\
CASE
THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
PRESENTED BY
PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND
MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID
I
A
S U B Y E Y
OF THE
WISDOM OF GOD
IN THE
CREATION :
OR,
A COMPENDIUM
Jtatural
IN FIVE VOLUMES.
BY JOHN WESLEY, A. M.
A NEW EDITION, REVISED AND CORRECTED.
VOL. IV.
These nre thy glorious Works, Parent of Good,
Almighty! Thine this universal Frarae,
Thus wondrous fa^r J Thyself how wondrous then !
MILTOiV.
LONDON :
Printed by J. D. Dewiclc, 46, Barbican,
MAXWELL AND \VILSOV, 17, SKINNE51-STREET, SNOW-HILL;
AN» WILLIAMS AM> SMIi H, STATIONERs'-COl/RT.
1809.
15477
CONTENTS
OF THE
FOURTH VOLUME.
PART the FIFTH.
[CONTINUED.]
CHAP. III.
OJ-tht Properties that are common to all Bodies.
PAGI
1. Of extension - - 3
2. Of a vacuum - - - » • 4
S. Of solidity - - , - ib.
4. Of divisibility - ib.
5. Of motion and rest - 5
6. Of the laws of motion - -6
7. Of the Aristotelic element* - ib.
VOL. iv. *
IV
PAGE
8. Of the principles of the ehy mists 6
9. Objections to them - 7
10, What is the primary element of all things ilk
CHAP. IV.
Of those Things wherein Natural Bodies differ.
1. Of the particular properties of bodies - 9
2. Of light * ib.
Particles of light attracted by those of other
bodies - 10
Rays of light differ in various respects - n
The effects of light and sound - 14
Remarkable account of the effects of music on
animals - - 15
The density of light - 16
Of elementary light J . 17
' The inconceivable extension of light - 19
Of natural and artificial phosphor! : their surprising
properties - - -20
3. Of colours - 22
Of secondary colours : with curious experiments
thereon - - 23
4. Of sounds - 25
5. Of smells - 26
Mr. Boyle's account of smells ib.
Fatal instance of the effluvia of flowers 27
Effects of the effluvia of springs in England and
abroad - - ib.
PAGE
6. Of tastes - 23
7. Of moisture a«d dryness, beat and cold 29
8. Of gravity - - - ib.
Mr. Hutchinson's account of gravitation - 30
Mr. Hervey's strong and beautiful observations on
this head - 32
Dr. Rogers's observation thereon
i thoughts on comets - 37
$. Of the other properties of bodies - 38
10. Of occult qualities - - ib-
11. Reflections • - 39
On the heavenly bodies - • ib;
On the ear til - - • 41
On the natural instinct of animals • 43
On seas and rivers • ib.
On man in particular - - 44
On a general review of the whole • 45
Abridgment o/THE CONTEMPLATION O/NATURE,
By MR. BONNET, of Geneva.
Introduction • • 49
CHAP. I.
Of the FIRST CAUSE.
1. The First Cause - 50
2. The creation - ib.
3. The universe considered with respect to its greater
parts - . 51.
-With respect to the planetary system - ib.
PAGE
4. With respect to comets - 52
5. Of the suspension of those immense bodies in
the air - - 53
6. Of the sea, islands, &c. 54
7. Of the moon, venus, mercury, satnrn, and the sun ib.
8. Universal connection, or harmony of the universe 55
9. The elements act reciprocally on each other - 56
CHAP. II.
Of the relative Perfection of Beings.
1. General distribution of terrestrial beings • 58
2. Of corporeal perfection • 59
3. The terrestrial life, and the species of it - ib,
4. The immensity of the chain ot beings - 60
5. Mean spaces : and their consequence - ib.
CHAP. III.
General Flew of the gradual Progression of Beings,
1. The elements - 63
2. Three kinds of composition in bodies 64
3. Of fluids in general, and cei tain fluids in particular ib.
4. Of some rude, or unorganized solids • 65
5. Passage of rude, or unorganized solids, into or-
ganized - €6
.til
PACK
6. Of some species of plants, whose form differs
greatly from that of those most known to us 68
7. Of plants in general - - ib.
8. A view of the exterior parts of plants - 69
9. A view of the inside of pjants 71
10. Transition from vegetables to animals : the sen-
sitive plant and the polypus - 73
11. Reflections on animal machines • 75
12. Reflections on the polypus . ib.
13. Of worms that may be multiplied by slips 76
14. Of insects in general - 77
15. Tfce external parts of insects - 78
16. The inside of insects - * 80
17. Passage from insects to shell-fish : pipe-worms ib.
13. Of shell-fish - 81
19. Passage from shell-fish to reptiles, and of reptiles
to fishes - 83
20. Of fishes - - ib.
21. Passage from fishes to birds : the flying-fish ; water-
birds ; amphibious birds 84
22. Passage from birds to quadrupeds : the bat ; flying-
squirrel ; the ostrich, &c. - 85
CHAP. IV.
Continuation of the gradual Progression of Beings.
1. Of animals, considered as mixed beings. Superi-
ority which the faculty of reeling gives the ani-
ma) over the plant . .87
via
PAtfB
2. Difficulty concerning the construction of the ani-
mal scale. Answer to this difficulty 87
3. Of the extent of instinct in animals : method of
distinguishing it 89
Inquiry concerning souls . ib,
4. Man endued with reason, cultivating the arts and
sciences - - ib.
5. Man in society - "91
6. Man in commerce with God by religion - ib.
7. Gradations of mankind - 92
The celestial hierarchies - v 95
Reflections - - 94
CHAP. V.
Of the various Relations of Terrestrial Beings.
1. The union of souls to organized bodies : the per.
ceptions and sensations 1)7
*>. The passions : the temper . * 98
3. The memory and imagination 99
4. The sight - 101
5. Ofvcolours: their consequences 102
6. Of fire - J05
7. Of air - 107
8. The appropriation of animals to divers climates,
places and matters • 108
9. The union of terrestial beings by their mutual
services - - - ib.
10. The transformation many tilings undergo, paticular-
ly by the action of 01 ganical macmnes 109
IX
CHAP. VI.
Of Vegetable Economy.
PAGE
1. Of organical economy in general - - 111
2. Nutrition of plants by the roots and leaves ib.
3. Direction of the leaves, their returning, the folding
of the stalk 113
4. A sketch of tiie theory of the motions of the sap 114
5. Germination and growth 116
6. Multiplication by seed. Distinction of sexes 117
7. Multiplication by shoots - - 118
8. Multiplication by slips and grafting - 119
9. Regeneration of vegetables - 120
CHAP. VII.
Of Animal CEconomy.
1. The n«rves : the spirits - 122
2. The muscles - 123
3. The organs of nutrition - - ib.
4. The organs of circulation • • 124
5. The organs of respiration - 125
6. Secretions - ib.
7. Growth - -» — 126
8. The germs — — — 127
9. The primitive state of organized beings - 13CX
30. Generation: the chick - 131
11. 12,13. Continuation of the same subject 133— J35
14. The generation of mules - - ise
FA6E
15. The formation of monsters - 157
16. Accidents may give birth to monsters - 138
17. Application to vegetables - 139
18. The mystery of the generation of plants cleared up 140
CHAP, VIII,
Of Animal Economy, considered in Insects.
1, Introduction - - 14 1
2, The mechanism of respiration - ib«
o. The circulation - - 142
4. The organs of generation, and their dependencies 143
5. Distinction of insects into viviparous and oviparous J44
6. Varieties of generation . J45
7. The vine-fretter J46
8. Zoophytes, or plant-animals without feet. Fresh-
water worms - - — 148
9. Cluster polypuses - » - 151
3 0. Funnel polypuses - - 153
1 1 . Net polypuses ~ *•* - 154
12. The polypus with arms - - ib.
13. Philosophical considerations on the subject of
polypuses ... 155—166
CHAP. IX.
Continuation of Animal Economy considered in
Insects.
I. Thoughts on the regeneration of earth-worms 167
t, The regeneration of faesh water worms .tfcS
XI
PAG1
3 Immense distinctions in the gifts of nature - 169
4. The metarmorphoses of insects - - ib.
5. The metamorphoses into an oblong ball 1 7*
6. Of the spider fly - 171
7. Sketch of a division of insects - - 172
8. The moultings or diseases of insects - - 17*
9. Sketch of a theory of metamorphoses - - 17*
10. 11,12. Reflections on metamorphoses, 174—178
CHAP. x.
Parallel letiveen Plants and Animals:
1 Introduction * » 17f
2. The seed ib.
3. The. e.iig - - 180
4. The Bud, the fetus ib.
5. The nutrition of the plant, and of the animal - 181
6. The growth of the plant - - 182
7. The growth of the aninfal - 184
8. The fecundation of the plant - - 180
9. The fecundation of the animal - - ib.
10. The multiplication of the plant, and of the animal 188
11. Irregularities in the generation of the plant, and in
the generation of animals - 189
12. Diseases incident to plants and animals ib,
13. Old age and death of the plant and of the animal 190
14. Other sources of analogy between the plant and animal 191
15. Their place and number - - 192
16. Fecundity - - - 194
17. Apposition in variety of plants and animals 195
1 8. The form $nd the structure - - 197
Xil
PAGE
19. The circulation 202
20. The distribution of aliment - 203
21. Reflections - - 205
22. Sap circulates in plants, as blood in animals 207
23. The necessity of circulation • 208
24. The loco-motive faculty * ib.
25. The distinction between plants and animals 209
26. The feeling - - 210
27. The nutrition ~ ~ - - 211
23. Irritability - « 21$
CHAP XL
Of the Industry of dnimals.
1. Treating in general of the instinct of animals 215
2. Wisdom displayed in the preservation of the species 217
3. Of animals that scarce take any care of their «£gs 218
4. Of the peculiar attachment of other animals to them 219
5. Of divers species of solitary flies - - 220
6. The different degrees of art and sagacity displayed
in their work - -. - 221
7. That brutes act in concert with each other ib,
8. Reflections - - 222
9. Birds of passage * - 223
10. Societies of animals properly and improperly so
called - 224
11. Common caterpillars - 825
12. Processionary caterpillars - ib.
13. Remarkable procedure of caterpillars that live in
society - - — 226
14. Ants - . •* 227
XI 11
15. Thoughts on the policy of bees - -29.8
16. Of Beavers - 229
17. Reflections on beavers - - 230
CHAP. XII.
Continuation of the Industry of Animal*.
1. A summary account of the industrious proceedings
of divers insects relative to their metamor-
phoses - — - 233
2. Caterpillars that fasten themselves with a girdle 233
3. Caterpillars that form cones - - ib.
4. Of spinning caterpillars - 234
5. Insects that live in fruits - - 235
6. Insects that fold and roll up the leaves j ib«
7. Insects that are miners of leaves - 237
8» Wonderful properties of those miners 238
g. False moths - - - 239
10. Of moths in general. Domestic moths - — 241
11. Field Moths - 342
12. Aquatic moths * - - 143
13. Reflections on the various proceedings of insects ib.
14. Procedings of shell fish. The tellina - 24
1 5 . The cutler : its peculiar methods - - ib.
16. The dails or pholas - 248
17. Divers ssa insects or animals. Nettles - ib.
18. These nettles feed on shellfish - - 251
19. Resemblance of nettles to polypuses ib.
20. Stars - - - - 253
2 1 . Sea hedgehogs - - - 25
22. Bernard the acrnut - - 256
XIV
PAGE
23. Shell fish that spin.' Muscles and pinnae marina 257
34. Shell fish 'and other animals that fasten themselves
by a sort of glue or stony juice - - 260
The proceedings of fishes - - 262
25. Of the proceedings of birds - - -263
26. Of the proceedings of quadrupeds. The rabbit 265
27. The monkey 266
28. The caterpillar that constructs his cone like a grain
of corn 267
29. Analogous proceedings of other insects - 268
50. Reflections on the industry of animals - 270
51. The tapestry bee ib.
The subtleties of the hare and stag - ^ 273
39. The skilfulness and subtlety of the fox - 274
Conclusion - - - - 27*
COMPENDIUM
OF
NATURAL PHILOSOPHY.
PART THE FIFTH.
CHAP. III.
Of the Properties that are common to all Bodies,
and of the Elements of Natural Bodies.
1. Of Extension.
2. Of a Vacuum.
3. Of Solidity.
4. Of Divisibility.
5. Of Motion and Rest.
6. Of the Laws of Motion.
7. Of the Aristotelic Elements.
8. Of the Principles of the Chy-
mists.
9. Objections to them.
19. What is the primary Element
of all Things.
1. JL JLAVING spoken of the particular species of
bodies, it remains only to speak of bodies in general :
and it may be observed of them all, that they are ex-
tended, solid, divisible, figured, and capable of motion.
We cannot conceive any body that is not extended or
composed of several parts : and yet \ve cannot affirm
that the essence of body consists in this alone,
VOL, iv. B
2. For there may be extension without body, which
is usually tef mecl space or a vacuum : these are widely
different from each other. Body is divisible and sepa-
rable into parts, and consequently capable of motion ;
none of which can be said of mere space: and that
there is empty space is clear from hence : — that if all
were full, there could be no motion in the world ; for in
order to this, it is requisite that each particle leave its
place empty for another to fill. It is said, indeed, this
need not be, because all motion is circular, so that in
every motion, of whatever kind, e«.ch part of the body
moved succeeds another. But this is absolutely con-
trary to matter of fact: we see with our eyes that all
motion is not circular ; and if not, then (here must be
empty space, or there could -be no motion at all.
3. Another property of body is solidify, whereby it
resists another body, moving it out of us place. Not
much different from this is impenetrability, \\ hereby a
body excludes another from the place where it is. *So-.
Jidity is not the same with hardness, the former belong-
ing to all, the latter to some bodies only. Hardness
consists in the firm cohesion of the parts, so as not easily
to be separated. As the solidity of bodies flows from
the intrinsic nature of matter, it is vain to assign as the
cause of it, either the figure or rest of the parts, or the
pressure of the air, or of some subtle matter. By these
solutions we do not at all explain the thing, but only
entangle ourselves in fresh difficulties.
4. Divisibility likewise belongs to all bodies; for
since no i ody can be conceived that is not extended,
and extension supposes parts, it follows, that every body,
however small, is divisible: perhaps not by the <ort of
man, but in its own nature. Nor is it ?ny objection*
that our uudeiMandi;' g cannot comprehend infinite divi-
sibility— it cannot ; nor can it comprehend infinite num-
ber, or, indeed infinite* of any kind.
It is true there is no such thing, strictly speaking, as
parts infinitely small ; yet the s-mallness of the particles
of several bodies, is such as vastly surpasses our
conception. And there are innumerable instances
in nature of such parts actually separated from each
other.
Mr. Boyle gives us several instances of this : he
speaks of a silken thread three hundred yards long,
that weighed but two grains and a iralf. Fifty square
inches of leaf-gold weighed but one grain. Now if
the length of an inch be divided into two hundred
parts, the eye may distinguish them all ; therefore,
there are, in one square inch, forty thousand visible
parts ; and, in one grain of leaf-gold, two millions of
such parts : which visible parts no one will deny to be
farther divisible. In odoriferous bodies, we may dis-
cern a still greater subtlety of parts, yea, of parts
actually separated from each other. Several bodies
scarce lose any thing of their weight in a long time,
and yet continually fill a large space with odoriferous
particles. Several animals are but just visible with
the finest microscope : and yet these have all the
parts necessary for life, as blood and other juices.
How wonderful must the subtlety of the parts be
whereof those fluids are composed : and hence the
following strange theorem is deduced and demonstrated
by Dr. Keil. — " Any -particle of matter, how small
soever, and any infinite space, how large soever, being
given, it is possible for that particle to be diffused
through all that space, and to fill it in such a manner
that there shall be no pore in it whose diameter shall
exceed any given line."
5. The last general property of matter is motion
avid rest ; for it is plain all matter is either at rest or
in motion. God is the first and universal cause of motion,
as well as of all these tilings : the immediate cause of
it is either matter or spirit. It is beyond doubt, that a
body moved communicates its motion to another,
though in its own nature it be purely passive. Nor
B 2
6
can we reasonably deny that a spirit is able to move
matter, although the manner of its doing this we cannot
comprehend.
6. All the laws of motion may be reduced ,to
three: 1. Every .moving body is moved by another.
5. Every moving body communicates its motion to
any body it meets. 3. Every moving body continues
in motion till it communicates that motion to another.
While these laws remain in force, and concur iu pro-
ducing various effects, those effects are termed na-
tural. When awy of these laws are suspended, this is
properly a miracle.
7. As the elements or first stamina of bodies are
too small to be discerned by any of our senses, we
can only form conjectures concerning them. The
most probable conjectures are these : Empedocles,
and Aristotle, from him, supposed there are four
elements, fire, air, water and earth : and, indeed,
this division seems to be grounded on the nature of
things; for there is no doubt but at the creation of
this globe the confused mass was separated into four
parts, the heaviest of which constituted the earth, the
particles next in weight the water, the third, lighter
still, air, and the lightest of all, fire, otherwise termed
ether. And it is manifest, all bodies known to us are
reducible to one or more of these. Every thing cor-
poreal is either earth, air, water or fire, or compounded
of them. So that after all the disquisitions of two or
three thousand years, this easy, plain, natural account of
the elements, is not likely to be amended : it being a
certain fact that of these do all bodies consist.
8. The chymists have taken another way, endea-
vouring to trace the principle of bodies, not by the
ordinary use of their senses, nor by reasoning, but from
experiments made by fire: and by this means they
make five elements ; for whatever is distilled first emits
a sapid and spiritous vapour, which is by cold con-
deuced into a liquor : and this they term mercury : then
an insipid liquor, which they call phlegm : afterward aa
acid liquor, which is also termed mercury. A thicker
and oily liquor comes next, which, because easily in-
flammable, is stiled sulphur. The salt, which is after-
wards found, is their fourth element, ttie insipid earth,
which is left, the fifth.
9. But not to insist, that all bodies are not rcsolvible
into these principles, it is utterly uncertain whether
fire does not alter the natural qualities of bodies, and
introduce other qualities into them, which they had not -
before : besides, some of these are not simple elements,
they are compounded of others, oils, and salts in par-
ticular : therefore, neither are all those oils and salts of
one sort, but as various as the bodies from which they
are extracted. In truth, these are at most the constitu-
ent parts of two of the Aristotelic elements, namely,
water and earth ; but the two others, air and fire, are
quite omitted in their account.
10. Perhaps one might rather term matter itself, with
its general properties, the first and most simple ele-
ment, out of which all things are compounded : but the
particles of this are not fit to compose the imme-
diate stamina of larger bodies, till they combine together
into oils, salts, and juices of various kinds. And
hence arise those principles of the chymists, of which
most bodies are compounded, although still they are
only secondary elements, as being themselves com-
pounded. Indeed, it seems probable, God, in the be-
ginning, formed matter in solid, impenetrable, moveable
particles, of such sizes and figures as most conduced
to the end for which he formed them ; and that these
primitive bodies are incomparably harder than any
porous bodies compounded of them, even so hard as
never to wear out, no natural power being able to
divide them: and thus remaining entire, they com*
pose bodies of the same nature and texture in all
ages; whereas, should these wear a\vay, or break in
B 3
8
pieces, the nature of things depending on them would
be changed. Nor would 'water and earth, composed
of broken worn-out particles, be the same as they
•were at the beginning : but they are the same in
ail ages ; and the changes of things do not imply
any change in those original particles, but only vari-
ous associations and separations of them ; nor do com-
pound bodies ever break in the middle of solid parti-
cles, but where those particles are joined together,
and oul) touch in a few points*
CHAP. IV.
Of those Things wherein Natural Bodies differ*
1. Of the particular Properties 7. Of Moisture and Dryness?
of Bodies. Heat and Cold.
2. Of Light. 8. Or Gravity.
3. Of Colours, 0. Of the other Properties of
4. Of So.mds. Bodies.
5. Or'Smells. 30. Or' occult Qualities.
«. Of Tastes. 11. Reflections.
LAVING considered wherein natural bodies
agree, we come now to consider the particular properties
wherein they disagree, and whereby they are distinguish-
ed from each other : those of them which are perceived
by our outward senses, are divided accordingly into
various classes, as they aiFect the sense of sight, of hear-
ing, of tasting, of smelling, or of feeling.
2. Light seems to be one of the most subtle bodies in
the universe : the grand reservoir thereof is the sun ;
but it is likewise emitted by many other bodies, and by
almost ali when they are on fire. \Vhen it falls on any
body which it cannot pass through, and so is beat back,
it is said to be reflected : but when it passes from one
transparent body into another, which is either rarer or
denser, it moves obliquely, its rays being bent, and is
said to be refracted', when it passes through u body in
strait lines, it is said to be transmitted. Those which
emit the light are termed lucid bodies, — those which re-
flect it, opake.
The particles of light, minute as they are, are at-
tracted by those of other bodies : hence, in their pas-
B 4
10
sage near the edges of bodies, whether opake or transpa-
rent, they are diverted from the right lines, and reflected
towards those bodies. This action of bodies on light
exerts itself, at some distance, but increases as the dis-
tai.re is diminished, as appears in the passage of a ray
between the edges of two thin plates, at different aper-
tures, in which it is peculiar, that the attraction of one
edge is increased as the other is brought nearer it. The
rays of light passing out of glass into a vacuum, are not
only inflected toward the glass ; but if they fall too ob-
liquely, they will revert back to the glass, and be to-
tally reflected : this reflection cannot be owing to any
resistance of the vacuum, but merely as the attracting
power of the glass. This appears farther from hence :
if you wet the posterior surface of the glass, the rays,
•which would otherwise have been reflected, will pass
into and through that liquor: which shews that the rays
are not reflected, till they come to that posterior sur-
face of the glass, nor even till they begin to go out of it ;
for if at their going out they fall into any liquor, they
sre not reflected, but persist in their course, the attrac-
tion of the liquor counterbalancing that of the glass.
From tiiis mutual attraction between the particles of
light and other bodies, arises the reflection and refraction
of light. The determination of any moving body is
changed, by the interposal of another body. Thus
light, meeting any solid body, is turned out of its way
and reflected : but with this peculiar circumstance—-
it is not reflected from the body itself, but by something
diffused over the surface of that body hefore^it touches
it : it is the same thing in refraction. The rays refracted
come very near the refracting body, yet do not touch it.
Those that actually touch solid bodies, adhere to them,
aiid are as it were extinguished and lost.
This entirely agrees with the curious observation of
an ingenious writer. " It is common to admire the
lustre of the drops of rain, that lie on the leaves of
coleworts and some other vegetables. Upon inspecting
them narrowly I find the lustre rises xfrom a copious
II
reflection of the light from the flattened parts of its sur-
face, contiguous to the plant. When the drop rolls
•along a part which has been wetted, it immediately loses
all its lustre. The green plant being then seen clearly
through it, whereas in the other case it is hardly to be
discerned.
" From these two observations laid together, we may
conclude, the drop, when it has the lustre, does not
really touch the plant, but hangs in the air at some dis-
tance from it by the force of a repulsive power : for
there could not be so copious a reflection of light from
its under surface, unless there were a real interval be-
tween it and the surface of the plant.
" Now if that surface were perfectly smooth, the under
surface of the drop would be so likewise, and would
therefore reflect the image of the illuminating body like
a piece of polished silver ; but as it is rough, the under
surface of the drop becomes rough likewise, and so re-
flecting the light copiously in different directions, as-
sumes the colour of unpolished silver*"
Again : Rays passing from a more rare into a more
dense medium, are turned out of their right line, because
more strongly attracted by the denser medium.
Rays of light differ in respect of refraction, reflection,
and colour. Those that agree in the first of these
agree in all, and may therefore be termed homogeneal r
colours exhibited by them \ve may call homogeneal
colours. This being premised, we may observe, 1. That
the sun's light consists of rays variously refrangible.
2. The rays variously refrangible, when separated from
each other, exhibit different colours. 3. That there are
as many simple, homogeneal colours, as there are de-
grees of refrangibility. 4. A composition of all the
simple colours is requisite to constitute whiteness.
5. The rays of light do not act upon one another in
passing through the same medium. 6. Neither do they
thereby suffer any refraction. 7. The sun's rays con*
tain all homogenous colours, which may therefore be
called primitive.
B5
12
As some rays of light are less than others, so they
are more refrangible : these which are most refrangible,
constitute violet colour — that is, the smallest rays excite
the most languid colour. Those which are largest, and
so least refrangible, constitute red, the most vivid colour.
The other rays excite intermediate sensations, according
to their respective size and relrangibility.
Bodies reflect, instead of transmitting light, that is
are opake, riot transparent, not for want of pores; but
either because of the unequal density of their parts or
the magnitude of their pores. Either their pores are
empty, or they are filled with matter of a different kind,
whereby the rays are variously refracted and reflected
till they are quite absorbed.
Hence paper and wood are opake, while glass is
transparent ; for in the confines of parts alike in den-
sity (such as those of glass and water) there arises no
refraction or reflection, by reason of the equal attrac-
tion every way ; so that the rays which enter the
first surface pass strait through the body. But in the
parts of wood and paper, which are unequal in density,
and contain much air HI their large pores, the refractions
and reflections are very great, so that the rays cannot
pass through them, but are bandied about till they are
extinguished.
Hence opake bodies become transparent when their
pores are filled with a substance of equal density, as
paper dipt in water or oil : and, on the contrary, trans-
parent bodies, by emptying their pores or separating
their part?, become opuke. Thus salts and wet paper
become opake by drying, glass by pulverizing. Yea,
water itself, it beat into froth, loses its transparency.
That lig' t is corporeal cannot now be doubted, having
been proved by a thousand experiments. By reflection
and refraction it may he turned more or less out of its
Hay, acroiding to the different densities of the reflecting
or retracting medium. Its rays in their progressive
motion may be intercepted by the interposal of any opake
object : and when this is removed, they proceed again
13
in the same strait course as before. They may likewise
he contracted into a less, .or diffused through a larger
space, while the quantity of light continues the same,
neither eacreased nor diminished. So in the focus of
a burning glass, all tSie rays which would otherwise pass
directly through the glass, are contracted into one bright
spot, while the circumambient space for the breadth of
the glass is deprived of its light and left shaded : and
the action of light, thus condensed, is proportional t*>
its quantity, and produces all the effects of the most in-
tense fire, yea, such as no culinary fire will produce.
Whence it is plain that fire and light are essentially
the same, and that fire is only condensed light*
The materiality of light is farther confirmed by its
motion; for vision is propagated through this medium
successively, as sound is through air. This has l>een de-
monstrated from the eclipses of Jupiter's satellites ; for
the satellite having been hid behind the planet, it re-
quires a certain time after it emerges before its light can
reach the eye ; namely, seven minutes and a half, which
is a motion six hundred thousand times swifter than that
of sound through the air.
The quantity of elementary light is c&teris parilm,
every where the same at the same distance from the
sun: but it faction is more er less intense, as the rays
are more direct or oblique. These are in a continual
vibrating motion, going and returning to and from the re-
sisting medium, in exceeding short and imperceptible in-
tervals, which makes the element seem to be at perfect
rest. All the rass are refracted and reflected alternately ;
so that the same incident ray, which is refracted at one
interval, is reflected at the next : this is visible in trans-
parent mediums, where the rays fall upon glass, water,
and the i;kt ; but in opake bodies, though the fact is the
same it is noi so sensibl . When the rays fail upc*n
glass, they are reflected one moment and transmitted
the next: an 1 this vibrating motion seems to be essen-
tial to light, when Us rays are put into motion*
B 6
In talking of light and sound we are apt to confound
the sensation with the motion of the medium that ex-
cites it. Thus in a deep calm we say, There is no air,—
because we feel none, though there is really the same
quantity of air in equal space as if it hlew a storm. And
so in deep darkness we say, There is no light in the
room, although there is supposed to be as much light
there as there was at noon day : only its rays are qui-
escent, and make no impression upon the visive organs.
Sound is said to move about fourteen miles in a
minute, which is performed thus :— the stroke given by
the sounding body to the contiguous air, is communi-
cated to the next, and so on till it reaches the ear.
The oscillations of the air are required to succeed
each other with a certain velocity; and in order to
render them audible, they must not be fewer than
thirty in a second of time. But the more frequent
these sonorous waves are in a given time, the sharper is
the sound heard, and the more strongly does it affect us,
till we come to the most acute of audible sounds, which
have 7520 tremors in a second.
Acute sounds are, in general, yielded from bodies
that are hard, brittle, and violently shook or struck ;
grave sounds are from the contrary. Cords JY other
bodies, that yield the same number of vibrations in a
given time, are said to be tin/son; as those which make
double the number of oscillations in that time, yield a
tone that is an octave, or eight notes higher ; and other
proportions betwixt the number of the vibrations, have
^iiilerent names assigned to them in a musical scale.
The shorter cords produce sharper tones, and the reverse
in a proportion directly as their lengths ; also lhose>
which are more stretched afford sharper sounds.
The sound, whether acute or grave, strong or weak,
is carried through the air nbout 1038 Paris feet in a
second, and that with an uniform velocity, without
Abating in the larger distances. But a contrary wind,
causing the vibrations to extend more slo\vly, retards
15
the progression of sound about one-twelfth of its velo-
city. Density and dryness of the air increase the
sound, as the rarefaction and moisture of the air lessen
it : hence, in summer time sound moves swifter ; and
in Guinea, it has been observed to pass at the rate of
10^8 Parisian feet in one second.
Plutarch says, Deers and horses are, of all irrational
creatures, the most affected \vitii music : Mr. Playford
says the same thing, and adds, " Myself, as I travelled
some years since near Royston, met about twenty stags
upon the road, following a bagpipe and violin, which,
when the music played, went forward, when it ceased
they all stood still; and in this manner they were
brought from Yorkshire to Hampton Court. Lions
likewise, and elephants are susceptible of the powers of
music ; so are many dogs, and most, if not. all, singing
birds." A late author gives a stranger account still.
Monsieur de , captain of the regiment of
Navarre, was confined in prison six months : he begged
leave of the governor that he might send for his lute.
After four days he was astonished to ^see, at the time
of his playing, the mice come out of their holes and the
spiders descend from their webs, which came and formed
a circle round him, to hear him with attention. This at
first so surprised him that he left off, on which they all
retired quietly into their lodgings. It was six days be-
fore he recovered from his astonishment ; he then began
to play again — they came again, and in still increasing
numbers, till after a time he found a hundred of them
about him.
I saw a very large and fierce lion which was then kept
at. the infirmary at Edinburgh, quite transported with
the sound of a bagpipe, and rolling upon its back with
the utmost satisfaction. I saw likewise, the old lion in
the Tower of London listen with the utmost attention to
a German flute : mean time a young tiger leaped up
4 "
16
and down incessantly till the music ceased. So it
may be literally true,
Sueius Amphion lenire tigres.
Light is propagated about two hundred thousand
miles in a second, after the very same munner as sound.
The sun impresses the contigious part of its visive at-
mosphere: (light seems to be the atmosphere of the sun,
as air is of all opake bodies). That part impress ebthe
next, and so on, till it reaches the eye.
All sensation is from contact of feeling ; and when
the object is not in immediate contact with the organ it
affects, touches, or impresses, by an interposed medium.
By this means the soul perceives or feels the object by
the proper organ : and thus, seeing is in effect, the feel-
ing of the eye -, hearing, the feeling of the ear.
From all our experiments it appears, that the particles
of light are extremely minute. Probably they are the
very smallest and last divisions of matter which, being
perfectly solid, cannot receive any other form : sa
minute are they as to pass freely even through the
pores of glass, which no other fluid can penetrate.
All other bodies are immersed in this universal fluid,
the conation medium of all their actions on each other.
But amidst all the changes of compound bodies, all the
forms they successively put on, this simple element re-
mains for ever fixed and immutable.
As to fire, or condensed light, all bodies whatever fly
or recede from it, in proportion to its den-ity: and this
seems to be its fir^t and most essential property, that no
other body can exist with it, or bear its immediate
action. So far as it prevails, it dissolves the closest and
strongest cohesion of parts in all other bodies, and re-
duces them into so extremely minute particles, that they
evaporate in air. And herein is an essential difference .
2
17
between this and all other dissolvents in nature, that the
substance dissolved cannot unite with the dissolvent
without destroying its action.
When salt dissolves in water, iron in aqua-fortis, or
gold in aqua-regia, the substance dissolved is equally
diffused through the dissolvent, so as to incorporate
with it; but non$ of the things dissolved by fire can
mix or incorporate with it : they all fly off in vapour,
otherwise the fire is presently extinguished.
Elementary light then, the rays of which when con-
densed take the name of fire, is an element of a peculiar
kind, not subject to the mechanical laws of other bodies.
Now, if we suppose a material fluid, void of gravity,
pressure, or any other mechanical power, all gravitating
bodies will move through such a fluid, as freely as in
vacuo.
Elementary light is a material fluid, void of gravity,
pressure, or any other mechanical power. When con-
deesed, it is pure elementary fire, which excludes all
other matter out of t lie same space : -yet it lies in the
focus of a burning-glass, perfectly still and quiescent.
Though it is surrounded by the air, which is a gravitating
fluid, pressing equally every way, yet this im mechanical
element is not at all affected by it, so as to rise or fall in
it, or in the least to alter its 'stale either of rest or mo-
tion, which must necessarily happen were it endued
with gravity, or the other mechanical properties found
in other bodies.
And that the rays of light, in their progressive motion,
do not press, resist, attract, or at all disturb each other, is
evident from facts, though they come from every point
of space that can be within the optic angle of the eye.
Thus two men standing at a distance and looking at
each other, see one another at the fame instant and
that by means of rays, which act in contrary directions
without the least resistance. And any number of other
men, standing in any position, may see the same men in
18
the same instant, by rays which cross each other with-
out any interruption, in all possible angles. But in
sounds which move through a gravitating resisting me-
dium, the case is quite different. For a multitude of
sounds, from different sonorous bodies, cannot be dis-
tinctly heard : particularly, when they come to the ear,
in many different directions. For the undulations of the
resitting medium, mixing with, and disturbing each
other, confuse the sensation, throwing ail together, in-
discriminately to the ear. Thus when a multitude of
people are all talking together, the ear receives only a
confused hum or murmur; whereas the eye can perceive
all or any one cf them distinctly and without confu-
sion.
Indeed nothing is more sure, than that gravity, pres-
sure, resistance, and all those affections of bodies which
are termed their mechanical powers, are not intrinsic or
essential to them. For since matter is purely passive,
and can only act as it is acted upon, it follows, that the
active force or energy, which \ve observe through the
whole material system, must be the effect of some in-
trinsic, non-essential cause. And such a cause is light.
But then the actions of this can never be mechanically
accounted for. How this immechauical fluid acts upon*
other bodies, and determines their mechanical powers,
we can no more explain than how the soul acts upon the
.body, or the mind upon matter. But we are sure this is
not done by weight, pressure, resistance, or any me-
chanical property whatever.
" But what are the general latvs of nature ?' They
are plainly th« rules or principles, by which the Go-
vernor and Director of all things, lias determined to act.
Accordingly what we call mechanism, is indeed the free
agency and continued energy of the author and director
of nature. All the necessary motion of bodies there-
fore, and all the laws and forces whereby it is commu-
nicated and preserved, are the continued, regular will*
choice and agency of the first cause, and incessant mover
and preserver of the universe.
By the help of this admirable, this first made, he-
cause most necessary creature, light, all the 'animal
world is enabled to go here and there, as their occasions
call. We can with pleasure behold the glorious works
of God : we can view the glories of the Heavens, the
beauties of the flowery fields, the gay attire and exqui-
site garniture of many creatures. We can with admira-
tion see the great Creator's wonderful art in the parts
of animals and vegetables. In a word, we can behold
the harmony of this lower world, and of the globes
above, and survey his exquisite workmanship in every
creature.
It is a great instance of his providence, that so neces-
sary as light is, it is not long in passing from place to
place. How inconvenient would it be, were the mo-
tion of it no swifter, than that of the swiftest bodies on
earth, such as of a bullet out of a great gun, or even
of sound itself? Did it move at the rate of the first, it
would be above thirty-two years in coming from the sun
to us, (according to the common computation of the
sun's distance,) above seventeen years at tbe rate of the
second motion. The inconvenience of this would be,
its energy would be greatly abated ; its rays would be
less penetrant, and darkness would be dissipated, with
greater difficulty, especially by the fainter light of our
sublunary luminous bodies. But passing with that pro-
digious swiftness, (from the sun to us in seven or eight
minutes) we receive with security and speed the kindly
effects of that noble and useful creature.
Another thing worthy of consideration is, the incon-
ceivable extension of light. It is as unlimited as the
universe itself, as is manifest from our seeing some of
the most distant objects, the heavenly bodies, partly
with the naked eye, partly with the help of instruments.
And had we instruments of power equal to the extent of
light, the luminous bodies in the utmost parts of the uni-
vti>e, would doubtless be visible too. Hereby we have
a ken of those many glorious works of the infinite Creu-
20
tor, which we can improve to some of the noblest
sciences, and most excellent uses of our own globe.
One species of lucid bodies are termed
of which some are natural, others artificial. Natural
phosphori emit light without a;iy art or preparation.
Such are glow-worms, and several sorts of shining in-
sects. Such are rotten wood : the eyes, blood, scales*
flesh, and leathers of some animals. Diamonds likewise
when rubbed emit light, to one who has stayed some time
in the dark. But before the diamond is brought into
the dark room, it should lie eight or ten seconds in the
sun-shine. It will then shine in the dark twelve or thir-
teen minutes : but its light gradually weakens all the time.
But it is remarkable, that some diamonds have this
property of imbibing the sun's rays, and shining in the
dark, mid others not, though there is no other discerni-
ble difference between them. Nor is there any rule
of judging, which diamonds have this property, and
which have not. Their brightness, their purity, their
size, their shape, contribute nothing to it.
Sulphur and sugar when pounded in the dark, will
likewise emit liglit ; as will the backs of horses or cats,
when rubbed with the hand, and sea-water, yea and some
mineral waters, briskly agitated. But no natural phos-
phorus shines always, or gives any heat.
Artificial phosphorus is made chiefly from human
urine. But it may be made from blood, or hair; or in-
deed from any part of an animal, which yields an oily
distillation. It is at first of the consistence of hard
wax; but dissolves in all kinds of distilled oil. With
solid phosphorus one may write on paper as with a pencil,
and the letters will shine in the dark. A little piece of' it
rubbed between two papers, takes fire presently. It
burns vehemently, and penetrates deeper into the flesh
than common fire. It neve^r spoils, if kept in a phial
full of water. Liquid phosphorus does not keep long*
21
If the face or hands be smeared with this, they will
shine in the dark, yet without any hurt to the skin.
If phosphorus be put into a long phial, of which three
fourths are tilled with water, it will frequently send up
confiscations, which will pierce through the water, and
expand themselves with great brightness in the upper part
of the phial.
If we compare this with lightning, we may observe,
that as in this the fire passes alternately through the wa-
ter, so in that the flashes, which come at intervals, pass
uninterupted through the most dense clouds and thickest
rain. But this is usually in warm weather, not in winter.
And it is the same with phosphorus. It very frequently
flashes in warm weather, but very rarely in winter.
Again, The flame of lightning is generally inoffen-
sive, and does not set fire to any thing. In like man-
ner the flashes of phosphorus are harmless, and do not set
fire to the most combustible matter. But when con-
densed phosphorus is set on fire, it burns terribly. And
in the same manner lightning, when condensed, burns
trees, houses, or whatever it comes near. Phosphorus
while burning, acts as a corrosive, and* when it goes out,
forms a menstruum, which dissolves gold, iron, and
other metals. Lightning melts the same substances.
Another kind of artificial phosphorus, is a preparation
of the bononian stone. This stone is of no certain
figure, but is sometimes round, sometimes oblong, or
lenticular. They are usually as big as an orange, but
very light, considering their bulk. They are of various
colours, some ash-coloured, some blue, and some almost
white. When this stone is prepared, it receives light,
but in very different degrees, either from the sun, the
moon, common day-light, or a flame. After it has been
exposed a few minutes to any of these, it shines in the
dark like a burning coal, with such a light as is suffi-
cient to read by, if the letters be held near the stone.
It does not retain its light long, but requires often re-
newing. When well prepared, it will retain this virtue
for five or six years. It appears to most advantage, if
brought into a dark room, after being held in the sun.
3. When the rays of light fall on opake bodies, they
are variously reflected to our eyes, according as the sur-
face of those bodies are variously disposed. And hence
arises our sensation of colours. These, as they exist in
the coloured bodies, are only the dispositions of their
surface, to reflect such particular sorls of rays. White
bodies reflect all rays every way, without any separation
of them. On the contrary black bodies imbibe all the
rays, and reflect none or very few, whereas Hue, yel-
low, and red bodies, reflect only one particular sort of
rays. The smallest sort of rays are supposed to be blue;
the next yellow, the largest red.
To be a little more particular. There are eight true
primary colours, which are red, yellow, green, blue,
violet, purple, orange, and indigo. All the rest are com-
pounded of these, and are termed secondary colours.
But the more compound any colour, the less vivid it is.
And by too much composition they may be diluted and
weakened till they are destroyed. The most extraordi-
nary composition of all is that of whiteness. For to this
five at least of the primary colours are required, as also,
that they be mixed in a certain degree. And hence white
is the ordinary colour of light : light being an assemblage
of all colours.
The transmutation of colours by mixing them toge-
ther, is not real, but merely apparent. Thus mix blue
and yellow powders, and they appear green. But view
them with a microscope, and the blue and yellow parti-
cles are seen as distinct from each other as before.
To produce Hack, the particles must be less than
those which exhibit any other colour. Where they are
greater, there is too much light reflected to constitute
this colour. But if there be a little less than forms the
indigo, the body appears intensely black.
And hence it appears, w hy fire and putrefaction turn
many substances black. Tney divide them into exceed-
ing small particles> which then absorb, instead of reflect-
23
ing the light. Hence also it appears, why glass ground
very elaborately with sand on a eopper-plate, makes the
sand together with what is worn off from the glass and
copper, become very black : likewise, why black < sub-
stances exposed to the sun, are hot sooner than any
other. This may partly proceed from the multitude of
refractions in a little room, partly from the easy commo-
tion of so small particles, arid from their imbibing his
rays. Hence also we learn, why blacks are usually in-
clined to a bluish colour. Black borders on indigo, and
therefore reflects indigo-rays, if any.
To try if black bodies receive heat more than others,
Mr. Boyle whited one half of a tile, and blacked the
other, and then exposed it to the summer sun. While
the white part still remained cool, the black part was
grown very hot. For farther satisfaction he exposed to
the sun a tile, part of which was blacked, part white,
and part of its natural fed : and after a while found the
black part hot, the red warm, and the white cool.
" I laid on the snow, (says Dr. Franklin,) little pieces of
broad cloath, of divers colours, black, deep blue, light
blue, green, purple, red, yellow, white, in a bright sun-
shiny morning. In a few hours the black (being warmed
most) was sunk lowest, the dark blue almost as low, the
light blue not quite so much, the other colours less as
they were lighter, and the white not at all. This was an
easy and certain way of shewing which was heated most."
All the secondary colours of natural bodies proceed
from their reflecting two or more sorts of rays together,
and absorbing the rest.
Glass, crystal, diamond, and other transparent bodies,
lose their transparency, and are white, when reduced to
powder: the change of texture causing them to reflect
the rays which before they transmit.
White loaf-sugar, melted over the fire, without wa-
ter, iirst turns brown, afterwards black. And a single
gram of this tinges a quart of fair water with a beauti-
24
fal yellow. Violets, roses, carnations, and most flowers
lose their colour, by being long in the open air. And by
the same means blue essential oil of chamomile-flower*
changes to a dirty green.
Many colours may be produced, destroyed, and re-
generated, upon simple mixture. Let dried rose-leaves
stay awhile in spirits of wine, and they lose their colour
without tinging the liquor. But add a little oil of vitriol,
and it turns red : put in a little urinous spirit, and the
red changes to green, which by adding a little more oil
of vitriol, turns to a red again.
Make a slight infusion of bruised galls in water, so as
not to discolour it. Make also a weak infusion of green
vitriol in water, which will be still transparent. Yet mix
them together, and an inky blackness will immediately
arose. But add a little oil of vitriol, the blackness will
vanish, and the liquor be transparent again. Yet the
blackness may be recalled by adding a little salt of
tartar.
If a little bruised camphire which is very white, be
put into transparent oil of vitriol, the camphire will dis-
solve, and tinge the liquor first brown, and at length a
fine black. But upon the addition of fair water, t)ie
blackness entirely vanishes, and the camphire regains its
native whiteness.
A transparent infusion of sugar of lead in water being
wrote with, when dried becomes invisible. But the bare
fumes of another transparent liquor, namely, infusion of
quick lime and orpiment in water, will quickly make the
invisible writing black and visible.
And not only secondary, but primary colours are pro-
ducible by simple mixture. If the sun's rays pass
through two pieces of differently coloured glass, sup-
pose a blue and a yellow piece laid on each other, and
these rays are received upon white paper, they produce a
beautiful green. A mixture of seven, or even five, ori-
ginal colours, will make a pure white. If different co-
loured flames be brought to mix, the experiment is
made to perfection.
flames from different bodies are of different colours.
25
The flame of camphire is white ; of sulphur, blue; of
white-wax, inclining to yellow. For making experi-
ments, oil may be impregnated with different metals, so
as to exhibit their particular flames.
4. Air is the ordinary vehicle of sound, which is the
fainter, the more remote the sounding body is. It is
also lessened, and sometimes quife interrupted either by
contrary winds or thick vapours floating in the air. It is
supposed, that the sounding body, excites a kind of un-
dulation or tremulous motion in the air, raising as it
were waves of air, one of which impels the other till
they reach the ear.
Sound moves but little quicker by having the wind
vMi it, as it moves at least thirty three times faster titan
the most violent wind we know. But it is heard much
farther thereby.
That air is the grand vehicle of sou»d, appears from
various experiments. A. bell in an unexhausted receiver,
may be heard at some distance; but scarce at the
smallest, when it is exhausted. But it is not the only
one, water too will convey sound. If you strike a bell
under water, the sound is heard plain, only not so loud,
and also a fourth deeper. And a sound made in air, is
heard under water, with just the same difference.
Sounds commonly move a mile in about nine se-
conds and a quarter. If a gun be discharged with its
mouth to us or from us, the report comes to us in the
very same time. It always moves the nearest way, and
equally swift from the beginning to 4lie end of its mo-
tion.
If the undulating air strikes against hard concave
bodies, it rebounds, and occasions what we call an echo.
As often as sound strikes perpendicularly on a wall, be-
hind which is any vault or arch, or even a parallel wall,
so often it will be reverberated in nearly the same line.
For a multiplied echo, there must be a number of walls
and cavities, either behind, or fronting each. other.
The echo in Woodstock-park returns <Tery distinctly, in
26
the day seventeen, in the night, twenty syllables. There
is an echo on the bank of the river Nassa, between Bin-
gen and Collentz in Germany, which repeats what is said
seventeen times. And what is still more peculiar, the
person who speaks is scarce heard at all, but the repeti-
tion clearly, and with surprising variety : the echo seem-
ing sometimes to approach nearer, and sometimes to be
farther off. One person hears only one voice, another se-
veral: one hears it on the right, another on the left.
Two miles from Milan there is a still more surprising
echo. It returns the sound of a pistol fifty-six times.
The first repetitions follow one another very quick ; but
they are more distinct in proportion as they decay.
There are two parallel walls, which beat the sound back
upon each other.
5. The fine effluvia from odorous bodies, when they
reach our nostrils, excite the sensation of smellijig.
Some bodies emit these most when they are moist: some
only when they are warmed or heated. From all such
bodies^ innumerable particles flow, which according to
their various size, figure, and motion, variously affect the
olfactory- nerve. But what particular motion, size, or
figure, is required in order to any particular smell, who
is able to explain?
These effluvia indeed are inconceivably small : so that
amber and divers other odorous bodies, emit them for
many years, without any discernable loss, either as to
bulk or weight.
Mr. Boyle shews, 1. That the nnmber of particles
thus emitted, is exceeding great. 2. That they are of a
very penetrating nature. 3. That they move with vast
swiftness and in all directions. 4. That there is often
a wonderful congruity between the bulk and shape of
these effluvia and the pores of the bodies they penetrate,
and lastly, that they may excite great motions, and
thereby make great changes in organized bodies.
That effluvia are emitted to a very great distance we
learn from hence, that wines grow turbid in the hogs-
head, precisely at the time that the grapes are ripe in
2?
?tlic country • whence they were imp6rted. That they are
very penetrating even without losing their virtue we have
a proof from the loadstone, whose effluvia pass througli
the most solid bodies without any change of their force.
That they occasion great changes in organized bodies
we have a remarkable proof in a case lately published
by Dr. Heister : " Making an afternoon's visit to tl*e
liev. Mr. Sentag, he received me in an apartment where
there were three or four flower-pots with white lillies,
I asked him if he did not find his head affected when he
continued long in the room where they were, and told
him physicians thought them dangerous, and I my.seH'
-could not bear them. I therefore begged the window
might be opened that the effluvia might be dispersed.
" He ordered the wmcknv to be opened, and re-
;plied, he found no inconvenience from them, being a
tall, strong, healthy man. But the smell being still toe
.powerful for me, I was obliged to take my leave of him
sooner than I intended,
" The night following lie was seized with an apo-
plexy: Dr., Bayer and myself were sent for; we fo\«nd
him with his eyes wide open, but without speech, sense,
or motion. I told Dr, Bayer what had passed the day
'before: we ordered bleeding, blisters, and strong fric-
tion of the soles of the fret, head, and hands, with the
other remedies usual in these cases, but without success;
for the next morning he began to rattle in the throat.,
and soon after died."
This may admonish those to whom these odours are
•not sensibly prejudicial not to stay long within the
sphere of their activity.
In some places -effluvia from the earth produce many
effects on the surface of it. The bubbling and boiling
fountains in England and other countries are chiefly oc-
casioned by the bursting up of their effluvia. Our
burning well in Lancashire has no peculiar property in.
<i!s water ; but an inflammable vapour rising through it
makes it boil and bubble on the surface. And this va-
pour, as soon as set at liberty from the water, will take
flame at a lighted candle.
voj., TV. " c
28
The famous boiling spring near Montpelicr is likewise
no other than common water, through which a vapour
of the same kind makes its way; indeed, ail the springs
thereabouts bubble more or less, the vapour making
its way through the whole surface of the earth. Water
taken out of that spring has no such property nor any
peculiar taste or virtue. What is a farther proof is, the
. cracks of the earth thereabout* all perspire strongly a
vapour of this kind ; so that if straws be laid on the sur-
face they will be blown up; and if a hole be any where
Hug in the ground, and water poured into it, it will
boil up in the same manner as the spring.
The like sort of springs are common in Switzerland,
and some other places: these are known to be owing to
effluvia from beneath, by tli£ water of them being cold.
But there are others which actually boil, and are hot
enough to boil an egg : such are the famous boiling
fountains of Solfatara, near Naples.
From these various springs we find that there is much
variety of this kind of exhalations : some being cold
a*xl dry, some of a bituminous nature, and not actually
cold, as our's in Lancashire ; some hot, as those in the
sweating vaults and caverns, and in the mountains of
Italy. Others are of a poisonous nature, containing
particles of arsenic, or other poisonous minerals.
6. Many bodies are tasteless ; but some even of
these may contract a very strong taste (as do several
metals) when they are resolved into a fine powder.
Some bodies by several other changes, acquire tastes,
which they had not before, or variously increase, lessen
or alter their taste. Hence it has been supposed that
all tastes proceed from salts, which are often so envelop-
ed, that they cannot exert their power. But if the con-
taining bodies are dissolved by fire or liquors, then they
variously afreet the nerves in' the tongue and palate :
and hence arise all the various sensations of taste. But
what particular size, shape, or motion of the particles is
required to produce any particular taste, ail our skill
cannot determine.
29
7. Of (lie properties which we perceke by feeling,
the chief are moist ness 9 dryjiess, heat, and cold. There
is no heat without fire, or at least some disposition of
the heated body to take fire. If the particles of it,
rapidly agitated, strike against another body, tear and
dissolve it ; if against the body of a maji, the sensation
of heat arises in the mind. Some suppose cold consists
in the rest of those particles which were so agitated be-
fore. Others think this would not suffice to pruduce
that accule pain which we sometimes feel from cold ;
and 'therefore suppose there are positive frigorific par-
ticles, which move on in strait lines, and. so not only de-
stroy the circular motion which is required for heat, but
likewise penetrate the body, and sharply affect the ex-
tremities of the nerves.
8. Gravity and levity have likewise been reckoned
among sensible qualities ; but properly, there is no such
a thing as levity, for all bodies tend to the centre of the
earth, though some are light in comparison of others,
The laws of gravity are, 1. All bodies on the earth tend
to a point which is (nearly at least) the centre of the
globe. 2. In all places equidistant from the centre/the
force of gravity is nearly equal. 3. Gravity equally
affects all bodies, without regard either to their bulk or
figure : so that were it not for the resistance of the me-
dium, the greatest and smallest bodies, the most dense-
arid the most rare, would descend equal spaces in equal
times. Thus gold and feathers descend alike in an ex-
hausted receiver. 4. This power increases as we de-
scend to the centre, and decreases as we ascend from
it, and that as the squares of the distances. Thus, at a
double distance, things have but a quarter of the force,
5. Those things swim in fluids which are specifically
(that is bulk for bulk) lighter than those fluids.
This gravitating power seems to be congenial to
matter: it penetrates even to the centre of the sun and
other heavenly bodies, without any diminution of its
virtue ; and it acts not according to the surface of
bodies, as mechanical causes do, but according to the
C 2
of matter they contain. That it is an original
law of nature immediately impressed by the Creator,
without dependance on, any second cause at all, may
appear from the following considerations : 1. Gravity
does not require tlie presence of the gravitating or at-
tracting Jxxly. 2. The distance being the same, the
velocity wherewith gravitating bodies move, depends
on the quantities of matter in the attracting body ; a?*d
the velocity is not changed, let the mass of the gravi-
tating body bs what it will. 3. If gravity depends on
any known lav/ of motion, it must be some impulse
from an extraneous body : whence^ as gravity is con-
tinual, a continual stroke must; also be required. Now,
if there be any such matter continually striking on
bodies, it must be subtle enough to penetrate al{
bodies. But how should matter, subtle enough to
penetrate the hardest ^bodies, and so rare as not sensibly
jto hinder ihe motion of any, be able to impel such vi»>'
bodies toward each other with such force? How does
..this force increase according as the mass of that body,
toward which any body moves increases? Whence is it
that all bodies at the same distance from the body gra-
vitated to, move with the same velocity ? And how can
2iratter, which only acts on the surface of the bodie?
themselves, or of their internal particles, communicate
csuch .motion as in all bodies shall exactly follow lire
proportion of the quantity of matter in them ?
But after a}l comes Mr...IIutchi»son, calls Sir.Issiu:
and all his followers senseless, imphilosophical block-
heads, and to solve all the difficulty in a moment, sup-
poses the sun, to be the centre of the whole universe,
tand to project light every vvay .through every point of
space, to the utmost circumference of it. When this
light arrives at the circumference, it is condensed into
.larger masses and returns in the form of spirit or air,
through every point of space to the -sun. There it is
again comminuted into lightby the immense lire, and so
issues out again to. the circumference. And this double
impulse of light moving outward, and spirit moving in-
, causes the motion, of all the heavenly bodies, botli
rdulid their own axis' and round the soli. Biit to wavf*
that gmss "absurdity of supposing every point of space
to be continually -tilled with light, and every point of it
to be filled with spirit at one and the' same tims, (which
is rlatly impossible, since both are material, and two
particles of nr<tfter cannot co-exist in the same space :);
how does this remove the difficulty at nil ] How does
it help us forward a hair's bread} h ? For \vhut impels
li<jlit outward, or -spirit inward '? It can \js no mecha-
nical power : it must then be the linger of God ; and
if so, what have \\r gained- 1 May vve not as well say
at once (as go thus round about); " Gravitation can be
no otherwise accounted for tiuui by allowing the direct,
immediate power of God, operating through the whole
universe!"
But beside the attraction of gravity there is another
species of attraction, between the minute particles
whereof bodies are composed. These attract each
other at or near the point of contact, with a force much
superior to that of -gravity.- It is by this attraction of
cohesion that the atoms, or insensible particles of bodies
are united- into .sensible masses. Hereby numberless
phenomena may be accounted for, which are otherwise
inexplicable : such as coa^uiatioa, crystallization, and
and the ascent of fluids in capillary tubes. Such like-
wise are fer mentation, animal secretion, and many
others. Thus nature will be found very simple and
conformable to herself, performing all the great motions
oi the heavenly bodies, by the attraction of gravity be-
tween those bodies, and almost all the motions of their
several parts, by this attraction diffused through every
particle. Sir Isaac thinks, that without these two prin-
ciples there would be no motion in the world : and
without the continual operation of them it could not
long continue, considering the vast 'and constant dimi»
jiittiou of motion by various other causes.
Mr. Hervey's observations on this head are strong
a»d beautiful*
C 3
32
'• The fundamental laws of GOT modern astronomy
are projection and attraction : one the all-combining
cement, the other the ever-operative spring of the mighty
iraine. In the beginning God impressed a proper degree
of motion on each of the whirling orbs. This, if not
controlled, would have carried thers on in strait lines,
till they were lost in ihe abyss of space ; but the prin-
ciple of gravitation being added thereto, determined
their course to a circular form. And how necessary
for the conservation of the universe, is both the one
and the other? Were the projectile power to cease, all
the luiUaoniously-moving spheres would fall into the
central lire. Were they gravitating, they would exor-
bitate into wild confusion, or by their rapid whirl be
dissipated into atoms. But the impulsive and attractive
energy, being nicely attempered to each other, the va-
rious globes persevere in their radieut course, without
any interruption or diminitiou.*
" How extensive, and how diversified is the force of
tXls single principle of attraction ? (Understanding by
the word, that of cohesion, as well as of gravitation !)
It penetrates the very essence of all bodies, and diffuses
itself to the utmost limits of the mundane system. By
this all those vast worlds of matter hang self-balanced
on their centres. And to this is owing an effect of a
very different nature, the pressure of the atmosphere,
which, though a yielding and expansive fluid, yet by
virtue of an attracting energy surrounds the whole
globe of earth, and encloses every creature thereon, as
it were with a tight bandage: an expedient absolutely
tecessarv to preserve the texture of our bodies, and
indeed of every animal. Urged by this, the rivers cir-
culate with a never-failing current, along the veins of
the earth. Impelled by the same mysterious force, the
nutritious juices are detached from the soil, and, as*
ceding the trunks of trees, find their way through
millions of the finest meanders, in order to convey ve-
getate life into the smallest branches. This confines
* AH this is spoken on the Newtonian Hypothesis.
33
the ocean within its hounds. Though the waves thereof
roar and swell, yet, checked by this curb, they are un-
able to pass even the slightest barrier of sand. To this
the mountains owe -that unshaken fimiiuss which laughs
at the shock of careering winds. By virtue of this invi-
sible mechanism, without any instrument of human de-
vice, thousands of tons of water are raised every mo-
ment into the regions of the firmament. By this they
continue suspended in the " air without any cistern to
contain them. By the same variously-acting power
they in due time dropdown again in gentle falls of dr.iv,
or are precipitated in copious showers of rain: they
slide down in fleecy flights of snow, or dart in clattering
showers of hail : this occasions the strong cohesion of
solid bodies, without which our large machines would
be utterly useless, and the nicer utensils of life elude our
expectations of service. In short, this is the laliast
which composes the equilibrium, and constitutes the
stability of things : this the great chain which forms
the connexion of universal nature, and the mighty.
engine, which in good measure accomplishes almost all
her operations. What complicated effects from a single
cause ! What profusion amidst frugality P
How extremely plausible is ail this ! And what pity
that it is only plausible ! but it is really no more : it is
not capable of any substantial proof ; I mean, with re-
gard to the motion of the heavenly bodies, and the
causes of that motion.
I do not know that any one has yet given a rational
answer to Dr. Rogers' observations on that head. " The
action of these two powers (gravitation and projection)
is inadequate to such a motion ; because, in order to
produce it, the gravitating force must exactly balance
the projectile : but where this done, one would destroy
the other: this will appear. plain if \ve consider the na-
ture of these two forces. Gravitation, by which the
earth attracts all bodies, is at all times uniformly ex-
erted in right lines, from the earth to the body attracted,
C 4
and acts equally, on all bodies according to their densi-
ties : it is perpetual, subject to no decay, needing no
reparation. But projection is a motion "given tcTt! .e.
body contrary to its nature: when given it would
always continue in a strait line, if nothing hindered if,
but cannot remove any obstruction without losing part
of its own force. Now the obstruction given by attrac-
tion must have the same effect as obstruction given by,
air or ether : it must continually lessen any projectile
force till that force is totally destroyed.
f< A mortar elevated forty-five degrees, ejects a
at iirst in or near a right line, while the projectile
force is. vastly superior to the attractive, afterwards in a,
curve : for the moment the two. forces are in equiiibrio3
in a segment of a circle : then in a curve less and less..
bent, till it falls in a right line, to the centre of gra-
vitation.
"This. is. the nature of all projectiles; nor ean any pro-,
jectile, thrown in any direction by any force of attrac-
tion, produce a circular motion : much less an elliptical
one, such as that of the earth. Besides, what physical,
reason can be assigned why the earth, being nearer the
sun in winter, the gravitating force does not increase;
and why the projectile does not increase in summer,
when it is farther from the sun, to the entire destruction
of one or the other. 7
" A third motion also is supposed to be primarily im-
pressed on the earth, namely round its own axis. But no-
thing can be more plain than that a body so strongly at-
tracted by the sun as to keep it from flying off in a tangent,
must have its circular motion presently stopt ; as the
side ntxtthe.sun must be attracted most, the attraction
of all the planets co-operating theiejto.
" To make this p-a'n, I hung a loadstone to a. small
string, and gave it as many turns as would continue its
revolving motion ten miuutes and a half, whew up iron,
Si)
bufr'on bringing a piece of iron near, it stop-
ed. The iron being removed, it recommenced its cir-
cular motion, which lasted for a 'minute more. Hence
it is evident, that did not some force continually act
upon the earth to keep up its motions, the attractive
power of the sun would soon stop, at least the diur-
nal one.
11 The friction likewise of the etKer must be considerable*
Else why might not the earth revolve in twenty-four mi-''
ntites as weti as twenty-four hours ? Indeed, this seems to
be one great use of the ether, to prevent the too rapid mo-
tions of the planets. And as the earth floats in the air, so
does ihe sun in the ether, his proper atmosphere, which
extends to the utmost limits of his system, and is the me-
dium funtcultor hami, by which he attracts all the planets
and comets, and prevents their flying out of the system. -
" Neither will gravitation at all account for the motion
f>f comets. That in 1680 descending from an immense
height perpendicularly toward the sun, rose from hint
again with equal velocity. Now as its accesrto, arrl re-
cess from the sun, were made in strait lines, while they
were making, the projectile force must cease. But to
stop any projectile, is to destroy its motion. Hew came
it then to be so strongly exerted in the Perihelion! Was
there a continued miracle, a fresh projection given? Of l
tijd it rebound 7 What, front, the yielding ether!
"Again. This comet, during half its circuit roimd the '•
sun, was distant from it brit one third of ihe moon's
distance from the earth. _ The attractive force therefore
was then vastly increased ; and the projectile being de-
stroyed, it must have: impinged on the sun long ago, had
tliere been no other force to prevent it. It is clear then
upon the \\hole, ihat the motions of the heavenly bodies,
catinot be accounted fora hy attraction and projection.
" How then can they be accounted for? Possibly thus/
The earth being an oblate spheroid, objected to the SUB
c 5 ^
36
in an obliquity of 66 degrees 30 minutes, (the same
which given t@ the sails of a windmill, occasions its most
forcihle conversion) the sun's rays striking against the
oblique hemisphere, as the wind against ihe sails of a
windmill, keep it off, and at the same time make it turn
oil its own axis. The ether being a resisting medium,
and the atmosphere (ike the oars of a hoat) striking,
therein, urges it into a progressive motion. Meantime
its own gravity inclines it to the sun's centre, and of
course keeps it in equilibrio, with the repelling rays.
" It is supposed likewise, that the plane of the earth's
orbit, is in winter in or near the sun's axis, whence the
rays are not so forcibly emitted; for which cause the
earth must then come nearer, the repelling force being
weaker. But in summer, being objected to the more
forcibly repelling rays, it must be driven to a farther
distance; whence its annual orbit must become ellip-
tical.
" The earth's diameter being known, determines its dis-
tance from the sun. For as the diameter is 7.967, the
periphery 25031, which multiplied by the number of its
revolutions 36,525, gives for its orbit 9,142,572: and
as it moves through this orbit merely by the impulse of
the solar rays, and as the gravitating force must necessa-
rily be e-; •.;•*.' to that'impelliijg force ; so while it rolls
onward o/.; uile, it is attracted another. Consequently
the preceu :; orbit being doubled, by the gravitating
force, make in all 18/285,144. The semi-diameter of
this is the distance of the earth from the sun: which
therefore is neither more nor less than 2,910,364
miles.
" In the same manner we find the distance of Venus
from the sun, t<> b" 1,790,684 miles: that of Mars,
5,473,690 ; that of Jtipiter^ 34,520,432 : that of Sa-
turn, "85,727,320 : and that of Mercury, 700,758.
" -And as these distances are fur less than those assigned
2
37
by the modern astronomers ; so is the magnitude of the
heavenly bodies proportionally less th^n they suppose.
For instance ; the diameter of the sun, commonly sup-
posed to be 822, 148 miles, is according to this manner of
calculating, 23,373 and no more. And that this is nearly
the true diameter, and these the true distances appears
from experiments on the transits of the planets over the
sun."
The' comets, Dr. Rogers thinks, are chiefly designed
to repair the quantities of light continually emitted by
the sun, and which are scattered and dispersed over the
whole system. Their sweeping tails, which extend so
many thousand miles, seem adapted to such a purpose.
And as many of those particles of light, are driven to a
vast distance, it is necessary they should go to the ut-
most limits of the system, to make such a collection.
Suppose a body fit for this, detached from the neigh-
bourhood of the sun, it should be light, porous and
spongy. And such a body would be propelled by the
violence of the rays, with great velocity to a great dis-
tance. The farther it goes, the fewer rays strike upon
it, and their force likewise is diminished. The comet
then slowly sweeps his tail over the wide expanse, beyond
the orbit of Saturn. There its cells are filled with the
matter it was sent 'to collect ; but becoming heavier, the
other scale begins to preponderate, and he slowly re-
turns toward his centre. His collection increases as he
descends, which adds to his weight and swiftness, and he
comes down, if very heavy, almost in a strait line ; if less
so, in a larger curve, till he is near the sun, where hav-
ing emptied himself, and being evenly balanced with the
repelling rays, he moves round in the segment of a circle,
till being continually lighter, he is no longer a balance
for the repelling rays, and so is driven forward thereby,
and runs the same circle as before.
What a violent blow is here given to the whole fabric
cG
of modern astronomy ! And how can any reasonable''
subscribe thereto, till this difficulty is removed I
9. There is no need to speak particularly of those
other qualities, hardness, softness ; firmness, fluidity ;
Irittleness, toughness', roughness, smoothness, density,
rarity -} -regidity, flexibility ; compressibility, elasticity.
What each of tiiese is, we know well, without any ela-
borate definition ; and in general we kiiow, that they
all arise frotn the various iigure, situation and texture of
the particles whereof bodies consist. But farther than
this we know not. What particular shape, texture, or
situation, is requisite ill each case, is a matter of mere'
conjecture,
10. Those of which we' are not able to give any ra-
tional account, have often been termed occult 'qualities^
Among these is usually ranked that smyptithy, which is
observed in things distant from each other. So onions;
in the granary sprout, while others sprout in the garden,
So nothing is more common, than that if yon throw a
mulberry or strawberry at a woman with child, the
child has the mark of one or the other, on Uie same'
part which was struck witft it. Aiid these marks grow
green, yellow and red every year, just as those fruits do
in the garden ; and when the season of them is past,
these subside, and vanish away. So women startled by
a sudden sight of the moon, have stamped the figure of-
the moon on their children ; and this figure increased"
or decreased just as the moon did. Opposite to this, is'
that amazing antipathy, Which somethings appear to
have naturally for each other, Instances of which are
found, not only in men, but in animals, if not in plant*
also.
Before we attempt to account for any of these things,
\Y£ should take care to be well asswred of the fact. For
many of them are generally believed and vehemently
^asserted,, which yet never had any being. Hence
others run into the opposite extreme, roundly denying
whatever they cannot account for. The middle way is
3*
oest.' First, be sure of the fact. Then, try if it can b<?
accounted for onallowed'principles. And if it can, the'
qualities in question are to be termed occult ne longer,
But there will still remain many secrets in nature, which
we are in nowise able to account for. Indeed to pene*
trate the inmost recesses of nature, is above th&'condi-
lion of humanity. We must therefore necessarily allow,
that there are in this sense mtuiy occult qualities : nay,
we are surrounded witli them on every side : insomuch
that there is scarce any thing in the universe, that has
not some qualities, which the wisest man on trarth is not
able to account for.
11.! have now finished what I proposed. I have
given as short and plain an account as I could, of all that
is certain in Natural Philosophy : in order to direct ihe
whole to its proper end, I have now only to add a few
reflections,
If we1 cast our eyes up to the firmament, let us serious-
ly ask ourselves, what power built over our heads that
vast and magnificent archa and spread out the Heaven s
like a curtain ? Who garnished these heavens with such
a variety of resplendent objects, all floating in the
liquid ether, and regular in their motions? Who
painted the clouds with such variety of colours, and in.
such diversity of shades and figures, as it is not in the
power of the finest pencil on earth to emulate? Who
formed the sun of such a determinate size, and placed it
at su£h a convenient distance, as not to scorch or annoy,
but to cherish all things with his genial heat? For a- suc-
cession of ages he never failed to rise at his appointed
time^-or to send out the dawn as his forerunner, to pro-
claim his approach. By whose skilful hand is it directt \
in its diurnal and annual course^ to give us the grateful
vicissitude of night and day, and the regular succession
of the seasons ] That it should always proceed in the
same path, and never once step aside : that it should go
on, in a space where there is nothing to obstruct, but
40
turn at a determinate point : that the moon should supply
the absence of the sun, and remove the horror of the night;
that it should regulate the flux and reflux of the sea,
thereby preserving the waters from putrefaction, and at
the same time accommodating mankind with so manifold
conveniences: that all the innumerable hosts of heaven,
should perform their revolutions 'with such exactness, as
never once to fail, in a course of six thousand years,
but constantly to come about in the same round to the
hundredth part of a minute: this is such an incontest-
able proof of a divine architect, and of the care and wis-
dom wherewith he governs the universe, as made the
Roman philosopher conclude, " whoever imagines, that
the wonderful order and incredible constancy or the
heavenly bodies and their motions, whereon the welfare
and preservation of things depend, are not governed
by an intelligent being, is himself destitute of under-
standing. For shall we, when we see an artfully con-
trived engine, suppose a dial or sphere, immediately ac-
knowledge that it is the result of reason and understand-
ing: and yet, when we behold the heavens, so admira-
bly contrived, moved with such incredible velocity, and
finishing their anniversary revolutions, with such un-
erring constancy, make any doubt of their being the
work, not only of reason, but of an excellent, a divine
reason V
But if from that very imperfect knowledge of astro*
nomy which his time affortled, even the heathen could
be so confident, that the he&venly bodies were framed
and moved by a wise and understanding mind : what
would he have said, had he been acquainted with our
modern discoveries ] Had he known the immense great-
ness of that part of the world, which falls under our ob-
servation ? The exquisite regulation of the motions of
the planets, without any deviation or confusion : the in-
expressible nicety of adjustment, in the velocity of the
earth's annual motion ; the wonderful proportion of its
diurnal motion about its own axis; the densities of the
41
planets, exactly proportioned to their distances from the
sun: the admirable order of the several satellites, which
move round their respective planets ; the motion of the
comets equally regular and periodical, with tha't of the
other planetary bodies ; and lastly, the preservation of
the several planets and comets, from falling upon, or in-
terfering with each other? Certainly could argument
avail, Atheism would now be utterly ashamed to shew
its head, and forced to acknowledge, that it was an
eternal and almighty Being, it was God alone, who gave
to each of (lie celestial bodies, its proper magnitude and
measure of heat, its dueness of distance, and regula-
rity of motion : or in the language of the prophet, who
established the ivorld by his wisdom, and stretched out
the Heavens ly his understanding.
If from the firmament we descend to the orb on which
we dwell, what a glorious proof have we of the divine
wisdom, in this intermediate expansion of the air,
which is so wonderfully contrived, to answer so many
important ends at once ! It receives and supports clouds,
to water the earth. It affords us winds, for health, for
pleasure, for a thousand conveniences : by its spring, it
ministers to the respiration of animals ; by its motion to
the conveyance of sounds; and by its transparency, to
the transmission of light, from one end of Heaven to the
other. Whose power made so thin and fluid an element,
a safe repository for thunder and lightning] By whose
command, and out of whose treasuries, are these dread-
ful, yet useful meteors sent forth, to purify the air, which
would otherwise stagnate, and consume the vapours
that would otherwise breed various diseases] By what
skilful hand are those immense quantities of water,
\\hich are continually drawn from the sea, by a natural
distillation made fresh, sent forth upon the wings of
the wind, into the most distant -countries, and distri-
buted in showers over the face of the earth ?
Whose power and wisdom was it that hanged the
earth upon nothing, and gave it a spherical figure, the
most commodious which could be devised, both for the
consistency of it parts, and the velocity of its motion ?
Who was it that w eigked the mountains in scales, and
the hills in a balance, and disposed them in their most
proper places, both for fruitfulness and health 1 Who
diversified the climates of the earth into such an agree-
able variety, that, remote as they ar-e from each other,
each has its proper seasons, day and night, winter and
summer] Who was it that clothed the face of it witlv
plants and flowers so exquisitely adorned with various
and inimitable beauties ? That placed the plant in the
seed, in such elegant complications, as afford at once
both a pleasing and an astonishing spectacle 7 That J
painted and perfumed the flowers, that gave them the
sweet odours which they diffuse through the air for our
delight, and with one and the same water dyed them
into different colours, surpassing the imitation, nay, and :
the comprehension of mankind 1 For can the wisest of'1'
men tell,
" Why does one climate and one soil endue
The blushing poppy with a crimson hue.
Yet leave the lilly pale, and tinge the violet blue 1"
Who replenished the earth, the water, -the air, with *
such an infinite variety of living creatures, and so form-
ed, that of the innumerable • particulars wherein each
creature (lifters from ail others, every one is found upon
examination to have its singular beauty and peculiar"
use. Some walk, some creep, some ily> some 'swim.
But every one has all its members and its various organs
accurately fitted for its peculiar motions. In short, the
state! iness of the horse and the feathers of the swan,
the largeness of the elephant and the smaliness t>f the
mite, are to a considerate mind equal demonstration of
an infinite wisdom and power. Nay, rather the smaller
the creature is, the more amazing is the workmanship.
When in the mite, for instance, we see a head, a body,
legs and feet, all as v\ell proportioned as those of an
elephant, and consider vvithal that in every part of this
living atom there are muscltes, -nerves, Terns, arteries;
ajid blood; every particle of -which blood is composed
of various other pai tides: when we consider all this,
can we help being lost in wonder and astonishment 1
0 the depth, of the riches voik of 'the- wisdom aha Knmv^
ledge of God ! How unsearchable are his wurh and his
ways of' creation and providence past Jin ding out I .
Natural- instinct is another thing in animals no less
wonderful than their frame ; and is indeed nothing else
than the direction of an all-wise and all-powerful mind*
What else teaches birds, to build their nests, hard or soft,
according to the constitution of their young? What
dlse makes them keep so constantly in their nest during;
the time of incubation, as if they knew the efficacy of
their own warmth, and its aptness for animation 1
What else causes the salmon every year to come up a
river, perhaps hundreds of miles, to cast its spawn,., and .•
secure it in banks of sand till the young ones are ex-
cluded ? To go no farther, can we behold the spider's
net, the siik-vi orm's web, the bees cells, or the ant's
granaries, without being forced to acknowledge the in-
iinite wisdom which directs their unerring steps, and
lias made them fit to be; an emblem of art, industry, and
frugality, to mankind ? .
If, from the earth, and t lie creatures that live up c«
it, we cast our eyes upon the water, we soon perceive
that had it been more or less rarefied, it had not been
so proper for the use of man. And who gave it tha^
just configuration of parts and exact degree of motion,
which makes it so fluent,, and yet so strong as to carry
and waft a way .the most enormous burdens \ Who has
instructed the rivers to rua in so many winding streams
through vast tracts of land, in; order to water them the
inore plentifully .'? Then to disembogue themselves into
the ocean, so making it the corn m on centre of COITH
iijerce : and thence to. return, through the earth and air,
to their fountain heads, in one perpetual circulation 1
i^hed these. rjvers with, ibiiof ail kmd^, whicb
44
glide through the limpid streams, and run heedlessly
into the fisher's net, for the entertainment of men I
The great and wide sea is a very avvful and stupendous
work of God, WJio*p VianH «-' ~ . :* ^L _—u. ^w
\\iin sucn exactness ? A little more or less motion in the
fluid mass would disorder all mature, and a small in-
crease of a tide, might ruin whole kingdoms. Who
then was so wise as to take exact measures of-tho.se im-
mense bodies, and who so strong es to rule at pleasure
the rage of that furious element? He who hath- placed
the sand for the bound of these, ly a perpetual decree
that it cann&t pass. So that though the ivaves. therc.qf
toss themselves, they cannot prevail, though they roar
they cannot pass over it.
If, from the world ifself, we turn our eyes more par-
ticularly on man, whom it hath pleased the Lord of all
to appoint for its principal inhabitant, no understanding
surely can be so low, no hear stupid and insensible,
as not plainly to see that notu^g but infinite wisdom
could in so wonderful a manner hava fashioned his
<body, and breathed into it a re^sonabh; soul, whereby
he teachtth us more than the beasts of the JIM, and
maketh us wiser than the fowls of heaven.
Should any of us see a lump of clay rise immediately
from the ground into the complete figure of a man, full
of beauty and symmetry, and endowed with all the
powrers and faculties which we perceive in ourselves, yea,
and that in a more eminent degree of perfection than
any of the present children of men ; should we pre-
sently after observe him perform all the offices of life,
sense and reason ; move as gracefully, talk as eloquently,
reason as justly, and discharge every branch of duty
with as as much accuracy as the most accomplished
man breathing, how great must be our astonishment !
No\v this was the very case in that moment when God
created man upon the earth.
But to impress this in a more lively manner upon the
45
mind, let us suppose the figure above mentioned rises by
degrees, and is finished part by part in some succession
of lime. When the whole is completed, the veins and
arter.es bored, the sinews and tendons laid, the joints
fitted, the blood and juices lodged in the vessels pre-
pared for them, God infuses into it a vital principle.
The image moves, it walks, it speaks. Were we to see
all tin's transacted before our eyes, we could not but be
astonished; A consideration of this made David break
out into that rapturous acknowledgment. I -will give thee
thanks, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made!
Marvellous are thy works, and that my soul kuoweth
right well. Thine eyes did see my substance yet
being imperfect, and in tJiy book were all my members
written.
Thus, which way soever we turn our eyes, whether we
look upward or downward, without us or within us,
upon the animate or inanimate parts of the creation, we
find abundant reason to say, 0 Lord, how manifold are
thy works / In wisdom hast thou made them all.
Let us observe a little farther the terraqueous globe :
how admirably are all things thereon chained together,
that they may all aim at the ultimate end \\ hich God
proposed in all his works ! And how vast a number of
intermediate ends are subservient to this ! To perpe-
tuate the established course of nature in a continued
series, the Divine Wisdom has thought fit that all living
creatures should constantly be employed in producing
individuals, that all natural things should lend a helping
baud toward preserving every species, and lastly, that
the destruction of one tiling should always conduce to
the production of another.
This globe contains what are called the three king-
doms of nature, the Jossile, vegetable, and animal.
The fossile constitutes the crust of the earth, lyinj/ be-
neath the visible surface ; the vegetable adorns the face
46 ••
of the globe, and draws -much of its nourishment from--
the fossile kingdom. The animal is almost wholly sus-
stai.ned by the vegetable kingdom, If \ve go deeper
into the earth, the rule which generally obtains with re-
gard to the strata thereof is this : The upper parts con-
sist of rag -stone, the next of slate, the third ol marble
Itlled with petrefactions, the ibarth of slate again, and
lastly, the lowest \\hich We are able to discover, cf-
free stone.
That the sea once overspread a far greater part of
the earth than it does at present we learn not only from
geographers, but from its yearly decrease, observable in
many places ; partly occasioned by the vast quantities
of shells, and all kinds of rubbish which the tides con-
tinually leave on the shores. Hence most shores "are
usually full of wreck, of dead, testaceous animals, of
stones, dirt, or sand of various kinds, and heaps of other
things. Rivers likewise/ especially those which have a
rapid stream, wear away whatever they touch, particu-
larly soft and friable earth, which they carry and deposit
on distant winding shores: whence it is certain the sea
coiilinually subsides^nd the land gains no small increase.
Water retained in low grounds occasions marshes.
B«t what a wonderful provision has nature made, thai
inany of these, even without the heip of man, shall
again become firm ground ! More and more mossy
tumps are seen therein: some of these are brought
down by the water, from the higher grounds adjoining.,
and others are produced by putrilving plants : thus the
marsh is dried up and new meadows arise ; and this is
done in a shorter time whenever the sphagnum, a kind
of moss, has laid the foundation: for this, in process
of time, changes into a porous kind of mold, -till almost
all the marsh is filled with it. After this ihe nish begins
to strike root, ami, together with the cotton-grass, con-
stitutes a tnrf, wherein the roots get continually higher,
itad thus .fay a firm .foundation for otJber plants, till the .
*7
m-hole marsh is covered with herbs and grass, and be-
comes a pleasant and fruitful meadow.
I shall add only one reflection more, with regard to
•the scale of beings. As the microscope discovers almost
every drop of water, every blade of grass, every lea£
flower, and grain of earth, to be swarming with inhabi-
tants : a thinking mind is naturally led to consider that
-part of the scale of beings, which descends lower and
lower, from himself, to the lowest of all sensitive
creatures. Among these some are so little above dead
/matter, that it is hard to determine whether they live or
no. Others that are lifted . one step higher, have no
sense beside feeling and taste. Some again have the
additional one of hearing: others of smell, and others
of sight.
It is .wonderful to observe 3 by what a gradual pro-
gression the world of life advances, through an immense
-variety of .species, before a . creature is found, that is
.--complete in all its senses. And among these there arc
so many different degrees of perfection in the senses
which one animal enjoys above another, that though
.each sei^e in different animals, comes under the same
common denomination, yet it seems almost of a dif-
ferent nature. If after this, we attentively consider
the inward endowments of animals, their cunning and
sagacity, and what we usually^comprehend under the
general name of instinct, we find them rising one above
another, in the same imperceptible manner, and receiving
• higher and higher improvements, according to the
jspecies in which they are implanted.
The whole progress of nature is so gradual, that the
entire chasm from a plant to man, is tilled up with
divers kinds of creatures, rising one above another, by
so gentle an ascent, that the transitions from one species
to another, are almost insensible. And the intermediate
space is so well husbanded, that there is scarce a degree
-of perfection which does not appear in some. Now
48
since the scale of being advances by such regular steps
as high as man, is it not probable, that it still proceeds
gradually upwards, through beings of a superior nature I
As there is an infinitely greater space between the Su-
preme Being and man, than between man and the lowest
insect.
This thought is thus enlarged upon by Mr. Lock :
" That there should be more species of intelligent crea-
tures above us than there are of sensible and material
below us is probable from hence, that in all the visible
and corporeal world we see no chasm, no gaps. All
quite down from man, the descent is by easy steps: there
is a continued series of things that in each remove differ
the least that can be conceived from each other* There
are fishes that have wings, and are ,not' strangers to the
airy regions ; and there are birds which are inhabitants
of the waters, whose blood is as cold as that of fishes.
There are animals so near a-kin both to birds and beasts
that they are in the middle between both. Amphibi-
ous animals link the terrestrial and aquatic together.
Seals live either on land or in the sea. Porpusses
have the warm blood and entrails of a hog. There are
brutes that seem to have as much knowledge and reason
as some that are called men. Again ; the animal and
vegetable kingdoms are so closely joined, that between
the lowest of the one and the highest of the other, there
is scarce any perceptible difference. And if we go on
till we come to the lowest and most inorganical parts of
matter, we shall find every where that the several
species are linked together, and differ in almost insensi-
ble degrees.
" Now, when we consider, on the other hand, the in-
finite power and wisdom of the Creator, does it not ap-
pear highly suitable to the magnificent harmony of the
universe, and the infinite goodness of the architect, that
the species of creatures should also, by gentle degrees,
ascend upwards from us (as they gradually descend from
us downwards), towards his infinite perfection 1 And if
49
so, is it not probable there are far more species of crea-
•lures above than beneath us? since we are infinitely
more remote from the all-perfect Creator than from
the lowest of all the works of his hands'?
" But here our thoughts are lost. We may conjec-
ture a iiftle ; but we know nothing. However, it is
enough that we know the^only true^Godf and Jesus
Christ whom he hath sent."
This reflection upon the scale of beings is pursued at
large by one of the finest writers of the age, Mr. Bon-
net, of Geneva, in that beautiful work, " The Contem-
plation of Nature/' When I tirst read this, I designed to
make only some extracts from it, to be inserted under
their proper heads ; but, upon farther consideration, I
judged it would be more agreeable, as well as profitable
to the reader, to give an abridgement of the whole,
that the admirable chain of reasoning may be preserved,
and the adorable wisdom and goodness of the great
Author of nature placed in the strongest light.
INTRODUCTION
I RAISE myself up to the ETERNAL REASON ; I
study his laws, and I adore him. 1 contemplate the
universe with a philosophic eye : I search into the re-
lations which by this immense chain constitute one
\vhole. I stop a while to examine some links of it, and,
struck with those marks of power, wisdom, and good-
ness which 1 discover therein, I faintly attempt their
description.
CHAP. I.
-Of the Jirst Cameo
Tv
O be self-existent, endued with Almigh'y
;power, and to will with infinite wisdom, are the adora-
ble perfections of the first cause.
The universe is undoubtedly derived from this cause.
In vain do we endeavour by other means to account for
it. We may every where observe order and ends,
the effects of an ETERNAL SELF-EXISTENT REASON.
2. What mind can fathom the depths of this abyss 1
"What thought can comprehend that Power which calls
filings that are not as though they were? God com-
mands the universe to be: the universe is instantly
jroduced.
A single act of his will produced the universe — the
4ame act preserves it.
But you ask, Why is not man as perfect as an angel ?
"You mean to say, no doubt, Why is not man an angel?
You may as well enquire, Why a stag is not a man?
But the existence of a stag supposes that of herbs to
nourish him: Would you still further have had these
herbs to have beep so many men ? Their preservation
and increase would have depended on the earth, the
water, the air, and the tire : would you presume to in-
sist in your enquiry, Why the constituent parts of these
elements were not. so many dwarfs ?
Confess your error, and acknowledge that every being
is endued with a perfection suited to the ends of its
3
It
Creation. It would cease to answer that end the very
moment it ceased to be what it is. By changing its
nature it would change its place, and that which it occu-
pied in the universal hierarchy ought still to be the re-
sidence of a being resembling it, otherwise harmony
would be destroyed.
*Ih the assemblage of all the orders of relative perfec-
tions consist the absolute perfection of this whole, con-
cerning which God said, That it was good.
This immense system of co-existent and successive
beings, is no less one in succession than in co-ordination^
since the first link is connected with the last by the in-
termediate one. Present events may make way for the
most distant ones. The germ which expanded itself in
Sarah's womb was the preparatory cause of the existence
•of a. great people, and the salvation of nations.
3. The heavens declare the glory of God, arid the
'firmament sheweth his handy-work. That sublime ge-
nius, who expressed himself with such loftiness of senti-
ment, was nevertheless unapprized that the stars which
he contemplated were in reality suns.* He anticipated
the times, and first sung that majestic hymn which,
future and more enlightened ages should chaunt forth
io the praise of the Founder of worlds.
This assemblage of vast bodies is divided into differ-
ent systems, the number of which perhaps exceeds the
grains of sand which the sea casts on its shores.
Each system then has its centre, either a star or sun,
which shines with its own light, and round which revolve
various orders of opake globes, that reflect with greater
or less lustre the light they borrow from it, which ren-
ders them visible to us.
These globes, which seern to wander among the
heavenly bodies, are those planets^ th6 principal of
* Perhaps so.
VOL. IV. I)
52
which have the sun for the common centre of their
periodical revolutions : whilst the others, which are
called secondary, move round one principal planet,
which they accompany like satellites, m its annual re-
volution.
Venus and the earth have each of them their satel-
lite: one will undoubtedly be some time or other dis-
covered in Mars. Jupiter has four, Saturn five, and a
ring or luminous atmosphere which seems to perform
the office of a number of small moons ; being situate so
far from the sun, he would have received too faint a
light from it, if his satellite and ring did not augment it
by reflection.
We have discovered twenty-seven planets, which at
present compose our solar system ; but we are not cer-
tain that there are not more. Their number has re-
ceived a great increase by the invention of telescopes :
more perfect instruments, and more accurate observers,
may probably make farther additions to them. The
satellite of Venus, discovered in the last century, gives
room to hope for still greater success.
4. The comets also are now found to be planetary
bodies, whose long routes our astronomers calculate,
foretel their distant returns, and determine their place,
appearances, and tract. Upwards of thirty of these
bodies at present acknowledge the empire of our sun,
and the orbits which some trace round are so extensive,
that they do not complete their course till the end of
a long series of years, and even many ages.
The stars are innumerable ; and the constellations,
which antiquity reckoned to be but few in number,
amount to thousands.
If the diameter of the great orbit, which our planet
describes round the sun, is more than sixty millions of
leagues, yet this vast circumference vanishes into no-
2
53
thing, and becomes a mere point, when made use of to
measure the distance of the fixed stars.
How great then must the real bulk of these luminous
spots be that are perceivable by us at such enormous
distance ! The sun is supposed about a million of times
greater than the earth, and a hundred and ten times
greater than all the planets put together.
5. Whilst the planets perform these revolutions
round the sun, by which the course of their years is re-
gulated, they effect another amoug themselves, which
determines the alternatives of their days and nights.
But how do these vast bodies remain suspended in
space ? What secret power retains them in their orbits3
and enables them to circulate with so much regularity
and harmony] Gravity, that powerful agent, is the
universal principle of this equilibrium and these mo^
tions : it penetrates into the inmost parts of all bodies .
By virtue of this force they tend towards each other in. a
proportion relative to their distance and bulk. So that
the planets tend towards the common centre of the
system, and they would be instantly precipitated into it,
if the Creator, when he formed them, had not endued
them with a centrifugal motion, by which they are
continually kept at a due distance from the centre.
Each planet, in constant subserviency to these two
forces, describes a curve in consequence thereof. By
this means the same force which determines the fall of
a stone, is the ruling principle of the heavenly motions :
wonderful mechanism ! whose simplicity and energy
give us unceasing tokens of the PROFOUND WISDOM of
its AUTHOR.
The globe of earth, which is externally divided into
lands and seas, nearly level in their surfaces, is formed
within, at least to a certain depth, of leds of heteroge-
neous matter, that are almost parellel, more or less
dense, and of a finer or coarser texture.
The surface of the earth abounds with great iii
lities. In one part of it we behold vast plains intersect-
ed by hills and vailies. Tn another long chains of moun-
tains, which lift their frozen heads to the clouds, and
betwixt them deep valiies. From the bosom of these
mountains rivers spring, -which, after having watered
divers countries a nd produced ponds and lakes in several
places by enlarging their beds, at length discharge
themselves into the sea, and restore to it what it had
lost by evaporation.
6. The sea presents us with islands scattered round
its coasts, with sands, rocks, currents, gulphs, and
storms, and with that regular and admirable motion
whereby its \yate-rs rise and fall twice in twenty -four
hours.
The; lands and seas are every where replenished wif)t
plants and animals, whose infinitely varied species re-
sort together in every place. Men divided into nations,
peoples and families, cover the surface of the globe.
They fashion and enrich it by their various labours, and
build habitations from pole to pole, corresponding with
their manners, genius, soil, climate.
A rare, transparent, elastic substance encompasses all
parts of the earth to a certain height : this substance
is the atmosphere, the repository for the winds, the im-
mense reservoir of vapours and exhalations, which being
sometimes collected into clouds of a greater or lesser
consistence, adorn our element by their forms and co^
lours, or astonish us by their flashes and vjolent noise .
and at other times melting into dews, mistss rain, snow'
hail, yield back to the earth what was .exhaled from it/
7. The moon, ;the nearest to the .earth of all the
planets, is that we have the best knowledge of. Its
globe, which is about tive-and-forty times less than
ours, always appears to us with the same aspect, be-
it performs its re volutiort precisely in the same
space of time that it revolves round the earth.
It has its gradual and periodical increase and decrease
of light, according to its position with respect to the '
sun,, which enlightens -it; and tt> the* earth, whereon it
reflects tire Itgiit-cf that sun-/-
The disk of the- moon is externally divided info
luminous and obscure parts : the former seems -analo-
gous to lands en our globe, and the latter to our
In the luminous parts there have been observed some
places brighter than the rest, which cast a shade from
their side, which has been measured, and the tract ascer-
tained. These parts are mountains much higher than
ours, in proportion to the size of the moon, and whose
tops the sun Iras been seen to gild when that planet is
quartered) the light descending by little and little to
the foot of these mountains, they appear at that time
entirely bright Some are by themselves, others form
very long tracts,
Venus has, like the moon, her spots and mountains*:
so have Mars and Jupiter. Those in Jupiter form large
belts, which make considerable motions, like the oceans
overflowing the lands, and afterwards leaving them dry
cm his retreat*
Mercury and Saturn are little known to us, the first
because it is too near the sun, the- second because it is
at too great a distance*
Lastly* the, sun himself ha? spats, which seem to move
regularly, and whose size equals, and very oiten exceeds,
that of such as arc seen in the greatest planets.
8. Pure spirits, immaterial and intelligent substances,
e and solid substances; mixed beings, formed
56
by the union of ftn immaterial substance and a corporeal,
are the three general classes of beings which \ve have any
conception of in the universe.
In the universe all is combination, affinity, connexion.
There is nothing but what is the immediate effect of
somewhat preceding it, and determines the existence of
something that should follow it.
The divine mind has so closely connected every part of
his work, that there is not one which has not a relation
to the whole system. A mushroom, a mite are as essen-
tial parts oi it as the cedar or elephant.
So that those minute productions of nature, which un-
thinking men judge to be useless, are not mere particles
of dust on the wheels of the machine of the world ; they
are small wheels intermixed with the greater.
There is nothing then by itself: every being has an
activity peculiar to it, determined by the rank appointed
for it in the universe. A mite is a very small imoveable
creature, which acts in conceit with others, whose activity
extends to much greater distances. The spheres thua
enlarging themselves more and more, this amazing pro-
gression rises by degrees from the vortex cf amber to
the solar vortex ; from the sphere of a mite to that of an
angel.
9. The elements act reciprocally on each other, ac-
cording to certain laws which result from their relations :
and these relations unite them to minerals, plants, ani-
mals, and to men. This last, as the principal trunk,
spreads its branches all over the globe.
These species and individuals have relation to the
bigness and solidity of the earth : the solidity and size of
the earth have relation to the place she occupies in the
planetary system.
The sun, gravitates on the planets, the planets on
the sun, and on each other; all gravitate on their
neighbouring systems: these on more distant cues;
57
and the balance of the universe remains in equilibrio, in
the hands of the ANTIENT OF DAYS.
The human soul, by being united to an organized
body, maintains an intercourse with all nature.
From these general principles proceeds the connection
of causes arid effects, of effects and causes.
From hence also arises that indissoluble union which
forms, of past, present, future, and eternity, one entire
individual whole.
The beauty of the world is founded in the harmoni-
ous diversity of the beings that compose it, in the num-
ber, extent, and quality of their effects, and iu the de-
gree of goodness arising therefrom.
CHAP II;
Of the relative Perfection of Beings.
EPRESTR1AL beings may naturally be ranged
imtkrfour general classes:
I. Brute and inorganized beings.
II. Organized and inanimate beings.
III. Organized and animate beings.
IV. Organized, animate., and reasonable beings.
All beings are perfect, considered in themselves ; they,
all answer one end. The determinations or qualities,
proper for each being, are the means relative to this
end. If these determinations should change, they would
no longer have a reference to their end, and there would--
be no more wisdom.
But those means which are of a more exalted nature
answer a. nobler end. The being appointed to fulfil
this end, is enriched with proportionable faculties.
Beings whose relations to the whole are more varied,
more multiplied, and more copious, possess a, higher de-
gree of relative perfection.
As there are. two general classes of substances, bodies
and souls, there are likewise two general classes of per-
fection, the corporeal perfection, or ilia t which is pecu-
liar to bodies; and the spiritual perfection, or that
which is peculiar to souls.
These two perfections are reunited in every organized
animated being, and they correspond with one another.
Froi» their. reunion proceeds that mixed perfection
59
which answers to the rank every being holds in tire
system.
2. Of all the modifications of matter, the most * ex-
cellent is organization*
The most perfect organization is that which produces
most effects, with an equal or smaller number of dissi-
milar parts. Such -amongst terrestrial beings is the hu-
man body,
An organ is a system of solids whose structure, ar-
rangement; and action, have "motion for their ultimate *
eiidV either intestine or loco-motive, or feeling.
A being, which is barely formed by a repetition of
similar parts, enjoys the lowest degrees of corporeal
perfection. Such probably is the- atom or elementary:
part tide.
The faculty of generalizing ideas, or abstracting from !
bject what it has in common with others, and
expressing it by^arbitrary signs, constitutes the highest
degree of spiritual perfection; and therein consists
the 'difference' between the human soul and the soul of
brutes.
The soul which is only endued with sense occupies
the lowest degree in the scale. This perhaps is the per-
fection of the soul of the muscle.
3. The reciprocal action of solius and fluids is the
foundation of the terrestrial life.
To nourish ourselves, to grow by our food, to beget
individuals off our own species, are the principal ends of
the terrestrial life/
If the action of the organs is not accompanied with a
sense of this action, the organized being enjoys oii
vegetative life. Such is the case of the plant.
if the action ot the organs is joined with a sen.
60
that action, the organized being enjoys a vegetative and
sensative life. This is the condition of the Irute.
Finally, if reflection is joined to feeling, the being en-
joys at the same time a vegetative, sensative and reflec-
tive life. It is man alone, upon earth, that unites these
three kinds of Jife in himself,
The corporeal and intellectual faculties may be car-
ried to so high a pitch of perfection, in the most exalted
order of mixed beings, that we are able to form but faint
ideas of them.
4. Between the lowest and highest degree of corpo-
real and spiritual perfection, there is an almost infinite
number of intermediate degrees. The result of these
degrees composes the universal chain. This unites all
beings, connects all worlds, comprehends all the spheres.
One SOLE BEING is out of this chain, and that is
HE that made it.
A thick cloud conceals from our sight the noblest
parts of this immense chain, and admits us only to a
slight view of some ill-connected links, which are bro-
ken, and greatly differing from the natural order.
We behold its winding course on the surface of our
globe, see it pierce into its entrails, penetrate into.. the
abyss of the sea, dart itself into the atmosphere, sink
far into the celestial spaces, where we are only able to
descry it by the flashes of fire it emits hither and thi-
ther.
But notwithstanding our knowledge of the chain of
beings is so very imperfect, it is sufficient at jeast to
inspire us with the most exalted ideas of that amazing
and noble progression and variety which reign iu the
universe.
5. There are no sudden changes in nature ; all is
gradual, and elegantly varied. There is no being
which has not either above or beneath it some that
resemble it in certain characters, and differ from it in
others.
61
Amongst these characters which distinguish beings,
we discover some that are more or less general. Whence
we derive our distributions into classes, genera, and spe-
cies. But there are always between two classes, atid
two like genera, mean productions, which seem not to
belong more to one than to the other, but to connect
them both.
The polypus links the vegetable to the animal*
The flying squirrel unites the birds to the quadru-
ped. The ape bears affinity to the quadruped and
the man.
But if there is nothing cut off in nature, it is evident
that the distributions we make are not her's. Those
we form are purely nominal, relative to our necessities
and the bounds of our knowledge. Those intelligences
which are superior to us, discover perhaps more varieties
between two individuals which we range under the same
species, than we do between two individuals of distant
genera.
So that these intelligences see the scale of beings all
composing one single consequence, which has for its first
term an atom, and for its last the most exalted seraph.
We may then suppose in the scale of our globe as
many steps as we Know there are species. The eighteen
or twenty thousand species of plants which compose our
herbals, are therefore eighteen or twenty thousand steps
of this celestial ladder.
And there is not a single plant amongst these, which
does not perhaps nourish one, or more species of ani-
mals. These animals harbour or provide nourishment
for others in their turn. They are so many little worlds
comprized in others that are still smaller.
Simple produces compound. The molecule forms
the fibre, the fibre the vessel, the vessel the organ, the
organ the body.
The scale of nature then is constructed by passing
D 6
62
from that which composes if, to that which- is composed
by it, from the lessjperfect to the greater.
But while we view it in this light, and in a very
general manner, we are not to forget that our me-
thod of conception is not the rule of things. We are
only to take a transient survey of the exterior parts of;
beings,
CHAP. Ill,
A'general Fiewof the gradual Progression of Beings*
r. JT ROM the immutability of species amidst the
perpetual motion that reigns in the universe, is de-
duced the indivisibility of the first principles of. bodies:
and the indivisibility of these principles would demon-
strate the simplicity of their nature, if God had not
power to render the highly compounded particles inca-
pable of separation.
The nature of elementary atoms, their forms, relative
proportions, and the manner whereby they effect the
formation of bodies, are branches of knowledge that
surpass the reach of the human miad.
So that we cannot determine whether there are as
many species of elements as of bodies ; or whether the
same elementary particles, variously combined, give
birth to different compounded species.
We are likewise ignorant what.it is that essentially
distinguishes one body from every other; those we call
essential characters) are only the ultimate result of the
first principles.
O how interesting would the sight be, were we per-
mitted to penetrate into these principles ! A new world
would disclose itself to our view ; nature then become
transparent, would no longer conceal her way from us:
her laboratories and workshops would then be thrown
open. Here we should see her collecting the principles
of metals ; there behold her preparing the colour or the
rose. Further, we might trace her footsteps into the
64
wonders of light and electricity. In other places should
observe her sketching the out-lines of a plant or animal.
Astonished at the sight of this admirable work \ve should
never be weary of contemplating the infinite diversity of
preparations, combinations, and motions, by which it is
insensibly brought to its perfection.
Ye celestial spirits who assisted at the creation of our
world, you enjoy these pleasures! Being more favoured
than us by the MASTER of nature, you penetrate into
what escapes our notice, and see with what difficulty we
creep from one truth to another, as we observe the ef-
forts of an ape to imitate a man.
2. Observe three principal kinds of compositions in
terrestrial bodies. 1 That of fluids. 2. That of rude
or un-organized solids. 3. That of organized solids.
The first genus, which is the most simple, seems to
consist in a bare\:ontact of homogeneous particles, which
tend towards each other ; but the least force divides
them.
The second, which is more compounded, is formed of
the union of different particles into a solid mass]
The third, still more compounded, is formed of the
intermixture of an infinite number of parts, some fluid,
and others solid.
3. The small resistance which fluids make to the
force that divides them, their inclination to a level, the
quickness and ease wherewith they move, penetrate,
and separate solids, serve to indicate that they are of all
bodies the most simple, subtle and active.
Fire seems to be a fluid which unites these qualities
in the most eminent degree. It is evident from a num-
ber of experiments, and particularly from those made by
electricity, that fire is a fluid diffused into all bodies, in
various proportions. Sometimes it barely nils their
65
pores ; at others, is intimately united to their constitu-
ent parts, and composes inflammatory matter.
Air and water are likewise contained in the compo-
sition of a prodigious number of matters of different
kinds. Sometimes they seem to change their nature,
and to undergo various transformations ; but these trans-
formations are only imaginary. They resume their
primitive state, as soon as iljte causes which obscured
them cease to act.
4. Pure earth is the base or foundation in the com-
position of solids. The chymist meets with it in every
body he analyses. Being fixed and unalterable, rt will
resist the most violent fire; and this immutability of
elementary earth, by convincing us of the simplicity of
its aature, shews likewise that it is the first step of the
scale of inactive solids.
From a mixture of pure earth with oils, sulphurs,
salts, &c. proceed the various species of more or less
compounded earths, which are the proper nourishment of
one part of organized bodies.
Bitumens and sulphurs, which are chiefly formed of
inflammable matter and earth, seem to lead us from
pure earth to metallic substances, in which we discover
the same essential principles, only differently combined*
The inalterability of gold from the most violent fire,
its malleability, and prodigious ductility, equally prove
the homogeueousness, extreme fineness, and strict union
of its parts.
Other metals are ranged after gold, according to the
order of their composition, or the stronger or weaker
combination of their principles. Platina immediately
follows gold : and silver that. Silver also resists the
action of fire ; but is less malleable and ductile than
gold, and dissoluble by a much greater number of dis-
solvents.
Copper appears after silver, and has a great affinity t&
that metal. It is itself succeded by tin, lead, and iron;
Those compounds which differ from rnetals only by
their not being malleable, bear a great resemblance to-
them, and are- called demi-metals. Such are antimony 9
Ms?nuth, spelter.
Fitriols, produced by the union" of metallic particles
with a coagulated acid, seem to be the passage froiii
metallic substances to salts,
which always affect deierrniimte and ' constant
figures, indicate thereby the invariableness and simplicity
of their principles, whose fundamentals are water and
earth.
When they are dissolved by water, or volatilised by
air, they become one of the principal causes of the
growth of vegetables, as they are of fermentations,
whose effects are so various and extensive,
The regularity and uniformity of the different' kinds
6f crystallization, sufficiently prove that they are to be
attributed t6 salts, which -being dissolved und conveyed
by a liquid, and united to foreign matters* compose
these pyramidal masses.-
Stones, whose species are so numerous, present us with
masses of every form, colour, size, and consistence, ac-
cording to the diversity of liquids, earth, sulphur, me-
tallic parts^ salts, places, and other circumstances
which contributed to their formation.
Some of them are perfectly transparent] and these
seem to be the most simple, Others are more or less
opake, as their principles-are -more or less 'heterogeneous?,
or more -of less- mixed*
5. The apparent organization of leafed stones, or
such as are divided into layers, as slates ; that of fibrous
63"
stones, or those composed of filaments, as the amlan*
thus; seem to constitute the passage from rough .to oi>
ganized solids.
We must however allow, that this transition is not scr
happily effected, as those we observe in divers othejr
classes of terrestrial beings. •:
Organized solids are divided into two general classes ;
vegetable and animal.
It is not easy to determine precisely the distinction
between these two classes. We cannot «learly discern
where the vegetable terminates, or the animal coin-
jnencejt
Neither the greater or less degree of simplicity in or*
ganization, nor the method of production, nourishing,
increasing, and multiplying, nor the locomotive faculty,
sufficiently enables us to distinguish between these twa
orders of beings*
There are some animals whose structure appears as
aioiple as that of plants.
What the seed and germ are to the plant, the egg anc£
embryo are to the animal,
The plant and animal increase in equal proportion by
an insensible expansion occasioned by nutrition.
The matter received in both of them by inward sus-
ception, is there subject to analogous preparations..
One pail serves as a clothing to the essence of the plant
or animal ; the rest is evacuated.
There is in plants as well as animals a distinction of
sexes; and this distinction in them is followed by the
same essential effects that accompany the latter. Seve-
ral kinds of animals multiply by slips and sprigs ; and
there are some, that, like plants, pass their whole lives,
without changing their situation,
68
If there is any one character peculiar to the animal,
it is that of being furnished with nerves.
6. The plant which seems to occupy the lowest place
in the scale of vegetables, is a small unformed mass, in
which the eye can only perceive a kind of marbling,
without any distinct part. This plant is the truffle, the
seeds of which are discovered by the microscope.
At. a small distance from these is the numerous family
of mushrooms and agarics, which would be taken for
different kinds of excrescenses, were it not that the eye,
by the assistance of a glass, can discover flower and
seeds in their folds or cavities.
Liverworts, equal in the number of their species to
nit Brooms, noaiiy resemble them. They cleave to the
surface of stones, dry wood, trees, &c. sometimes like
brown spots, at others in pieces of a circular form, of a
grey or yellow colour, composed of small shells or nobs,
or notched like fringe, lace, &c. The seeds are contain-
ed in small capsules, invisible to the naked eye, as are
likewise the flowers.
Mosses seem to be a species between the mush-
rooms and liverworts; they delight in shade and
moisture, arid cling to various sorts of bodies. The
filaments which issue from them are often of a cotton-
like nature, and bear flower and seeds.
7. Plants are of three very distinct sorts :
The first, which are for the most part of a smalt size,
delicate constitution, inactive, and abounding in hu-
mours, live but a short time ; a year is comnioniy the
term of their life.
The second, which are for the most part of a gigan-
tic size, robuui constitution, hard, and not so full of
humours, live many years, and even for several ages.
The third bear a mean proportion between the first
and second.
69
Her Is are the first, trees the second, and shrubs
the third.
These three kinds, which are spread over the face
of the earth, live promiscuously therein; but there ex-
ists, in the different classes, an almost infinite diversity
of sizes, forms, colours and inclinations.
They all in common pass their lives in a state of im-
moveablenesS. Fixed to the earth by various sorts of
fibres, they derive their principal nourishment from it;
and with them to live is to expand themselves.
$. The roots, stalks, branches, leaves, flowers, and
fruits, comprize all that is most remarkable in the ex-
ternal parts of plants.
The roots, by means of their different kinds of hinges,
tuberosities, and ramifications, keep the plant fixed to
the earth, while their pores imbibe an exceeding fine
slime, which the water liquefies and carries with it.
From the root springs the stalk, to which the plant
partly owes its strength and beauty. Being sometimes
shaped like a pipe, it is fortified with knots skilfully
disposed, As it is sometimes too weak to support it-
self, it contrives means to twist itself about a solid prop,
or to fasten to it by means of the little hands it is fur-
nished with. Otherwise it appears a strong pillar, bears its
proud head aloft in the air, and braves the efforts of
storms and tempests.
The tranches shoot forth, like so many arms, from
the trunk and stalk, on which they are distributed with
great regularity. They are divided and sub-cljvided
into many small boughs, and the sub-divisions observe
the same order as the 'principal divisions.
The leaves, that charming ornament of plants, are
disposed round the stalk and branches with the same
symmetry. Some are simple, others compounded, or
formed of various foliage. One sort is plain, another
70
indented. Some of them are very thin, others
soft, plump, smooth, rough, or hairy.
The flowers, whose enamel is one of the principal
beauties o* nature, are not less diversified than the
leaves: some have only a single leaf; others several;
Here it appears like a large vessel opening itself grace-
fully ; there it forms a grotesque figure in imifation of a
muzzle, head-piece, or cowl. Farther still, it is a but-
terfly, a star, a crowny a radient sun. Some are dis*
persed on the plant without any art ; others compose
nosegays*' globes, tufts of feathers, garlands, pyramids.
The greater part of them are furnished with one or,
more cups, sometimes simple and plain, at others con-
sisting of several pieces.
„ Ffom the centre of the flower proceeds erne or seve-
ral little pillars, either smooth or channelled, rounded at
top, or terminating in a point called pistils, which com*
monly encompass other smaller pillars, called stamina.
These carry on the upper part of them a sort of small
bladders> full of exceeding fine powder, every grain of
which, viewed through a microscope, appears of a very
regular figure, but varied according to his species. Ju
some they are small smooth globes, in others they are
thick set with prickles, like the covering of- a ohesnut ;
and sometimes they resemble small prisms, or some
other regular body.
But how shall we- express their fineness, the lively ap-
pearance, delicacy, and variety cfshadowings which ao
company, in many species of -flowers, the sweetness and
agreeableness of the perfume/?
The flowers are succeeded by the fruits and seeds ;
magnificent decoration •! prescious riches, which repair
the losses occasioned to plants by the intemperate**
jjess of seasons, and the necessities of men and other-
animal? !
'&11 fruiU and seeds have this in common, fhey en-
-close under one or more coverings the gerra of the
future plants. Some l.ave only such coverings as im-
, mediately infold the germ, v.hose outside is of the
strongest contexture; and among these, there are
some that are provided \vilh wings, tufts, or plumes of
feothers, by -means of which they are conveyed in the
air or water, by which ihey are transported and sown
hi different parts. Others are better clothed, being
lodged in sheaths or pods, enclosed in a kind of box,
having one or more partitions. A third sort, under a
most delicious fruit, which is rendered still more -agree-
able by its beautiful colour, contain a stone or kernel.
others are enclosed in shells, which are either armed
\dth prickles, abound with a bitter juice, or adorned
with fine hair.
The outside of fruits and seeds do not afford less
variety than the leaves and flowers ; there is hardly any
figure whatever which they do not furnish a representa-
tion of.
9- The inside of plants' is composed of four orders of
vessels, viz. the Ligneous fires, utriculi, or little lags,
the proper vases, and the trachea, or air vessels.
The ligneous fibres are very small channels deposited
according to the length of the plant, and consist of
little pipes placed near each other. Sometimes these
vessels are parallel, and at others are separated, leaving
between them intervals, or oblong spaces.
These spaces are filled by the utruuli, a kind of
membranous bladders, horizontally disposed, and which
communicate with each other.
The proper vases "are a kind of ligneous fibres which
principally differ from the rest by their juice, which is
of a deeper colour, or thicker.
la the middle of them, or round a great number >of
72
ligneous fibres, are some vessels which are not so nar-
row, composed of a silvery elastic blade, formed spire-
wise, like a spring : these are arteries ; they seldom
contain any thing but air.
These four orders of vessels, which are dispersed
through all the parts of the vegetable, in proportion to
the functions of each, compose, at least in trees and
shrubs, three principal beds, the lark, the wood, and
the pith.
The bark, or rind, which is the outer covering of
plants, and is smooth, even, and shining in some, and
rough, channelled, and hairy in others, is formed of the
widest fibres, that are the least pressed together, and
which admit within them the most air.
The wood, which is placed under the rind, has nar-
rower and more contracted pipes, its utricles less re-
plenished or dilated ; and this only has arteries. ,
The pith, which is situated at the heart of thfe plant,
is little more than a collection of utricles, which are
greater and more capacious than those of the bark
and wood : they diminish and dry up as the plant ad-
vances in age.
The simplicity of the organization of vegetables
is the principal source of their different methods of mul-
tiplication.
A plant pushes out buds from all points of ks sur-
face ; these buds themselves are plants ; being cut and
laid in the ground they take root there, and become en-
tire plants, like that of which they were before only
a part.
The smallest branch or leaf may give birth to such a
whole plant.
Suckers taken from different plants, and ingrafted in
the stalk or branches of another plant, incorporate them
75
selves with it, and being united thereto, form one orga-*
nical body.
10. The timorous sensitive p'ant flies the hand that
approaches her; she closes hijrselt again with the ut-
most speed ; and tn;s motion, bearing so great a resem-
blance to that of animals, seems to constitute one of
those connections whereby the vegetable and animal
kingdoms are united.
A little above the sensative, in a kind of calix, at the
bottom of the water, is a small body, exactly resembling
a flower. It draws back and entirely disappears when
I offer to touch it. It comes out of the calix, and
opens itself on my retiring to a distance from it.
While I was endeavouring in vain to account for this,
I discovered, by the side of it, another body of the
same form, but larger, and not lodged in an inclo-
sure. It was supported by a small stalk, whose lower
extremity joined to a plant, whilst the other, in-
clining towards the ground, was divided into several
little branches.
I immediately believed it to be a parasite plant;
and, in order to be more fully convinced of it, I cut it
in half between its two extremities?.
It soon sprouted out again, and appeared the same as
before. I stood awhile to consider it. I saw the little
branches move, and extend themselves to several inches
in length. They are extremely, fin«, an$ spread them-
selves on all sides.
A little worm came and touched one of these
branches ; it presently twisted itself about the worm,
and by contracting itself, brought it to the upper
extremity of the stalk: there I perceived a small
aperture, which enlarged itself in order to receive the
worm. It was received into a long cavity that encloses
the stalk, being there dissolved and digested before my
eyes : I afterwards saw the remainder go out again at
the same opening.
The next moment this singular production separated
74
Itself from the plant, and began to walk. The 'Branches,
after having performed the office of arms, are likewise
employed by it instead of legs.
After having made these observations, I could not
help acknowledging, that what I took for a parasite
plant was a real animal. I then took a view of the
piece I had cut oft from it, and perceived, to my sur-
prise, that it had grown, arid was become a complete
one like the other.
But my surprise was greatly increased when, at the
end of some weeks, I found these animals were trans--
formed into two small very bushy trees.
From the trunk, which I knew to be the body of the
animal, sprung several branches on all sides of it : from
these brandies smaller ones sprouted forth, and from
those, smaller still : they ail ntove different ways, and
stretch out .their branches, while the trunk continues
fixed to a prop. This surprising assemblage forms only
one entire body; and the nourishment it receives by
one of its parts is successively communicated to all the
rest. In short, this collection of bodies divides itself.;
each piece separates itself from 'the others, and lives
distinctly from them.
Amazed at these wonders,! part one of these animals
length-wise, about the middle of the body, I am pre-
sently in possession of a monster with two heads.
I repeat the operation a great many times on the same
subject, and by this means I give birth to a hydra, more
astonishing than that of Lerna*
I part several of these animals transversely, and lay
the separated pieces end to end; they graft or unite
themselves to each other, and compose only one entire
animal.
To this prodigy I find a new one succeed. I turn one
of these insects, as we do a glove, putting the outside
vathin, and vice versa; he does not surfer the least
alteration from that; he lives, grows, and mutiplies.
These animals, which multiply by slips and shoots,
that we engraft and turu inside oat, are polypus's.
They are of very different species : many of them
75
never shift their place : some divide themselves length-
. wise, and thus make very pretty nosegays, whose flowers
are in clusters.
11. There is a wonderful variety in the construction
of animal machines. There are some whose number of
parts is very small ; others, on the contrary, are very
much compounded. In some there are only two or
three pieces alike, others exhibit to us a much greater
number. In short, the same parts are differently dis-
posed or combined in different machines.
The perfection of the machines in nature consists, as
in those of art, in number of parts and diversity of
effects. That is accounted the most perfect which,
with the smallest number of parts, produces the greatest
variety of effects.
But there is, with respect to ourselves, a considerable
difference between the natural and artificial machines ;
for whereas we may judge of these by an exact
comparison of their strength and produce, we can
only form our opinion of the others by their con-
sequences.
After this manner we are enabled to judge of the
perfection of the human body, from the diversity and
extent of the operations of man, rather than from an
inspection of his organs, of which we have only a par-
tial view. And if corporeal perfection corresponds with
spiritual, as there is reason to believe it does, man, as
he is superior to other animals by understanding, so he
likewise is by organization : whence we may infer, that
those animals, whose structure most nearly resembles
that of men, ought to be considered as the most elevated
in the scale,
12. Of all animals that are known to us, the polypus
is one whose structure seems to be the most simple, and
to come nearest that of plants. This extraordinary ani-
mal seems to consist altogether of stomach. His body
and arms are composed of one and the same bowel,
VOL. IV. E
76
whos,e composition is perfectly uniform. The 'best mi-
croscopes only discover in them an infinite number of
small grains, which are tinged vvilh the nourishment the
animal feeds upon.
Can these grains be so many utricles? Can they re-
ceive the aliment by immediate conduits, prepare it
and transmit it to other vessels appointed to convey it
into the channels of circulation! Is there a circulation
in the polypus ?
The different kinds of vessels which the first conjec-
ture supposes, and which their fineness or transparency
may render invisible to us, must be lodged in the thick
part of the texture of the polypus. We are induced to
think so from the experiment of turning it inside out,
which being effected, does not cause any change in the
•vital functions.
,But of what service can that property be to. the .poly-
pus, which it cannot make use of without the assistance
of man? I mean, the operation of turning, the inside
outwards.
I answer, that this property is one of the conse-
quences of an organization peculiarly necessary to the
polypus. The Author of nature never intended to
create an animal capable of being turned as we do a
glove ; but he designed to form an animal whose ..prin-
cipal viscera were lodged in the thickest part of the
skin, and which had power, jn a veilain degree to escape
various accidents to which the nature of its life unavoid-
ably exposed it. Now, what naturally follows from
this organization is the being enabled to endure this
shifting without occasioning its death.
13. Those animals whose structure appears less
simple than that of the polypus, multiply like him
by sl^js.
These worms have a stomach, intestines, heart, ar-
teries, veins, lungs, and organs of generation. If we
77 . .
look narrowly into the circulation of their blood, we
shall perceive its continuance with the same regularity
in all those parts which have beeu separated from the
jest by cutting.
These worms bring us to treat of insects.
14. Here we are introduced into a kingdom of ani-
mals, the most extensive and diversified of any on the
surface of the globe. That province of this vast empire
which is seen on the surface of vegetables, is sufficient ef
itself to attract the curiosity of a traveller, either from
the prodigious number of its inhabitants, or the singula-
rity and diversity of their forms.
These are pigmies, the greatest part of which are so
minute, as not to be distinctly seen without the help of
a microscope : they bear the general name of insecfa*
and this name was given to them on account of the
incisions of various depths, by which the bodies of se-
veral of them are divided.
i
The . haracter which seems essentially to distinguish:
msects, from other animals is, that they have no bones.
'The analogous parts with which some species of them
are provided are placed on the outside of their bodies,
wliereas in other animals the bones are always ou
the inside.
Life, in insects, docs not result from a mechanism as
compounded as in the animals of a larger size ; in
tht ai the number of different kinds of organs is smaller ;
-but some of these organs seem more multiplied.
Considered in their exterior form, injects may be di-
Tided into two classes. The first comprehends insects
improperly so called, whose bocty is continued : these
bear the general name of worms. The second class
comprelu .ids insects properly so tenned, whose body is
divided by certain incisions or contractions.
E 2
78
In the greater part of insects of this class, the inci-
sions separate the body into three principal parts ; the
head, the stomach, the lelly : this division has a relation
to that observed in great animals. Some of the insects
of the first class are without legs ; others are furnished
with them. All the insects of the second class have
legs ; but some are winged, others not.
There is such a diversity in insects, that it may be
questioned, if there is liot united in them every variety
to be met with throughout the animal world. And
what renders this variety still more surprising, is, that it
does not extend merely to the whole species, but like-
wise to individuals. The same insect has, at one time,
organs that are not to be found in him at another. The
same individual which, in his youth, belonged to the
first class, in a more advanced age, takes up his rank in
the second. From thence arise the difficulties attending
a proper distribution of these little animals.
15. The bodies of almost all insects are formed of a
collection of rings, set in each other ; which, by con-
tracting or dilating, lengthening or shortening, contri-
bute to all the motions of the animal.
The head, in many species, changes its form in an in-
stant. It contracts and dilates itself, lengthens and
shortens, appears and disappears, at the pleasure of the
insect. The flexibility of its folds enables it to make
these motions. In other species, the head is in one
constant position, and bears a greater resemblance to
that of the larger animals, by the hardness of its cover-
ing, which is scaly.
The mouth is sometimes discovered to be a simple
circular aperture : but it is generally furnished with
hooks, or a kind of pick-axe; with teeth, or two indent-
ed shells, which they move horizontally ; with a trunk,
a very compact instrument, which serves to extract and
liquify, and raise up alimentary juice; or with a sting,
79
which is an organ analogous to the trunk, and endued
with the same essential functions.
Several species have two of those instruments united
in them ; sometimes the teeth and the trunk, and some-
times the trunk and the sting. Many species of insects
are deprived of the use of sight. With them the feeling,
or some other sense, supplies the defect of eyes.
The eyes of insects are of two kinds : the smooth
ones are always few in number ; the rough commonly
amount to several thousands, and are fixed on the sides
of the head, in the form of two semicircular masses.
In both of them they are utterly immoveable ; and their
number compensates, in some measure, the want of mo-
bility : it is, therefore, less a mark of perfection than of
imperfection. Many species have, at the same time,
two smooth eyes, and two rough ones.
. Hearing seems to be denied to insects : at least, the
existence of this sense in them, is very doubtful.
The case is not the same with respect to smelling.
Divers insects have it in an exquisite manner ; but the
seat of it is not known. May it not be situate in those
two moveable horns called the antennae, whose use we
are yet unacquainted with ?
The legs of insects are scaly and membranous. Those
are moved by the assistance of divers articulations;
while these, which are more pliable, are turned every
way without difficulty. These two sorts of legs are
often united in the same worm. Some of them have
several hundred legs ; but do not, on that account, walk
faster than such as have only six.
The wings, which are two or four in number, are
sometimes formed of a simple, and more or less trans-
parent, gauze, and sometimes covered with little scales,
differently figured ; in some they are composed of fea-
E 3
80
thexs, as in birds; in others, they are covered,, or en*
closed incases. -In many sgecies, the male is winged^,
smd the femqle not.
On the sides, or extremities of the body, are little
oval apertures, shaped like the ball of the eye, arid sus-
ceptible of the same motions. These are so many
moutns, for the purpose of respiration..
l6. The interior. part of insects contains four princi-
pal viscera; the spinal marrow, the intestinal* bag, the
heart, and, the tracheal arteries.
A blackish thread, which is extended the whole,
length of the belly, from the head to the hinder part,
and knit together at certain distances, is the spinal mar-
row of inserts, or the principal trunk of the nerves.
The knots placed from one space to another, seem so
many particular brains, appointed to distribute the ner-
vous strings to the neighbouring parts ; from the action,
of which the feeling and motion proceed. The first of
these knots constitutes the brain, properly so called.
On the medullary thread is placed the intestinal lag,
which is equal to it in length. It is a long gut, in
which are contained the oesophagus, the stomach, and'
intestines,
Along the bag, and parallel to the iotestin.al bag,
there runs a long and thin vessel, in which may be per-
ceived, through j he skin of the insect, alternate contrac-
tions and, dilatjons. This is the heart, or that part
which performs the functions of it.
The arterial vessels of insects perfectly resemble those
of plants. There is in every part of them the same
structure, colour, elasticity, destination, and dispersion,
through the whole body.
37» Worms, whose bodies are lodged "irt a crusta-
ceans, or stony pipe, seem to constitute ti
fcstween insects ahd shell-fish,
There are, notwithstanding; some shell animals, whose
structure, viih respect to its simplicity, seems to vie
ttith that of the polypus.
Of this -number is the pond muscle, wherein we can
discover neither spinal marrow, arteries, veins, nor'
Rings;
Does the scale of nature branch out as it advances ?
M',\v 5ncoote ciuU shell-flsli be two parallel branches ^of
this great stem ] May the frog arid the lizard, which
bear. so near a resemblance to insects, be a ramification
of them ? We are not able, at present, to answer these
questions.
Such -is the gradation between beings, that they often
differ from each other by slender shadowings ; and such
is the narrowness of our capacities, that none but the
f»lain, and more striking marks; attract our notice.
18. The agreeable diversity in the figures of shells,
helps us to judge of the variety subsisting in the organi-
zation of those animals who are the inhabitants and ar*
chitects of tli em ; Some1 consist of one entire piece ;•
others, of two, or more. Sorne are formed in imitation
of a tntmpet. a screw, a tiara, a dial. Others resemble
a helmet, a club, a spider, a comb. In this, it is a kind
of fleshy case ; in another, it is a ship, wherein the sailor
is, at the same time, rudder, mast, and sail.
Animals that have shells, and insects with scales, seem
to have an affinity to each other by a common charac-
ter; both of them have their bones placed on the out-
side. We may, in effect, consider the shell as the bone
of the animal which occupies it; since he bring, it into
the world- with him, and adheres to it by different
muscles.
But it is certain, most shells are formed of the stony
juice?, which transude from the pores of the animal
The bones, as well as the shells, of insects, grow, ?nd
are nourished, by vessels which pass through their
substance.
E 4T
82
Shell-fish form two great families ; that of the con-
chce, or larger kind, whose shell is made up of two, or
several pieces; and that of snails, whose shell con-
sists of one single piece, turned, for the most part, spi-
rally.
The structure of the first seems much more simple
than that of the last. The conchx have neither head,
horns, nor jaws ; one can uuly obcorvp in them air-vents
a mouth, an anus, and sometimes, a sort of foot. Tiie
greatest part of snails ; on the contrary, have a head,
horns, eyes, a mouth, an anus, and a foot. The round
anci fleshy head is at the anterior, and upper part of the
animal. It contains a brain, composed of two littlt
globes, whose apparatus is of such a rnoveable nature,
that it is transferred from the hinder to the fore part, at
the pleasure of the snail. -The horns, which are two, or
four, in number, placed on the sides of the head, are a
kind of pipes, susceptible of various motions, and which
the animal can draw into his head by the help of a
muscle ; which the Grand Observer has ordained to
perform the functions of the optic nerve. In some spe-
cies of snails, the eyes are placed at the extremity of
the horns, as at the end of the shank of a pair of spec-
tacles. In others, at the base, or towards the middle.
They are black and brilliant ; pretty much resembling
the term of a very small onion. We can only discover
their tunic, which is called the uvea ; but they have the
three humours belonging to our eye. The mouth, which
is commonly a small chink, like a furrow, is furnished,
in many species oi them, with tw© cartilaginous jaws,
placed on each other, whose inequalities, or clefts, per-
form the office of teeth: some species have real teeth,
like those of a sea-clog, which are extremely small.
The shell-fish that have no jaws, have a fleshy, or
muscular pipe, which supplies the place of a snout.
Snails are not provided with feet ; but they have one
foot, of a particular make, which is nothing more than
a collection of a great number of muscles, whose mo-
83
tions imitate those of the waves of the sea, A pretty
thin membrane lines _the inside cf the shell, and some-
times the outside. It is a kind of mantle, furnished
with trachea, or air-vents, which separate the air from .
the water ; at the origin of which are perceived, little
gills, destined to the same uses. The heart, which is
situated near the surface of the body, has a sensible
motion, whereby it raises and falls alternately. In tLe
conchae, it is underneath the stomach.
ip. Animals with shells bear an affinity to iiskes,
Reptiles seem to take place between, or next to them j
being united to shelled animals by the slug, and to the
fishes by the water-serpent.
In reptiles, animal perfection begins to increase in a
sensible manner. The number of their organs, their
conformation and exercise, give them, on this account,
a greater analogy with the mechanism of those animals
w« esteem the most perfect. The organs of vision,
hearing, and circulation, furnish examples sufficient to
indicate this. This analogy is augmented in fishes,
The eel, by its formation, and creeping fishes, by
their method of moving, connect fishes with the water-
serpent.
20. Fish, like reptiles, are for the most part covered
with scales, whose figure, and rich colours, help to make
a distinction between the species.
There is a great variety in the form of fishes. Some
are long and slender ; others are broad and short. We
see among them, flat, cylindrical, triangular, square,
and circular ones. Some are armed with a great horn*
Others wear a. long sword; or a kind of saw. A third
sort are furnished with pipes, through which they throw
out the remainder of the water they have swallowed.
Wings are to birds, of the same use as Jins to fishes.
E 5
Some have iwo, or three ; others have a greater rmm«
ber. The head of fishes,, like that of reptiles, is joined
close to the body. The mouth, vdiich is commonly
furnished with two or more rows of teeth, is sometimes
placed OIL. the back, as are the eyes. The hnigs^. which
are formed of several blades, or vascular leaves, are
eften placed at the surface of the body. They are
known by the name of gills. But, let us avoid ana-
tomical descriptions, which would cany us too far*.
We shall now confine ourselves to some of the principal:
varieties, and to the sources or those relations that are:
more striking.
21. I see the flying-fish dart itself into the air from
the bottom of the water, having fins resembling the
wings of a bat Herein it has an affinity to birds^ But
I see a great animal advancing towards the sea-shore,
having a head and fore-part like a lion, and the hind -
part resembling that of a fish. It has- no scales ; and is
borne on two paws, that have toes with fins to them.
Tis called the sea-lion. He is followed by the sea- calf]
and the hippopotamus, or sea-horse, and by ali, in ge-
neral, of the cetaceous kind. The crocodile and tortoise
present themselves to my view in their turn * and I now
find myself among quadrupeds; Without presuming
to account for the ways of nature, we will, at present,*
place birds between fishes, ami four-footed animals..
Jn this order,, aquatic birds are ranged immediately
under the flying-fish. Amphibious birds, or such as
Jiye both on land, and in the water, will occupy the
scale next in course; and, by this means, open a com-
munication between the terrestrial, aquatic, and aerial
regions.
To this new mansion there is added a new decora-
tion. To scales succeed feathers, which are closer
compacted, and ; more varied: a bill takes place of
teeth ; wings and feet are to them instead of fins; lungs
formed within, and a different structure, cause the gills
Jo disappear: a melodious song follows a profound •&!»
3
$5
lence, Between the corme-rant and sufallow, the par-
fridge and vulture, tlie kumming-lird and ostrich, the
OH;/ and peacock, the raven arid nightingale, what a
surprising variety is there of structure, proportion,
colour, and song !
22. Hairy birds having projecting ears, a mouth fur-
ui.slu'd with teeth, and whose body is carried on four
paws, urined with claws, are they birds in reality? Are
quadrupeds, that fly by the assistance of crreat membra-
neous wings, really such? The bat and flying-squirrel
are these strange animals, which are so proper for estab-
lishing the gradation that subsists between all the pro-
ductions of nature. The ostrich, with the feet of a
goat, which rather runs than flies, seems to be another
link which unites birds to quadrupeds.
The class of quadrupeds is not inferior in variety to
that of birds. Those are two perspectives of a differ-
ent taste, but which have some analogous points of
view. Carnivorous quadrupeds answer to birds of prey.
Quadrupeds that live on herbs, -or seeds, answer to birds
that feed on the same kind of aliment. The screech-
owl among"- birds is the same as the cat among four-
footed animals. Tire leaver seems answerable to the
(mck. Quadrupeds may be divided into two principal
classes. The first comprehends quadrupeds with a solid'
foot; the second comprises quadrupeds whose feet are
furnished with claws, or toes. Amongst quadrupeds of
the first class, from the stag to the hog, and those of
the second, from the lio?i to the ?nouse, what a diversity
of models, sizes, and motions, do we observe !
By what degrees does nature raise herself up to
man?
How will she rectify this head, that is always inclined
towards the earth? How change these paws into flexi-
ble arms! What method will she make use of to trans-
form these crooked feet into suple and skilful hands 1
E 6
86
Or, how will she tiriden and extend this contracted sto-
mach 1 In what manner will she place the breasts, and
give them a roundness suitable to them!
The ape is this rough draught of man ; this rude
sketch ; an imperfect representation; which, nevertheless,
bears a resemblance to him, and is the last creature that
serves to display the admirable progression of the works
of God!
87
CHAP. IV-.
Continuation of the gradual Progression of Beings.
1. X HE relations which the plant bears to those
beings that surround it, and from whence it derives its
subsistence, are purely corporeal, or comprehended en-
tirely within the sphere of the properties of bodies.
The animal, which is more excellent, is allied to nature
by other connections, and by such as are of a more ex-
alted kind. Like the plant, it vegetates; like her, it
receives that nourishment from without, which promotes
the growth of it ; and, like her, it multiplies. But, to
those different actions, are superadded/ee/f«g, or the
perception of what passes within him. This sense of
feeling is connected with several others, which are pro-
duced various ways; and they are -all accompanied either
with pleasure or pain.
Agreeable sensations inform the animal of the rela-
tions which certain bodies have to its preservation or
welfare : disagreeable, or painful sensations, advertise
him of qualities which are hurtful. He is then the cen-
tre to which divers objects are directed; he draws near
some, and keeps at a distance from others. The nerves,
or that cluster of small fibres which extend -themselves
from the brain to ail parts, like small cords, constitute
the immediate organ of feeling.
2. Does spiritual perfection always answer to corpo-
real, m animals ?V If this be true, how comes it to pass,
that the simple S&rick appears inferior, in point of urs-
del-standing, to tlte lion pismire, \vlucii is placed SO
much beneath it in respect Ho structure!
liet us not mistake. The marks of understanding
exhibited to us, in some insects, are surprising ; inas-
much, as \ve do not expect to meet with them iu those
animals we scarce think capable of feeling : our imagi-
nation is warmed, and we ascribe to those insects more
genius than they really have.
On tlie contrary, we form high expectations from
larger animals ; so that we are very apt to degrade them,
as soon as we perceive they fall beneath the idea we en-
tertained of them. There are some, however, whose
mind does not display* itself by striking marks, but by
a great number of less sensible ones; .which,, being
united, form a degree of understanding superior to that
of the most industrious- insect. Such, without doubt,
would appear to be the case of the ostrich* were she
better observed : we reproach her with indifference to-
wards her eggs i It is affirmed, li^at she leaves the care
of hatching then* to the sun. This reproach is turned
into a commendation with regard to t • e ostriches of
Senegal ; since an exact observer has bee 'owed on them
the attention they require. In these scorching climates,
the sun sufficiently heats, in the day-time, an. ostrich's
eggs,, that'- a re iiid-- in the- sand 5 the warmth of the- mo-
ther would be then unnecessaiy, or even hurtful to
them : s..e would keep the sun front them, whose rays
are more active and efficacious. But the nighrs in Se-
negal are very cool, and the eggs would be in danger of
growing cold j then the mother never fails to procure
them heat, by sitting, upon them during that tune.
At the Cape of Good-Hope, where it is not so hot as
at Senegal, the ostrich sits night and day, like other1
birds-. The young ones peck in a itw hours' after they
are hatched;* butlhey ate 'not able to walk till several
days afterwards : llie clam takes care t^plaee near them
such food as is proper for them.
Lastly, it is to be remarll)^. tliat (here is a kind o?
society among large animals ; tul?r memory retains faith»
fully a certain number of signs and sounds-. Their soul
is affected by a variety of perceptions : sight and hear-
ing alone furnish an abundant source to them. Insects
afford us but very imperfect images of this. ' The lion
pismire iVignorant of every tiling but the snare he has
laid, and the prey he expects in consequence of it : his
eyes, .uhich are motionless and unmeaning, differ widely
from ours; nor is he affected by any sound-
3. Those are, undoubtedly, the most perfect animals*
whose sphere of understanding extends to the greatest
number of objects. These are various in their opera-
tions, can shift about, and compass their ends by differ-
ent ways.
The polypus only knows how to lengthen and contract
his arms : the spider spreads a net with a geometrical
regularity: the falcon and dog pursue their prey with
sagacity: the ape presumes to imitate man.
Has God created as many species of souls as of ani-
mals 1 Or, is there onl\ one species of soul in animals,
differently modified; according to the diversity of or-
ganization 1 This question is absolutely impenetrable
by us. All we can say concerning it is this: if GOD,
who has always acted by the most simple means, has
thought; proper to vary the spiritual perfection of ani-
mals, merely by organization, his WISDOM has^so or-
dained it.
4. At the summit of the scale of our globe is placed
man, the master-piece of the earthly creation.
Not to dwell on the excellent construction of Ms
bpdy, let us consider man as an ,inle!ii-^tm b. ingi Man
is endued with? rca»ou ; he lias ideas; he, compares these
90
ideas together ; judges of their relations or oppositions ;
and acts in consequence of this judgment. He alone,
of all animals, enjoys the gift of speech ; he clothes his
ideas with such signs as he thinks proper $ and, by this
admirable prerogative, he forms a connection between
them, which renders his imagination and memory an in-
estimable fund of knowledge. By this means, man
communicates his thoughts, and brings all his faculties
to a state of perfection ; by this he attains to all arts
and sciences ; and by means of this, all nature is subject
to him.
Sometimes, with a strong and harmonious voice, he
celebrates, in a poem, the virtues of a hero : at others,
by a stroke of the pencil, he changes a dull canvass into
a charming perspective. Here we see him, with the
chissel and graver in his hand, animating the marble,
and giving life to brass : there, with the plummet and
square, erecting a magnificent palace. Now we behold
him, by a microscope of his own invention, discovering
new worlds amidst invisible atoms ; or penetrating the
secret exercise and motion of a particular organ : at
other times, by changing this microscope into a tele-
scope, he pierces into the heavens, and contemplates
Saturn and his moons. Returning home, he prescribes
laws to the celestial bodies ; describes their paths ; mea-
sures the earth; and weighs the sun : afterwards, he
dives into the nature of beings ; examines their rela-
tions, and the admirable harmony resulting from them ;
and, by an attentive view of their various perfections,
he sees an immense chain formed, comprehending the
vhole.
In another station, man is occupied in such arts as
contribute to the supply of his necessities or conveni-
encies : his reason condescends to every thing. The
earth, cultivated by his care, teems every year with new
productions : hemp <«nd flax divest themselves of their
bark to furnish him with clothing. The sheep aban-
dons, for his use, his rich fleece; and the silk-worm
91 '
spins, for him, her precious wool. The yielding metal
is moulded in his hands : the stone softens in his ringers.
The largest and strongest trees fall at his feet ; and re-
ceive from him a new being. All the animals are sub-
ject to his laws; even the fiercest of them insult not his
crown with impunity : he makes some serve for food ;
others he harnesses to his chariot ; and others he con-
demns to till his land : many of them he appoints to
uc iiia porters, hunu»re, guu.rrl«, tmd musicians. In short,
man ploughs his adventurous way across the vast ocean,
and, by navigation, unites the two extremities of the
globe.
5. The EXCELLENCE of human reason shines
likewise with a new lustre, from the establishment
of societies. In them, virtue, honour, fear, and in-
terest, variously employed or combined, prove the
source of peace, happiness, and order. All the indivi-
duals, being mutually interwoven together, move in a
regular and harmonious manner. Under tire sanction
of the laws, the king, prince, and magistrate, by exer-
cising a lawful authority, promote virtue, suppress vice,
and spread around them the happiest effects of their ad-
ministration. In society, as in a pure and fertile climate,
talents of different kinds spring up and unfold them-
selves. From that, the mechanical and liberal arts
flourish. Lastly, society perfects friendship, that faith-
ful companion of life, which administers consolation in
our sufferings, and gives a relish to our pleasures.
6. The last mark of the greatness of inao, and of his
high exaltation above other animals, is the commerce he
has with his CREATOR by religion.
Wrapped in the thickest darkness, the rest of the ani-
mal creation are ignorant of the HAND that formed
them. They enjoy an existence, but cannot trace the
AUTHOR of life. Man alone soars to GOD the PRIN-
CIPLE, and prostrate at the foot of the throne of the
ALMIGHTY, adores with the profouudest veneration,
and with the most lively gratitude, the INEFFA2LE
GOODNESS that created him.
In consequence of those eminent faculties wherewith
man is enriched, GOD condescends to reveal himself to
liirn, and to lead him as it were by Hie hand in tiie paths1
of happiness. The various laws he has received from
Hie SUPREME WISDOM, are so many lights placed at
proper distances on his road, to guide him from time to
eternity.
Enlightened by this ^ELEsTlAli GUIDE, man ad-
vances in the glorious- race that is set before him, and:
seizes the crown of life, and adonis with it his immortal-
brow.
7. Such is man in the highest degree of earthly per-
fection. But mankind have their gradations, as well as
the other productions of our globe. There is a prodi-
gious number of continued links between the most per-
fect man and the ape.
If you take a survey of all nations of the earth; i£
you consider the inhabitants of the same kingdom, pro-
vince, city, or town ; nay, do but examine with atten-
tion the members of the same family, and you \vill ima-
gine you see as many specks of men as you discern indi-
viduals-*
To the Lapland dwarf, let the giant of Madagascar
succeed. Let the flat-faced African, with his black com-
plexion and woolly hair, give place to the European,,
whose regular features are set off by die whiteness of
his complexion and beauty of his hair. To the filth i-
nessofa Hottentot, oppose -the neatness of a Dutch-
man. From the cruel Anthropophagite pass to the hu-
mane Frenchman. Place the stupid Hurori opposite
the profound Englishman. Ascend ftom the Scotch pea-r
sant to the great NEWTON. Descend from the harmony
of HANDEL to the rustic songs of the shepherd. P»it
la .the same scale the locksmith constructing a jack; ami
93
YAUCANSoN forming his automations. Reckon up tlir
number of steps from the smith that causes the anvil io
groan, to REAUMUR anatomizing iire.
Do these varieties arise from any real difference
is between human souls, independently on tlie organiza-*
tion of the body ?
We shall iif't think so, if we pay a due attention to*
health, and sickness, to constitution and manner, of liv-
ing, to climate, and education.
You may perceive what a multitude of consequences-
a mathematician derives from a very simple principle :
place this same principle in the hands of a man of the
lower class, it will remain barren, and not be produc-
tive of the smallest truth.
May not the number of just consequences which dif-
ferent minds deduce from the same principle, serve as a
foundation for constructing a psychometer upon ; and;
may we not presume that one time or other we shall be
enabled to measure spirits as we now do bodies ?
But the scale of the creation does not terminate at
man. Another universe commences there, whose extent,
perhaps, compared to that of this-, is as the space of the
solar vortex to the capacity of a nut.
There shine the CELESTIAL HIERARCHIES, like
glittering STARS;
There from all .parts the angels, archangels, seraphim,
cherubim, thrones, virtues, principalities, domini&ns^
powers, cast forth their radiant beams.
In tire centre of these august spheres, shines gloriously
the SUN OF RIGHTEOUSNESS, the EAST above, whence
all the other stars borrow their light and splendor.
Ye planetary worlds ! celestial hierarchies ! you sink
into annihilation hi the presence of the LOUD : your
existence is by KIM: HE is THAT HE is: HE alone
possesses the plenitude of being : you enjoy but the re-
ikction of it. Your perfections are streams; the -|#-»-
94
FINITELY PERFECT BEING is an ocean, an abyss, which
the cherubim presume not to look into.
If we enjoy a very sensible pleasure on seeing col-
lected, in one place, the principal productions of nature,
how great must tlie exstasy of celestial spirits be, when
they survey those worlds which God has thick sown in
the vast expanse, and when they contemplate the im-
mensity of his works !
O ! "the delightful employment those superior intelli-
gences are exercised in, when they compare the differ-
ent economies of these worlds, and weigh in the balance
of reason each of these globes !
But all celestial intelligence, doubtless enjoy not these
advantages in the same degree. There may be some
perhaps to whom is granted the knowledge of one
world only : others may know several ; others a much
greater number.
How immense must that MIND be, which beholds
with a single glance the sum of all beings, and which by
fathoming the spirits of all orbs, discerns in an instant,
and without confusion, the result of all the ideas that
bave* do now, arid will hereafter occupy them?
Ye inhabitants of the earth, who have received rea-
son sufficient to convince you of the existence of these
worlds, wui you for ever be denied entrance into them?
Will the INFINITELY GOOD BEING, who r.hews them
to you at a distance, always refuse you a innttance into
them ? No ; since you are called to reside ere long
among celestial hierarchies, you will like them fly from
planet to planet : you will eternally advance from per-
fection to perfection, and ev< .-. / ^stant of your dura-
tion will be distinguished In kh« acquisition of farther
degrees of knowledge. Whatever has been with-held
from your terrestrial perfection, you will obtam under
this economy of glory : you will know even as you are
known.
Man is sown corruptible; he will rise incorruptille and
glorious : these are the words oi" the apostle aiid philo-
95
sopher: the covering of the seed perishes; the germ
subsists, and assures man of immortality.
Man therefore Fsnot in himself what he appears to be.
What we discover of him here below is only the gross
foldage under which he crawls on the earth, and which
he must shortly cast off.
The Irain is a small organical machine, destined to re-
ceive the impressions made on the different parts of the
body, and to transmit them to the soul. It is by means
of this that the soul acts on various points of the body,
and adheres to nature.
The* extremities of all the nerves, radiate to the seat
of the soul : it is in some measure the centre of this ad-
mirable collection, thtj threads of which are so numer-
ous, fine, delicate, and full of motion.
But the nerves are not stretched like the strings of an
instrument of music. Animals that are entirely glutin-
ous, are notwithstanding very sensible.
We then admit there is a fluid in the nerves, whose
subtilty prevents our seeing it ; and which serves both
for the propagation of sensible impressions, and muscu-
lar motion.
The instantaneousness of this propagation, and some
other phenomena, indicate that there is a certain ana-
logy between the nervous fluid and fire or light.
We know that all bodies are impregnated by fire. It
abounds in aliment. It is extracted from it by the
brain, from whence it passes into the nerves.
The seat of the soul, the immediate organ of feeling
and thought, can be no other than a composition of this
vital fire. Tiie brain which we see ami feel, must
therefore only be the case or covering of the ethereal
machine, which constitutes the real seat of the soul.
It may indeed be the germ of that spiritual and glo-
rious body, which REVELATION opposes to the animal
and vile.
The resurrection, then, will only consist in a prodi-
giously rapid unfolding of this germ, which lies hid in
the brain.
90
These senses are the foundation of those relations
vhich the anirnaMjody bears to terrestrial bodies. The
seat of (he sou!, or the little ethereal machine that con-
stitutes it, has parts corresponding with the grosser
senses, since it receives motions from thence, and trans-
mits them to the soul. These parts, by the opening of
the germ, will acquire a degree or perfection incom-
patible with the present staie or man. But this germ
may like wise contain vuthin it new senses, which will
disclose themselves at the same instant, and by mut'ti-
plyiwg in an almost infinite degree the relations of
man to the universe, will a ;^raudize his sphere, and
render it equal to that of -superior intelligences.
An organized b<.dy, for^d of element? analogous to
those of light, will, we may reasonably suppose, stand
in need of no repair. The spiritual body will preserve
itself by the mere energy of its mechanism.
And if light or etluer do not gravitate at all, man in
a glorified state will be enabled to transport himself
at pleasure into every point of space, and viil fly from
planet to planet, with the swiftness of li^^iug.
The senses, as they will then be brought into subjec-
tion to the soul, will :io longer rr,!e over her. Sepa-
rated for evei from Jit sh and blood, there will remain in
her none of those earthly affections which resulted from
them. Transported into the regions of light, the hu-
man understanding \vill present no ideas to the. will but
those of the highest good. It will then have no other
than lawful desires, and God will be their constant and
•ultimate end. It will love him from gratitude ; fear
him from a principle of lo^e ; cind will adore him as
the SUPREMLY AMIABLE BgiNG, and as the eternal
source of life, perfection, and happiness.
CHAP. V.
*Bfthe various Relations of Terrestrial Being*.
1 . VV E have seen, that all is relation in the universe*
but we have only hitherto taken a distant view of this
•fruitful truth. We may now approach nearer to it, and
bestow our attention on the most interesting particulars.
The union of souls -to organized bodies, is the source
*>f the most abundant and most wonderful harmony that
exists in nature. A substance without extension, soli-
dity, and form, is united to an extended, solid, and
formed substance/ A substance that thinks, and which
lias a principle of action in it, is united to a substance
void of thought and purely passive. From this surpris-
ing connection there springs a reciprocal commerce be-
tween the, two substances : a kind of action and re-action,
which constitutes the life af organized animated beings.
The nerves, being .variously agitated by objects, commu-
nicate their motions to the brain, and to these impulses
the .perceptions in the soul correspond, which are totally
-distinct from the cause that occasions them.
The rays which proceed from an object strike my op-
tic nerve, I have a perception that points out to me the
presence of the object. They affect this nerve in a vio-
lent manner : I have a sensation which I express by the
term of pain.
The diversity of senses by which the soul receives the
.impression of objects, produces a diversity in her per-
ceptions and sensations. The sentiments occasioned by
the motion of the nerves of sight, differ absolutely from ,
those that are produced by that of the nerves of hear-
98
ing. The sense of feeling has no likeness to that of
taste. These are different modifications of the soul,
which correspond to different qualities of the objects.
But how can the nerves, which do not seem suscepti-
ble of a greater or less degree of bulk, length, compo-
sition, or tension, or of quicker or slower vibrations, oc-
casion in the soul such a prodigious variety of percep-
tions as we experience ? Is there such a relation between
the soul and the machine to which it is united, as for
certain perceptions to correspond continually with the
nerves of a determinate size, sructure, and tension ? Are
there nerves appropriated to different corpuscles, to the
impression whereof various perceptions are attached ?
Are the pyramidial form of the papilla of the taste and
feeling, the winding cavities of the ear, the different
refrangibilities of the rays of light, so many proofs of the
truth of this? Be that as it may, we are sufficiently con-
vinced that the same sensible fibre is not liable at
one, and the same time to a multitude of different im-
pressions. But this fibre is not only destined to
transmit to the soul the impression of the object; it
must also preserve the remembrance of it ; for a thou-
sand instances prove that the memory is connected with
the bram : how then can it be imagined that the same
fibre should at once retain a multitude of different de-
terminations 9 Nay, how can two such different sub-
stances as the soul and body act reciprocally on each
other ? At this question let us humbly cast our eyes
downwards, and acknowledge this is one of the great
mysteries of the creation, which we are not permitted to
be acquainted with. The various attempts that have
been made by the most profound philosophers, to ex-
plain it, are so many monuments raised to convince us
both of the extent and weakness of the human mind.
2. The soul, being modified by impressions more or
less strong, re-acts in her turn on the nervous system,
maintains the motions there, and renders them more
active or durable. From thence arise the passions,
those secret inclinations, those restless appetites, which
destroy the equilibrium of the soul, and impel her to-
99
wards certain objects. These are admirable instjni-
inents set to work by the wise AUTHOR of our nature,
which, like favourable winds, cause the animated ma-
chines to float on the ocean of sensible objects !
The re-action of the soul on the nervous system, seems
also to be the principal source of divers sensations we
experience, several of which come under the denomina-
tion of instinct or moral sense.
Objects do not strike immediately on the soul : she
only receives impressions by interposed mediums ; the
senses are the mediums. The action of objects then is
modified by them in a determinate relation to nature,
or to the constitution of each medium. The aptness,
either greater or less, wherewith sensible fibres yield
to impressions from without, transmit them to the
soul, and renew the remembrance of them there, to-
gether with the quality and abundance of the hu-
mours constitutes the temper. In amimals, temper go-
verns all : in man, reason regulates the temper ,* and
the temper, when under due regulation, facilitates, in
its turn, the exercise of reason.
The passions receive nourishment, grow, and become
strong, like the fibres which are the seat of them.
Learn then your temper ; if it be vicious you are to cor-
rect it, not to destroy it ; for you would thereby de-
stroy the machine itself; but skilfully to divert its
course, and carefully to avoid every thing that may con-
tribute to add new strength to it, and swell the waters
of such a dangerous torrent.
3. The senses are not only intended to raise in the
soul perceptions of every kind, they likewise revive me-
mory in her. A perception which is present to the me-
mory does not essentially differ from that which the ob-
ject excites. This produces perception by means of
sensible fibres appropriated to it, and on which its
action is displayed. The recollection of perception then
depends on a motion which operates in these fibres, in-
VOL, iv. F
100
tkpendently of the object : for whether the organ re-
ceives its motion from intestine causes, or from tM ob-
ject, the effect is the same with regard to the soul, and
perception is instantly present to her.
Experience proves, that if any series of perceptions
whatever affects the brain for a certain time, it thereby
contracts a habit of re-producing it in the same order.
It is likewise certain, that this habit appertains to the
brain, and not to the soul : a burning fever, a ray of
the sun, or a violent commotion may destroy it, and
such causes influence only the machine.
All perceptions derive their origin from the senses,
and the senses transmit to the seat of the soul the im-
pressions they receivt from objects. But objects act
on the organ by impulsion only : they impress then
certain motions on the sensible fibres* So that a per-
ception, or a certain series of perceptions, are connected
with one or divers motions which operate successively
on different fibres.
And since the reiteration of the same motions, on the
same fibres, effects in them an habitual disposition to
produce them afresh in a constant order, we may infer
from thence that the sensible fibres are so constructed
as to produce in them changes or determinations more
or .ess durable, which constitute the precious ground-
work of the memory aLd imagination.
But the sensible fibres are nourished like all the other
parts of the body : they assimilate or incorporate with
themselves alimentary matter: they grow, and whilst
they receive nour>«!irnent, they continue to perform their
proper functions. So that nutrition conduces to pre-
serve to the fibres these determinations, and causes them
to take root there ; for as the fibres increase, they ac-
quire a gj eater degree of consistence. We may hence
discover the crigin of custom, that powerful queen of
the s^nsi.;le an • iiiiti-i^cnt world. The memory, by
..preM • recalling to the -soul the signs of per-
<:*-. • , by assuring ».er of the identity ot the percep-
tions recalled; ta.d of those which have already alfccted
101
connecting present perceptions with the n.nf.-ce-
dent ones, forms -in the brain a fund of knovyledge,
which increases in richness every clay.
The imagination, being infinitely superior to a Mi-
chael Angelo or a Raphael, delineates in the soul a
faithful image of objects ; and from -divers representa-
tions which it composes, forms in the brain a cabinet of
pictures, every part of which moves, and is combined
with an inexpressible variety and swiftness.
The brain of man, then, may be considered as so
many mirrors, wherein different portions of the universe
are painted in miniature : some of these mirrors ex-
hibit but a small number of objects; while others repre- .
sent almost the whole of nature. What is the relation
between the mirror of the mole and that of a Newton I
What images were there in the brain of a' Homer, a
Virgil, or a Milton ? What mechanism must that have
been which could execute such -wonderful decorations!
That mind which could have read the brain of a Homer
would have there seen the Iliad represented by the va-
rious exercise of a million of fibres.
4. Of all the senses, the sight is that which furnishes
the soul with the quickest, most extensive, and most
varied perceptions : it is the fertile source of the richest
treasures of imagination, and it is to that principally that
the soul owes the ideas of beauty, and that varied unity
which ravishes it.
But by what secret mechanism are -my eyes made
capable of communicating to me such lively, varied,
and abundant perceptions 1 How do I discover, with
so much ease and quickness, every object that sur-
rounds me 1
Three humours of different density, each lodged in a
transparent capsule, divide the inside of the globe of the
eye into three parts. On the bottom is spread a kind
of cloth, or very fine membrane, which is only the ex-
pansion of a nerve, whose extremity terminates i
F2
103
diately at the brain. A black skin lines the whole in-
side of the globe : at the fore part of it is ?• round
orifice, which contracts or dilates itself according as the
light is more or less strong. Six muscles, which are
placed on the outside of the globe, move different ways,
and the rapidity of those motions is excessive.
What need is there of these humours, this cloth,
this tapestry, this aperture which contracts and dilates
itself? The light comes to us from the SUD, in a light
line ; but these rays become crooked, when the density
of the mediums through which they pass increases or di-
minishes : this is called the refraction of light.
To the property of refracting light, joins that of re-
flecting from the body it enlightens. There issue then
luminous streaks from all points of the objects, which
bear the image of these points.
The humours of the eye are the lens of the camera
obscura : the cloth, or retina, are the pasteboard : the
black skin which hangs within the ball performs the
office of a shutter that excludes the light; it extin-
guishes the rays whose reflection would render the
image less distinct ; the loll, by contracting or dilating
itself in proportion to the strength of the light, mo-
derates the action of the rays on the retina : the nerve,
placed behind this, communicates to the brain the
various concussions it receives, to which divers percep-
tions correspond.
5. Such are the admirable relations which WISDOM
has placed between our eyes and the light; those which it
has established between light and the surfaces of differ-
ent bodies, whence colours proceed, are not less worthy
our attention.
A- ray which falls en a glass prism, divides into seve-
ral principal rays, each of which bear its proper colour.
The oblong image which this refraction produces,
affords several coloured stripes, distributed in a regular
order : the first, reckoning from the upper part of the
image, is red, the second orange, the third yellow, the
fourth green f the fifth blue, the sixth indigo, the
103
seventh violet. These stripes do not glare ; but the
eye passes from one to the other by gradations or
shades.
The rays which bear the highest colours, as the red,
orange, and yellow, are those that refract or curve the
least in the prism. They are also such as reflect the
first on inclining the instrument.
From thence it follows, that each ray has its fixt de-
gree of refrangilillty. Make one of these rays pass
through several prisms at the same time, it will afford you
no new colours ; but it will constantly retain its primi-
tive colour, which is ail invincible proof of its immuta.-
lility. Present a lens to seven rays divided by the
prisrn, you will reunite them into a single ray, which
will afford you a round image of a shining white. Take
only five or six of these rays with the lens, you will
have but a dusky white. Only reunite two rays, you
will make a colour that will partake of both. A stream
of light then is a cluster of seven rays, whose reunion
forms white, and the division of which produces seven
principal and immoveable colours !
What is now the source of that infinite diversity of
colours, which embellishes every part of our abode?
The particles whtclf compose the surface of bodies, are
so many liUle prisms, variously inclined, which break
the light, and reflect different colours. Gold, divided
into very thin plates, appears blue when opposed to
broad day-light. The greater or less thickness of the
plates contributes then to the diversity of colours.
Whence proceeds that beautiful azure which tinges the
canopy of heaven ? The ground of the heavens is black :
this ground viewed through the body of air which sur-
rounds us, must appear blue to us. Whence proceeds
this "smiling verdure which adorns our fields? The
lamellae of <he surface of plants are disposed in such a
manner, that they remit only green rays, whilst they
afford a free passage to others. If green pleases our
sight, it is bi ' aus it hoKls precisely a medium between
th; -'.-ven principal colours. -But who can remain1 in-
, sensible of the cave which NATURE has taken to depart
104
from uniformity in this case, by multiplying in so great
a degree1 the shades of green 7 You admire this magni-
ficent rainbow, which delineates at large to you the
colours'of the prism: the beauty and vivacity of its
shades ravish you : you suspect that nature 'must have
been at a vast expence to compose this rich girdle ;
some drops of water, on v, inch the light breaks and
reflects in different angles, are the sole cause of it.
You are struck with the splendid gilding of some in-
sects; the rich scales of fishes attract your notice; NA-
TURE, who is always magnificent in design and frugal
in execution, produces these brilliant decorations at a
small charge: sLe only applies a brown thin skin on
a whitish substance ; this skin performs the office of
varnish to our gilded skins, it modifies the rays which
issue from the substance it covers. The glossy green
of the leaves of plants is owing to the same art.
They owe their lustre and shades to a fine, smooth,
transparent, glossy, and whitish membrane, which clothes
a substance that is always of a rough green, and of a
stronger or fainter dye. It is this green, modified by
this membrane, which constitutes the colour peculiar to
leaves of every species.
It is apparently the same with regard to the enam-
elling of flowers, and perhaps likewise to the colouring
of fruits. This is a new branch of optics, which, were
it dived into as it deserves, might be attended with
some interesting consequences.
The direct light of the sun, or that of the day only,
tinges the leaves as it colours that of fruits. Leaves,
whilst they are inclosed within the bud, are whitish or
yellowish. They preserve this colour, if obliged to grow
in a tube of blue paper, where the air and heat may
have free access. The plant then stars, as the garden-
ers term it, sending forth an excessively long and slender
stalk, and the leaves unfold themselves but very im-
perfectly. The light is in a continual and veiy rapid
motion; it acts perpetually on the surface of bodies,
which it penetrates more or less. By its small reiterated
strokes on leaves, it modifies the surface of them by
105
little and little, and insensibly disposes it to reflect
the green colour.
Colours then in objects are only a certain disposition
of parts totally distinct from the perceptions which they
cause in the soul. It is the same with respect to all our
perceptions and sensations. The senses, by representing
to us bodies under different appearances, shew us the
various qualities ; and to these qualities different ideas
in the soul correspond. We conclude from hence, that
the same objects do not affect all sensible beings in an
equal manner. It i* even doubtful whether two indivi-
duals of the same species have precisely the same per-
ceptions in presence of the same- object.
Were we to contemplate the world by the organs of
all those sensible beings which inhabit it, we should
perhaps see as many worlds as we should employ
glasses. What difference would there appear in the
nuil berry-tree, examined through the organs of a silk-
worm, from our conception of ,it ! What diversity be-
tween the stamina viewed through the eyes of bees,
and those which the botanist observes ! How extern
sive would be the knowledge of that being who could
be acquainted with all these different impressions !
6. Fire, which is dispersed through all nature, offers
to us an infinity of properties ; let us confine our-
selves to give an account of the most interesting.
Fire, being subtle, elastic, and continually agitated,
penetrates all bodies; it warms, dilates, burns, melts,
calcines, vitrifies, volatilizes, and dissipates them, ac-
cording to the nature of their composition or princi-
ples. This subtle element becomes visible only by
borrowing a body : it secretly unites itself to an in-
flammable and unknown substance, and provided with
this body, unites itself to other bodies, and enters into
their composition. It is by means of the same union
that it becomes sensible in electrical experiments, some-
times in the form of luminous tuO, sometimes in that of
F4
106
crowns, flashes, sparks, and that it fulminates, bursts,
strikes, pierces, bums, inflames.
By a gentle agitation, fire enlivens all organized
bodies, and conducts them by degrees to their perfect
growth. It foments the branch in the bud, the plant
in the grain, the embryo in the egg : it gives suitable
preparations to our food ; it subdues metals t© our
use, over the formation of which it precides. By
that we are enabled to give matter all those forms
which our necessities or conveniences require. To
that we are indebted, in a particular manner, for that
transparent matter, which being stretched out into thin
leaves, or fashioned like tubes, vases, globes, lenses,
furnishes us with various instruments, and enriches us
with new eyes, which help us to discover the smallest
objects, and bring nigh to us the most remote.
From the action of fire on. earth, sulphur, oils, and
salts, the various species of fermentations and mixtures
result, which are the objects of the researches of the
chymist, and the soul of the three kingdoms. Being
concentered by lenses or mirrors of every kind, it ac-
quires a strength greatly superior to that of the hottest
of our actual fires, and in an instant reduces green
wood to ashes, calcines stones, melts and vitrifies
metals.
Being excited, collected, condensed, modified, ex-
tracted, directed, and applied by electrical machines, it
becomes the fruitful source of a thousand phenomena,
which art diversifies every day. Sometimes, when ex-
tracted from a globe of glass, it runs with an incon-
ceivable rapidity along an iron wire, and causes light
bodies, placed at a league distance from the globe, to
feel the impression of it. Applied by the same means
to paralytic limbs, it restores life and motion to them*
Being present in all parts of the atmosphere, it co^
lects itself in stormy clouds, from whence it is again ex-
tracted by art ; and a Le Monnier, equal to the fa-
bulous Jupiter, holds the thunderbolt, and disposes
of it at his pleasure- It is likewise fire that commuai^
10?
cates to air and water, when reduced into vapours, that
prodigious force which renders them capable of shaking
the earth, and breaking the hardest bodies.
Lastly, it is fire, that by penetrating fluids, preserves
to them their fluidity. As it is exact itself, in putting
itself in equilibria, it passes from those bodies where it
is most abundant to those where it is least so, and car-
rying with it the most volatile particles, it deposits them
on the surface of the latter, whei'e they appear in the
form of vapours, exhalations or mists.
7- The air, by its fluidity, thinness, weight, and spring,
is next to fire, the most powerful agent in nature. It is
one of the great principles of the vegetation of plants,
and of the circulation of liquors in all organized bodies,
It is the receptacle of the particles which exhale from,
different matters : and had we eyes sufficiently piercing,
we should see it in the abridgement of all the bodies
that exist on the surface of our globe. From vapours
and exhalations which it carries in its bosom, and dis-
perses into all parts, are produced aqueous and fiery
meteors, which are so useful, but sometimes dreadful.
The air does not only receive bodies : it even enters
into their composition. When divested of its elasticity,
it unites itself to the particles which compose them, and
augments their bulk. But being more unalterable than
gold, it resumes its former nature when these bodies
change or are dissolved. Being disturbed in its equi-
librium, it swells the sails of our ships, and conveys to
our countries those. rich fleets that cause plenty. Be-
coming impetuous, it causes tempests and hurricanes :
but even this impetuosity is not without its use : the air,
by this means, divest itself of noxious vapours, and
the waters being strongly agitated, are preserved from a
fatal corruption.
Lastly, the air is the vehicle of sounds and odours,,,
and under these new relations it is essentially allied to
two of our senses. The partial vibration which com*
motion excites in a sonorous body, communicates itself
'i08
to all the globules of air that immediately encompass
this body. These globules cause the like vibrations in
those contigious to them : and this continues in the
same manner to greater distances than we are able to
determine. A fine and elastic membrane spread at the
bottom of the ear like the parchment of a drum, re-
ceives these concussions, and conveys them to three
small bones, placed end to end, that communicate
them, in their turn, te certain bony and winding cavities,
lined on their inside with nervous filaments, which join
to the brain by a common trunk. The greater or less
degree of swiftness of these vibrations produces seven
principal tones, analogous to the primitive colours.
From the combined relation of various tones, harmony
proceeds.
The infinitely small particles that are continually de-
tached from the surface of odoriferous bodies, float hi
the air, which transports them every where, and applies
them to the nervous membranes that are distributed in
the inside of the nose. The concussions which these
corpuscles occasion therein, pass afterwards to the brain
by the lengthening of the nervous filaments.
S. All climates have their productions, all parts of the
earth their inhabitants : from the frozen regions of the
bear to the burning sands of the torrid zone, all is ani-
mated : from the top of the mountains to the bottom of
the valhV.s, every thing vegetates and respires. The
waters and the air are peopled with an infinite number
of inhabitants. Plants and animals are themselves little
worlds that nourish' a multitude of people, as different
from each other in their figure and inclinations as the
great people are which are scattered over the surface of
oar glob<j. What ami saying.' The smallest atom, the
least drop of Hquor are inhabited. Wonderful harmo-
ny ! which, by thus suiting different productions to dif-
ferent places, leaves none absolutely desert !
9 A reciprocal commerce connects all terrestrial
beings, Inorgauized beings answer to organized as fc&
109
their centre : the latter are designed for each other.
Plants are allied to plants; animals to animals. ni-
mals and plants are linked together by their mutual ser-
vices. Behold how closely this young ivy entwines itself
round this majestic oak ! It dravf s its substance from it,
and its life depends on that of his benefactor. Ye
great ones of the earth, ye represent this oak : refuse
not your support to the indigent ; suffer them to ap-
proach you, and to obtain from you sufficient to relieve
their necessities.
Consider this caterpillar thick-set with hair ; the birds
dare riot touch it : notwithstanding -which, it serves
them for food : oy what means 1 a fly pierces the
living caterpillar; she lays her eggs in his body : the
caterpillar remains alive ; the eggs hatch ; the young
ones^row at. the expence of the caterpillar, and are
afterwards changed into flies which serve for sustenance
to the birds. ,
There are continual wars betwixt animals ; but things
are so wisely combined, that the destruction of some of
them occasions the preservation of others, and the fecun-
dity of the species is always proportionable to the dan-
gers that threaten individuals.
10. All is metamorphosis in the physical world':
forms are continually changing : the quantity of matter
alone is invariable : the same substance passes succes-
sively into the three kingdoms : the same composi-
tion becomes by turns a mineral, plant, insect, reptile,
fish, bird, quadruped, man.
The organized machines are the principal agents of
these transformations : they change or dissolve all mat-
ters that enter within them, and that are exposed to the
action of their secret springs : they f^nvert some into
their own substance, others they evacuate under divers
forms, which render these matters proper tor entering
into the composition of different bodies. Thus, animals
that multiply prodigiously, as some species of insects, -
have, perhaps, for their principal end that uf metainer-
F- 0'
110
phosing a considerable quantity of matter /or the use
of different compounds. By that means, the vilest
matters give birth to the richest productions ; and from
the bosom of putrefaction there issues the finest flower
or the most exquisite fruit !
The AUTHOR of NATURE has left nothing useless.
What is consumed of the dust of the stamina in the ge-
neration of plants, is very trifling if compared with the
quantity each flower furnishes. WISDOM itself then
has created the industrious bee, that makes use of the
superfluous part of this dust with such art and economy
as could not be too much admired in the most skilful
geometricians.
The earth enriches us every day with new gifts, where-
by she would at length be exhausted, if what she sup-
plies us with weue not restored to her. By a law, which
we do not pay a proper attention to, all organized bodies
become uncompouiided and insensibly change in the
earth. Whilst they suffer this kind of dissolution, their
volatile parts pass into the air, which transports them
every where : so that, animals are buried in the atmos-
phere as well as in the earth and water ; we may even
doubt whether that portion which the air receives be
not the most considerable in bulk. All these particles
dispersed here and there, soon enter into new organical
•wholes, destined to the same revolutions as the former :
and this circulation, which has subsisted from the
beginning of the world, will continue as long as it
endures.
Ill
CHAP. VI.
Of Vegetable Economy.
HERE is no source of physical relations that is
more abundant than the economy of organized bodies,
let us cast an eye on what it oilers to us on the most in-
teresting nature. Our plan does not lead us to dive
into a subject that exhausts the sagacity of a philosopher.
Organical ECONOMY, taken in the most extensive
sense, is that system of laws according to which the vital
functions operate in organized bodies.
Considered in a less view, organical economy pre-
sents us with two classes of objects : the first compre-
hends the structure, arrangement, and exercise of the
different parts of organized bodies : the second com-
prises the various effects that result from organization.
2. The plant vegetates, is nourished, grows, and mul-
tiplies. The saline, unctuous, and subtle slin»e, which
the water separates from the coarse earth, and keeps in
a dissolved state, is the principal nutriment of plants.
The different species of manure only contribute to the
fertilizing of land, in proportion, as they hitrooure into
it a great quantity or a spor.gy powder or active salt.
If a natural philosopher succeeds in raising plants, and
causing them to bear iunvt-rs and fruits in other matters
than earth, for instance in the powder ot rotitn wood,
deal, saw-dust, very tine sand, moss, cotton, paper,
sponges ; the reason is, because several of these matters
113
either Change insensibly in the ground, or actually con*
tain earthy parts ; or the water which moistens them is
itself charged with these particles, which the organs ex-
tract, prepare, and assimilate.
After having been admitted into the body of the root
by the extremity of the fibres, the nutritious juice rises
into the ligneous fibres, from the trunk or stalk, and
passes into the utricle^ that adhere to them : it is there
prepared and digested. It afterwards enters into the
proper vessels, under the form of a coloured fluid, more
or less thick, which we may conjecture to be with re-
spect to the plant, what the chyle or blood is to the
animal. Being filtered by finer, or more winding pipes,
it is at last conveyed to all the parts, whereto it unites
itself, and increases their bulk.
The extreme fineness of the canals for the sap, which
renders them, in some measure, capillary pipes; the
action of the air on the elastic sheaths of the air-vents,
and the impression of these last on the ligneous fibres they
contain, or by which they are comprised ; the heat that
rarefies the sap ; and, above all, that which, by acting on
the surface of the leaves, draws thither the superfluous
nutritious juice, and occasions the evaporation of it,
seem to be the principal causes of the ascent of this
fluid in plants. The quantity of nutriment which a plant
derives from the earth, is in proportion to the number
and size of its leaves ; the smaller or fewer in number
the leaves are, the less it draws. The nutrition of ve-
getables is likewise effected immediately by their leaves.
Thev '<o not only serve for raising the sap, preparing it,
and discharging its superfluity ; they are, moreover, -a
kind of roots that pump from the air the juices they
transmit to the neighbouring parts.
The dew, which rises from the ground, is the princi-
pal foundation of this aerial nourishment. The leaves
present it to their inferior surface, which is always fur-
spshed with an infinite number of small pipes that are
always ready to observe it; and that the leaves may re-
ceive no prejudice in the exercise of this function, they
are disposed with such art on the stalk and branches,
that those that immediately precede do not cover such
as succeed them. Sometimes they are placed alternately
on two opposite and parallel lines ; sometimes thjey are
distributed by pairs, that cross each other at right
angles; sometimes they are ranged on the angles of
polygons, circumscribed on ' the branches, and so dis-
posed that the angles of the inferior polygon correspond
with the sides of the superior : at other times, they
ascend the whole length of the stalk and branches, on
one or more parallel spiral lines.
Ye sceptics, can you inform me why plants are dis-
posed with so much art ? You will, perhaps, deny that
plants imbibe the dew by their inferior surface ! But
what would you say, were one to inform ycu, that
among leaves, exactly resembling each other, and taken
from the same tree, such as have been steeped by their
inferior surfaces in vessels of water, have continued
green for the space of whole weeks, and even months ;
whilst those that have been placed, by way of experi-
ment, with their upper surface in the water, perished in
a few days ?
x Herbs that are always immersed in the thickest beds
of dew, and that grow much faster than trees, have their
leaves formed in such a manner, that they pump in the
moisture nearly alike by both surfaces, sometimes more
copiously by the upper ones.
Observe lastly, that die inferior surface of the leaves
of trees is commonly less smooth and glossy, and of a
paler colour, than the opposite surface. This remark-
able difference between the two sides of the leaf, suffi-
ciently indicated that they have different uses.
3. By a mechanism which is very simple, the root
forces itself into the earth ; the brancnes shoot out on
each side; the leaves expose their superior surface to
the open air; and their inferior surface to the earth, or
the iniK-r part of the plant. Sow a seed the contrary
way, you will observe the radicle and little stalk to bend
114
backwards; the former in order to reach the earth, and
the latter to gain the air. Keep a young stalk in-
clined, its extremity will grow upwards. Bend the
branches of all sorts of plants; cause the inferior sur-
face of their leaves to turn towards the sky ; you will
soon perceive that ail these leaves will turn back again,
and resume their former position : which motion will
be executed with a quickness proportionate to the heat
of the sun, or supleness of the leaves. Sow different
kinds of seeds in a closet or cellar ; carry thither some
small twigs, having their extremity steeped in vessels
full of water ; the leaves of the young plants, and those
of the twigs, will incline their upper surface to the win-
dows or air-holes.
Consider the leaves of divers species of herbaceous
plants ; of the mallow for instance : you will remark
that they follow the course of the sun. In the morning
you will see them present their upper surface to the
east ; towards the middle of the day this surface will
face the south ; in the evening it will be turned to the
west. At piglit, or in rainy weather, these leaves will
be horizontal, their inferior surface looking towards the
earth.
Trace, likewise, the leaves of the acacia; as soen as
they are headed by the sun, you will observe all their
foliages draw together by their upper surface: they
will then form a kind of gutter, turned towards the
sun. In the night, or in moist weather, you will see
the foliage turned the contrary way, and contracting
themselves by treir inferior surface : they will then form
a gutter that \viii face the earth.
4. Do not seek for circulation in plants: as they are
more sin;p e than animals, evtry thing in them is per-
formed with (ess apparatus.
In the da>-timc-, the acuon of the heat on the leaves,
draws to them in abundance the nutritious juice. The
small excretory vessels that appear in the forms of glo-
115
bules, pyramids, filaments, separate the more aqueous,
or gross parts of the juice, that rises from the root.
The air contained in the trachae of the stalk and branches,
by dilating itself more and more, presses the ligneous
fibres, and by that means accelerates the course of the
sap, at the same time that it causes it to penetrate into
the neighbouring parts.
When night approaches, the inferior surface of the
leaves begins to perform one of its principal functions :
the little mouths it is provided with open themselves,
and receive the vapours that float in the atmosphere.
The air of the trachae is confined within them ; their
diameter is lessened; the ligneous fibres being less
pressed, enlarge themselves, and admit the juices con-
veyed to them from the leaves: these juices join them-
selves to the residue of that which had arisen in the
day-time, and the whole mass tends towards the roois.
This seems to be exactly the mechanism to which the
motion of the sap may be reduced. You now see,
more clearly, the design of the direction of the leaves,
and of their admirable reverting ; the inferior surface
being intended for imbibing the dew, should face the
earth, from whence this vapour rises gradually at sun-
set. But when I say that the principal office of this
surface, at least in trees and shrubs, is to receive the
dew, I would not infer that the opposite surface is inca-
pable of it ; that may, perhaps, absorb vapours that are
more rare.
Experiments that are well made, seem to prove that
the inferior surface of the leaves or trees serve likewise
for insensible perspiration. Those leaves, in which this
surface was endued with a matter impenetrable by
water, drew in and transpired much less, in an equal
time, and with the same management, than leaves of the
rjame size and likeness, whose inferior surface had not
been endued with such a varnish. It seems to have re-
sulted from the same experiments, that there is but
little perspiration by the upper surface ;» we may thence
infer, that one of its principal functions is, to serve for a
helter or defence to the lower surface : and that, no
116
tloubt, is the use of the glossy varnish observable on the
superior surface*, ail which agrees with the almost spon-
taneous motions and directions of the leaves, and with
their symmetrical distribution round the stalks and
branches.
5. The plant being inclosed in miniature within the
fruit or seed, is there encompassed with a quantity of
flour, which, after being diluted by the water that has
penetrated the inclosures, ferments, and furnisl cs the
germ with its first nourishment. Being moist fried by
the delicate milk, in proportion to its weakness, it grows
from day to day: in a short time its coverings become
incommodious ; it endeavours to divest itself of them,
and pushes forth a little root, which proceeds to seek
for more nourishing juices in the earth. The little
stalk appears in its turn : as it is destined to live in Uie
air, it pierces the earth, and darts perpendicularly into
the aerial fluid. Sometimes it carries along with it the
remains of the teguments that had enwrapped it in the
germ state; at other times, it is accompanied by two
leaves, which are very different from those of a mature
age : these are the seminal leaves, whose principal use
is, probably, to refine the sap.
Though it is divested of its swaddling-clothes, if we
jnay so term them, the young plant is not at full liberty :
it is not in a condition to be exposed so early to the
impressions of the air and sun. All the parts remain,
for a short time, folded together, nearly as they were in
the seed; but the root, by extending and ramifying it-
self more and more, conveys to the vessels a consider-
able quantity of sap, which soon opens all the organs.
At its first appearance the plant is almost gelatinous :
it assumes, by little and little, a greater degree of con-
sistence by the incorporation of the juices which flow to
it from all parts. That part of the stalk next the root
increases in bulk, extends itself, and hardens first of all :
as the hardening augments, the extension diminishes :
at length, it entirely ceases in this part, and continues
117
in that which immediately follows. Such is the nature
of the progression observed in the whole plant.
IFbod, whose hardness is sometimes equal to that of
stone, is formed of a succession of concentric layers,
that are detached every year from the inside of the rind,
and harden as they advance in age.
6. Vegetables multiply by seeds, shoots, and slips.
The -pistil and stamina are, to plants, what the organs
of generation are to animals ; the former incloses the
seed ; the fine powder of the latter fecundates it.
Both sexes are frequently united in the same subject ;
and these species are real hermaphrodites: others bear
the pistil on one branch, and the stamina on another.
A third sort are like the greater part of animals, distinct
males and females : the former afe furnished with a
pistil, and the latter with a stamina. This is all we
know with regard to the generation of plants.
When the stamina are cut off, the seed remains un-
fruitful. The same thing happens when any one that
has pistils, has not, in its neighbourhood, another pro-
vided with stamina : the pistil is always so disposed as
to be able to receive the dust of the stamina. Its top
is perforated with holes, proportioned to the diameter
of the grains of this dust, and its inside is divided into
several canals, whose diameter diminishes the nearer they
approach to the bottom : at the base of the pistil the
seed is deposited. Every grain of the dust of the sta-
mina is a box, wherein floats, in a kind of very thin va-
pour, an infinite multitude of other very minute grains :
this box opens itself to the moisture, and discharges a
small mist of globules or grains.
The shrinking of the trunks indicates that the COB-
taining globules do not reach to the bottom of the
pistil ; but the contained globules, or grains, are set at
liberty by the action of the moisture which the trunk
imbibes, which, by opening the little box that incloses
them, permits them, by this means, to penetrate to the
ovary,
118
7. Vegetables multiply by shoots. They push forth
from the circumference of their root several succours,
which become plants themselves, and propagate their
species in like manner : the branches and young shoots
may likewise be considered as ingrafted on the principal
plant, making one body with it. The germs, which 'are
dispersed within the plant, infold themselves (here with-
out any sensible fecundation, and reach to the surface
of the bark ; they appear there in the form of a small
oblong and rounded body, composed of several parts,
ranged in a very regular manner, and shaped like tubes,
shells, &c. This little body is the lud, v hich, like the
seed, incloses the young plant under several coverings,
all the parts of which are completed with abundance of
art.
The little stalk shoots forth a similar bud at its upper
extremity : this bud opens, and produces a second
stalk, grafted on the first, which it lengthens. This new
stalk produces a third; the third a fourth, and so on
successively. When the tree has attained its full growth,
it is composed of a series of small trees, placed end to
end. It is the same with respect to branches and
boughs, all having one and the same life, and forming
only one organical whole.
Bulbous plants, instead of young shoots, send forth
suckers. The bulb, which is formed of several mem-
branes, or coats, placed on each other, contains, in like
manner as the seed and bud, a plant in miniature. The
sucker is a small bull) that shoots out on the sides of
the principal one, and .which is designed to succeed or
replace it : sometimes this replacing i^ pfiiormed with
such quickness and circumstances as art very surprising.
Whilst the principal bulb is wasting, the sucker thickens
and spreads itself, and in a short time becomes the
principal bulb.
\Ve may compare this bulb to a species of earth, that
exhausts itself in order to furnish suitable juices to the
young plant : it may also be looked upon as <.-. placenta,
that filtres and prepares the nutritious juice. The ituves
119
of some herbaceous plart* rical masses, that
are. pretty con d see MI t nn t'ie ffiee of a
bulb. The head of a cabbage \ .^elf,
in order to contribute to the u»<;oi - ><r t, Hu ute
stalk it contains. Place orre of thei-»- •• Hi; a >,ei
full of water, and it will exhibit to you the sa^. phei;o-
mena as the bulb 01 a flower.
8. The branches that bend down from certain trees
to the earth, take root there, and become themselves
young trees. Human industry carries t-as kind of mul-
tiplication to a much greater extent. By mean; thereof,
a single branch or root, divided into several parts, be-
comes so many individual plants. What do I say? ft
can even cause a tree to be produced from the smallest
shred of a leaf. Such is the multiplication from slips.
The organs essential to life being dispersed throughout
the whole body of the subject, the slip that is detached
from it, and planted in the earth, is of itself capable of
forming new productions ; it has every thing necessary
for the unfolding of the radicles and buds. Thus a
single leaf takes root, and vegetates by its own strength.
There is another kind of multiplication that is very
remarkable, which consists in planting one or more slips,
not in the earth, but iii the trunk or branches of a living
tree. This is grafting -} the first idea of which may
perhaps have been owing to the accidental union of two
branches or two fruits.
The next cause of the union of the graft with its
subject, is in the intercourse of the sap-vessels with each
other ; and this intercourse depends ultimately on the
relation of their parts, and particularly on that of their
consistence, and the liquors contained in them. By the
assistance of a graft the gardener causes the wild stock
to produce the finest fruits; he gives youth to trees, and ga-
thers plums from the almond tree, and pears from the ash.
Filtrating, and the preparation of the juices of the subject
by the vessels of the graft, occasion these productions.
The roll which is always formed at the insertion, and is
2
120
composed by the interweaving of a prodigious number
of fibres, is one of the principal instruments of these
preparations. The more or less perfect analogy of the
juices proper to the subject with those that are peculiar
to the graft, favours hi a greater or less degree the un-
folding ol the latter. The nearer or more distant rela-
tion between the time in which the sap in the subject
continues, and that in which the graft has been accus-
tomed so to do, contributes likewise more or less to the
success of the operation.
9. The body of the plant is in a continual state of mo-
tion. It always tends to produce, either the bark, a
bud, or a root. Make an incision in a tree : the wound
will cicatrise. A greenish roll will in a short time be
seen at the top of the wound, afterwards on the sides,
and at length towards the bottom. This roll is a new
rind, which i& about to cover the wood again, without
uniting to it. Observe what passes with respect to this ;
you will perceive in it certain distinct and glutinous nip-
ples, and small reddish spots dispersed here and there,
which you will find to be a growing bark. A matter
that is parti) transparent, whitish, and mucilaginous, will
seem to raise up this bark. All these glutinous sub-
stances will thicken, increase in length, and become
stronger, and in a little time what was at first of a gluey
nature will be herbaceous, cortical, and ligneous. The
cicatrice will at length entirely close itself, and restore
the communication between all the vessels.
The w.Qod does not only differ from the lark by its
density, but it has likewise organs that are not to be
met with in the latter. It seems to be peculiarly pos-
sessed of air-vessels. When a new rind seems to con-
vert itself into wood, this conversion is only in appear-
ance. Nature does not create more air-vessels than are
suited to one entire plant. f But a multitude of fibres,
that are destined to become wood, pre-exist under the
new rind, and unfold themselves with it and by it, as we
see the butterfly unfold itself in and by the caterpillar.
Whilst wood is nothing more than a mucilaginous drop,
121
it is not on that account the less wood, than when, be-
ing transformed into a pillar, it is made to support the
enormous weight of an edifice.
In the union of the groff with its subject, we likewise
perceive a glutinous substance to. spring from each of
them, which spreads, ramifies, and is formed into a ball
in both, becoming by degrees herbaceous, cortical, lig-
neous, and composes above the insertion a roll which
entirely covers it So that the whole body of the plant
is furnished with small fibres on the inside, which only
wait for favourable circumstances to display themselves.
These circumstances are a wound, a«i incision, or a simple
ligature. These fibres are the elements of cortical or
ligneous beds, which by spreading themselves on all
sides, furnish the necessary repairs. The wound, inci-
sion, and ligature, occasioning the nutricious juices to
flow towards these invisible fibres, expand them, and
render them perceptible to us.
What these fibres perform in the regeneration of the
bark or wood, the germs effect in the reproduction of a
branch or young shoot. The fibres of the bark or wood
do not unite themselves into bunches, in order to com-
pose a lud or branch in miniature. This branch is al-
ready completely formed in its germ : it there possesses
the elements of all the beds, whether cortical or ligne-
ous, which it will hereafter exhibit under different pro-
portions.
122
CHAP. VII.
Of Animal Economy,
HE nerves, which extend themselves into all
parts from the brain, are distinguished into several prin-
cipal divisions, that are more or less numerous, or more
or less extended. Each division reaches to the part for
which it is destined, and whose structure corresponds
with the functions appointed for it to exercise.
Feeling, sight, hearing, taste, and smell, are five
kinds of senses, which contain under them an almost in-
finite number of species. The shaking which the me-
diate or immediate impression of objects produces on
the nerves, give birth to those different kinds of sensa-
tions, which may all be reduced to feeling, of which
they are properly only modifications. The organs of
the senses are the instruments of these modifications.
The number, extent, and delicacy of the senses, consti-
tute the degree of animal perfection.
The nerves, which seem to resemble the strings of a
musical instrument, are not stretched like them. Some
animals are endued with an exquisite sensation, that are
themselves little otherwise than a thick jelly ? How then
can we admit of elastic strings in this jelly ] While the
fetus is altogether gelatinous, it regulates at that time
its members. With what amazing swiftness then must
the impressions of objects communicate themselves to
the soul ! and with what wonderful celerity must the
members obey the will ! Thus we are led to suppose in
the nerves a very subtle and elastic fluid, whose mo-
tions, being analogous to those of light or electrical
123
fluid, produce all the phenomena of sight. The eni'm&i
spirits are this fluid, which the brain extracts and pre-
pares, and continually conveys into the nerves, and by
the nerves into all parts, which it nourishes, moves, and
animates.
2. An animal had in vain received senses, by means
of which it can distinguish between what is useful or
hurtful, if it were not able to give itself any motion for
the attaining the one, and avoiding the other. It is
therefore furnished with organs that procure to it. this
faculty. These organs are the musclesy which by the di-
latation and contraction, and by the lengthening and
shortening of the iibres that compose them, communi-
cate to all parts the motions, which are suited to the
wants of the animal.
It is evident from experiments, that the nerves contri-
bute to the exercise of the muscles. The spirits which
they disperse therein, insinuate themselves into all the
vesicles, dilate them, and by that means put the organ
into action.
One property of the muscular fibre (whose effects ar£
diversified a thousand ways, the cause of which is con-
cealed from us) is that, by virtue whereof it contracts it-
self on the touch of any body either solid or liquid*
This is called irratabifity. By means of this, different
parts of the animal continue to move, after they have
been separated from the entire body ; and the heart
when detached from the breast, performs a number of
pulsations, which cease as soon as the blood in the cavity
is evacuated.
3. From that part which gives admittance to the food
to that from whence issue the remains of the grosser
aliment, there is one continued canal, which is fonned,
differently in different parts of its extent. There are
three principal parts distinguished in it, the tesopkagus,
the stomach, and the intestines. All these are formed
of various membranes laid on each other, and which
are themselves composed of fibres differently interwo-
ven. The muscles, wherewith one or several of these
vol.. iv. G
es ore furnished, impress divers motions on f!^
.organ, the principal of which, called the peristaltic mo
tion, braises the aliment, and forces it from place to
rplace.
The cesophagus receives the grosser nourishnsent, ;md
transmits it to ihe stomach, that prepares it: it after-
wards passes into the intestines, where it undergoes new
preparations. FPORI thence it enters into some very
small vessels, that convey it to those of .circulatiorj,
.where it assumes the name, of llond.
Whilst the most delicate par! of the aliment is subject
to all these preparations, the grosser part is evacuated
by different ways. Sometimes the animal discharges it
'.as a sediment', sometimes, being transformed into a.
•subtle liquor, it is carried to the surface of the skin by
an infinite number of very fine vessels, whose exterior
apertures are sometimes so small, that a grain of sand is
capable of covering several thousands of them.
Other vessels, which, like them, communicate with
the surface of the skin, pump in the vapours that float
in. the air, and convey them into the blood.
4. Circulation is that perpetual motion by which the
blood is conveyed from a point internally to the extre-
mities, and flows back again from the extremities to the
same point. The point from whence the blood springs,
is called the heart. It. has two motions, one of contrac-
tion, or. systole, by raeaus of ..which it forces out the
blood contained in its cavity .; -the .other of dilatation,
or diastole, by which it receives the blood again.
Two kinds of vessels join to the heart: the arteries,
which convey the blood to the extremities: and th«
veins, which carrj it back from the extremities io the
heart.
The -arteries, have, like the heart, .their systole and
diastole,- aud divide and subdivide themselves, as do the
veins, into an infinite number of branches, which dimi-
nish in diameter in proportion to their distance from their
origin. The perpetual motion of circulation prevents
the corruption and extravasation, of the nutritious 'fluid,
rcct-if] s it more and more, ar.cl disposes it insensibly to
renew the nature of the aniniaL
,5. Respiration comprehends two alternate motions;
one of inspiration, \vhich gives admittance to the air
within ; the oilier, oi- expiration, which, expels it, tilled
with the vupours of the animal.
The lungs are the principal instrument of respiration.
They are principally formed of a collection of cartila-
ginous and elastic vessels, which after being divided and
sjibdi\ided into a prodigious number of branches?, meet
in different parts, and terminate at one or more common
trunks, called trachff?, or air-vessels, whose aperture is
on the reside of Hie body. The ramification.; of the
air-vessels "are connected with the- vessels of circulation,
•.and accompany them in their pussage through the
lungs.
6. The blood is that rich fund from whence nature
derives that diversity of materials she employs with so
much art in the const ruetiOBsof her wonderful edili< e,
T.h is, as it goes from the heart, meet?, here and there
-on its passage, with certain organical, and as it were
knotted ma>ses, in which it is deprived of part <v
principles.
We f-:i:uiot yet penetrate the true merli;imsro of
ereiivns : we can only faintly perceive-, that tlicv ir.uy
operate by a gradual diuiinurion of the vessels w'siefi
j*roportiv.'ns them to (he sinailness of the .parlirlcs that
•«re to be separated. They may likewise bear some
ittiiiiity to the configuration of these particles, and favour
-the extraction of them by means of the slackening which
their folds and various circumvolutions occasion to the
circulation. Thus it is, that by causing the aliment to
JHI^S through an infinite number of strainers, nature is
enabled to assimilate it to the animal, and incorporate
it ii;to his ilesh. This is then neither chyle nor blood;
it is a much more refined liquor, and known by the
va^ue name of lymph.
G 2
126
We cannot sufficiently admire the prodigious apparatus
of vessels which perform the secretions of different kinds.
The kidneys, the liver, the pancreas, &c. are labyrinths
in \vhich the most consummate anatomist is bewildered.
We can only discover an inconceivable mass of white tubes,
of an extreme minuteness, folded together in thousands
of different ways, which do not admit of any injection,
through adhering to the blood-vessels, and being placed
end to end by imagination, would have formed a chain
of several leagues in length. This is all that: art has dis-
covered in the secretory organs. But what a number of
interesting particulars do these minute, hollow eviinders
contain, which have escaped our notice and instruments !
What varieties should we not discover in their ttruchire,
functions, and exercise, were ue permitted to descend to
the bottom of this abyss, which conceals from us one of
the greatest mysteries of nature ! All the animal liquors
are more or less mixed, and these smn.ll tubes no doubt
sufficiently diversify themselves to separate the various
mofecules that must necessarily enter into the composi-
tion of every liquor. What then must be the structure
and fineness of those that filtre this so subtle fluid, coin-
pared to ether or light, whose operations are diversi-
fied almost to infinity !
7. If we knew how a single fibre grows, we could
tell how the animal grows ; for his whole body is only
an assemblage of fibres differently formed and combined.
Growth always operates by-mitrition. This incorporates
into the fibre molecules of an heterogeneous nature,
which extend in every part. The fibre incorporates
into itself the heterogeneous molecules, according to its
own nature. A fibre is not itself composed of other
fibres : these of still other fibres : of which there would be
no end. Br.t the fibres is formed of molecules or elements,
M'liose nature, proportions, and arrangement, respec-
tively determine the species of the frbre, and adapt it to
such or such a function. Thus the elements of the fibre
ultimately effect assimilation, which, by uniting with the
.nutritious molecules, that have an affinity with then),
e them at the same time an arrangement like that
127 ,
which they have in the fibre. The extension of the fibre
supposes that its elements may separate more or less
from each other; hut this separation hath its bound,
and these bounds are those of the growth. In propor-
tion as the fibre grows, it acquires more solidity; for
the i] umber of incorporated molecules increase every
day, since it only grows by the successive incorporation
of molecules of a foreign nature. The more the solidity
augments, the more the suppleness diminishes. There
are more molecules, more coherence, and more attrac-
tion under the same foldage. The fibre then tends to
a state of hardness, and tiie last term of its harden-
ing is the last term of its growth. When therefore the
fibre has acquired its full growth, it is a little organized
whole, composed of its elementary molecules, and of ail
such as nutrition has incorporated with them during the
time of their growth. If then we could separate from
the fibre all those molecules which it has assimulated,
we should restore it to its primitive state. This may
be applied to ail organized bodies. They are, if we cliuse
to term them so, net work. A secret force .impels the
aliment into the meshes. It increases them in bulk,
and supplies Inem by little and little. It likewise insi-
nuates itself into the elements of the solid mass itself. The
net-work stretches, thickens, and at length becomes hard.
8. We may easily comprehend, that all the parts of
an animal have such strict and indissoluble connexions
between them, that they must necessarily have always
co-existed together. The arteries imply veins; both of
the e imply nerves; the latter the brain; this the heart;
and all of them suppose a multitude of other organs.
In the germ of a chick there is at first perceived a
vital pointy vthose constant motion attracts the attention
of the observer. The alternate and quick contractions
and dilatation of the living point, sufficiently indicate-
that iris the heart. Bat this heart seems to be without
any covering, and to be placed on the outside of the
body. Instead of appearing in. the form of a minute-
pyramidical mass, it bears the resemblance of a. serai--
G 3
128
t?rc?e. The other viscera appear sncoessiveiyj HUG
' rar.ge themselves after eacli other, round the living*
speck. We cannot as yet discover. "any ^eutnii folding ;,
alils tnu:s*<aunt ov 3i«u*Jy so; and we aiilv perceive by.
little and lit tie those teguments vv-hich are appointed to,
ccver all the parts.
In its first beginnings the, ai^ma! is almost entirely-,--
fluid. It assumes by degrees the- consistence of a je41y,-.
-Ail the parts have at that time situations, forms, and
proper* ions, that ilifter gi\vi»tly from those, they will at-.
terwards .. axqui;.e. Their minuteness/ softness, and
Iraii.spsn-iK'y, Mive to strengthen the illusion. We per-.
suade ohisil\es that a bowel is naked, Inrcaiise the-
transparer«cy of its coverings prevents our seeing them.
"Would you have a. short and easy demonstration of
this? When the lungs of the chick are first pereeivable,
their size is but the thousandth part of an inch. It
\vouh have been visible at the fourth part of these di-
mensions, were it not endued with the most perfect
transparency. The liver is much greater at its first ap-
pearance ; iv transparency alone- renders it invisible. It
is the same with respect to the kklme»; whilst they do
not even appear to exist, they separate the. urine. The
heart .-forces the blood into the arteries sooner than we
could imagine, and it can only be perceived by the
growth of the embryo, which is. never more accelerated
than at the very beginning.
Many other facts concur with these to establish the-
pre-existence of organical wholes. We are- now sensi-
ble thai many insects" multiply, like plants, by slips. We
cut. them into pieces, and eaeh piece regenerates, .and be-
comes a perfect animal. Earth worms ara ranked ia
the number of those insects that are reproduced from
their disjoined parts ; and being very large, the pheno-
mena of their regeneration is very perceptible. The
piece thai is cut off never acquires any growth; it al-
ways remains as the section left it; only it mils away in ,
a- greater or lesser degree. But after some time there
appears. a. very sroall whitish pimple at its extremity,
wlircii increases by degrees ia bulk and length^ There:,
are soon discovered ring*, which are at 'first very' 5;
and very close. They spread themselves insensibly every '
*.vay. New kings, a new heart, a new stomach, disci o e
themselves, a:rd \vilh them a number of o;her organs.'
Tliis piece, winch is newly produced, is extremely slender,
alid altogether disproportion^] to the part on which it
grew. We. may imagine that we see a worm gtowitfg,
that is' ti raited at the end of this stump, endeaVonrisiij
to lengthen it. This little vermiform appendage fiflflMds
itself slowly. At length it equals in thick-ness ilie piece
from which it was cut, and exceeds it in length. It can
no longer be distinguished from it but by its colour,
Which is somewhat ilsujter.
Mere then i.s a new orpawcal whole, which gr^'.v/. ffotat
an ancient one, an'J constitutes the same body ; there u
an animal slip that grows, and expands itself on the
stump of an animal, as a vegetable- slip does on the
trunk of a tree. Remark -that the flesh of the pifccfc cut
off does not in the least contribute to the formation of
the part regenerated; the stump only nourishes the'
bud ; it beinr the soil in which the latter "vegetates,
The part then t;> t is reproduced passes through 'all the
.degrees of growth, by which the \ent»re animal itself
Irad before passed. It is a real animal, which pre-ex-
feted in a very minute form in the great animal that
served it for a matrix.
Vegetable productions exhibit to us- the same con-
sequences. If a tree be topped, that does-not lengthen
the Hunk of it : but it sends forth a* multitude of buds,
in e »ch o! which a little tree is comprised; for the bud
or branch that springs- from it is a tree that is grafted
on the t'link that nourishes it,
Every seed in like manner comprizes a plant in mina-
ture, On every sli«b* inspection, we may \ ry easily dis-
cover the siaJk, \\ >M»d root of this littlfe-pl'anf ; bat
the curiosis rr -r, and distinguish, in a bul-
lions r ', those Cowers that do not
n an ov^
r iiojii that wuicii*
130
it will afterwards assume, that we should be apt to mis-
take it, were it not to accompany it in all its progress.
Observehovv tJie parts of a plant are folded together,
eutwined7 and concentred in the seed or bud. Is this
that majestic tree which will ere long overshadow a
large space of ground 1 This the flower that will so
gracefully display itself? This the fruit that will as-
sume such a regular figure ? You can now only per-
ceive an unformed mass of knotted filaments : yet this
little chaos may already contain in it a world, where all
is organized and symmetrical.
You have seen frogs in their first state ; they appear
afrtliat time to consist only of a large head and a long
tail : such is the chick when it begins to expand itself.
A very slender tail, stretched in a strait line, is joined to
a large head ; and the tail contains all the rudiments of
the composition ; nay, is the very composition itself;
and the transparent fluid in which it floats, constitutes
the whole of those soft parts with which it is afterwards
covered.
The same revolutions, therefore, which occasion the
heart of the chick to be transformed from its semicircu-
lar shape of that of a pyramid, bring the chick itself to
a state of perfection. If we were permitted to pene-
tnitx-' to the foundation of the mechanism whereby these
successive changes are effected, what a degree of cer-
tainty would our knowledge of animal economy ac-
quire? We should contemplate in an egg, the mys-
teries of the two kingdoms,. And how greatly would
our admiration of that ADORABLE WISDOM be in-
creasedi which, by the simplest means, ever attains the
most noble ends ?
f). Thus, the more we ascend to the origin of or-
ganized beings, the mere we "are persuaded (if their
having pre-existed before their first appearance ; not
Such as they first appear to us, but disguised ; and
where it possible for us to trace them still higher,
we should undoubtedly find them still more disguised,
and should be at a- loss to conceive how they could
131
afterwards acquire that form under which they pre-
sent themselves to our view.
We can then form no idea of the primitive state
of organized beings : that state which I conceive to
be given them by the hand of HIM who has ordained
all things from the begin niog.
The forms of vegetables and animals, which are so
elegantly varied, are in the system of this admirable
preordination, only the last results of that multitude of
successive revolutions they have been liable to, and
which perhaps commenced at their first creation. How
great would be our astonishment, could we penetrate
iii to -these depths and pry into the abyss! We should
there discover a world very different from our's, whose
sirange decorations wanki in?in;t ly embarrass us. The
state in which we conceive all organized bodies to have
been at first is the germ state ; and the germ con-
tains, in minature, all the parts of the future animal
or vegetable; it does not then acquire organs which it
had not before ; but those organs which did not
hitherto appear, begin now to be visible. We do not
know the utmost limits of the division of matter, but
we see that it has been divided in a prodigious de-
gree : from the elephant to the mite, from the globe
of the sun to a globule of light, what an incon-
ceivable multitude of intermediate degrees are there!'
This animalcule enjoys the light, it penetrates into its
eye, it there tracts the image of objects: how ex-
tremely minute must this image be! and how muclt
more minute must that of a globule of light be, when:
several thousands, and perhaps millions, enter at the-
same time into this eye ! But great and small are no-
thing in themselves, and have no reality but in our ima-
gination. It is possible that ail the germs of the same-*
kind were originally joined or linked into eadi other,,
and that, they are only unfolded from generation to-
generation, according to that progression which geonie--
try endeavours to assign them.
10. A barren fgg has a yolk as well as a- fruitful egg.;.
and a ray of light has lately sprung which has grealrV
brightened the shades in which the mystery of genera-
tion is yet involved.
Bestow your whole attention on ~this, you will tliea
discover an important truth-. A' membrane clothes the "
inside of the yoik of an egg ; and this membrane, which "
is only a continuation of that which clothes the slender
intestine of tne chick, is coinwoir to the stomach,
pharynx, mouth, skin, and epidermis/ Another mem-
brane enfolds the yolk externally, and this -membrane '
is only a continuation of that which covers the intestine,
it unites wil*Vthe' mesentery and peritoneum. The ar-
teries and -veins that gently move in the. eg<r, derive
their origin from the mesenteric arteries and veins of
the embryo. The bldod which- circulates in the
yolk receives the principle of its motion from the
heart,
The. yoik then is essentially a dependance of the in-
testines of the embryo, and together with that composes <
one and the same organized whole ; so that at its pri- -
mary period, it is in some measure an animal with two
bodies : the head, trunk; and extremities compose one
of these bodies; the intestines and yolk -the other. At
the end of the incubation the second body connects -
\vjth the first, .and both toge4her form only one.
But since the yolk .exists in eggs that have not been
fecundated, it necessarily follows that the germ existed
before fecundation. This consequence is self-evident :
you have lately seen thai the yolk is an -essential part of
the chick ; you have observed the strict communication *
between them. The chick then has never existed with- -
cut it. The membranes and vessels of the former are
only a continuation of the membranes and vessels of
the latter. And what a number of other things are
there which are common to both, and which prove tlmt
they have never existed separately ! The chick was then >
entire in the egg before fecundation. It does not, there-
fore, owe its origin to the liquor furnished by the cock,
but was stretched in minature in the egg previous to it.
Coastquently, the germ belongs solely to the female.
m
S-VIi is the grand conclusion which immediately flows
from facts.
11. The yolk has its liquors, which are conveyed to it I
by tlie arteries belonging to it : they circulate, and
without veins there -is no circulation. But the arteries
and veins of the yoik take • -their origin from the mesen-
teric arteries and veins of the fetus : the heart .of this
latter, therefore, is' the principle of thai circulation
which is performed in the yolk. At the time of fecun-
dation the feius does not weigh the hundredth part of
a grain : the vorkyat that time, weighs a dram ; it has
vessels proportioned to its size. Now if the germ ex-
isted entire before fecundation, that which we stile ge-
neration is not the same thing with it, but is only the
beginning of an evolutim, which will, by degrees, bring
to open day such parts as were before hid in impenetra-
ble darkness.
But the germ cannot be- u».) folded in an egg which
has not been fecundated, and incubation would only
accellerafc its eruption. What does it then want to
enable it to continue to grow 1 It has all* the organs
necessary for evolution. It has- even already attained •
to a certain degree of growth, for eggs grow in young
pulk-ts ; their ovaries contain them of all sizes: the
germ grows there likewise. Why cannot it .enfold itself
more than it does 1 What secret force retains it within
the limits of invisibility ?
Growth depends on the impulsion of the heart: a
greater degree of growth depends on a greater impul-
sion. This degree of impulsion, consequently, is want-
ing in the 'heart' of the germ that has not be e^ fe-
cundated.
This demonstrates a certain resistance 'in the parts
of the germ : as it grows this resistance augments '
in proportion. Some resist more than others; th&
berry parts, or such as will hereafter become so, more"
than the membranous, or those that always must . ive-
m&iii so.
The heart of the germ then liaifo need of a deter-
ft 6-
134
tmnate strength to surmount this resistance : its strength
is in its irritability, or in the power it has of contracting
itself on the touch of some liquid. Wherefore to aug-
ment the irritability of the heart, is to augment its im-
putaive force.
Fecundation, without doubt, increases this force, and
that can alone increase it, since it is only by the inter-
vention of it that the germ passes over the narrow limits
that it retained in its first state.
19. The fecundating liquor then is a true stimulus,
•which being conveyed to the heart of the i*erm, excites
it in a powerful manner, and communicates to it a new
activity. Herein consists what we may call conception.
Motion being once impressed on the little moving body,
is there preserved solely by the energy of its admirable
mechanism.
But it is not sufficient that the heart should acquire a
force sufficient to surmount the resistance of solids y
it is like wise necessary that the fluid which it conveys
to them, and winch should nourish them, be propor-
tionable to the exceeding fineness of the vessels. Such
a blood as ours would not circulate in them. The blood
of the embryo is at tirst a w'rtish liquor, it grows yellow
by degrees, and afterwards red. The more the impul-
sion of the heart dilates, the vessels, the more gross, he-
terogeneous, and colouring particles they admit,
The proliiic liquor then is not a mere stimulus but is
likewise a nutricious fluid, appropriated to the extreme
delicacy of the germ : it has already discharged the
functions of a nutritious fluid in the fecundating indivi-
dual*^ has caused its comb, spurs, &c. to grow and give
strength to all his parts.
Being conveyed by the arteries to all the parts, it
unites itself to 'he nature of each. From i hence pro-
ceeds growth) which we do riot pay a sufficient at-
tention to.
It is not lotig before the chick loses the first foritu
Wings, thighs, legs, and feet, spring out from its long
tail: every thing is formed and disposed oa u new
135
model. The little animal, which before was stretched
out in a strait line, becomes more and more curved.
If is successively clothed with muscles, tendons, flesh,
and feathers, and in eighteen or twenty days is a
perfect chick,
13. If the chick pre-existed in the hen, it is probable
the horse pit-existed in the mare. This would be
more than probable, if it could be demonstrated that
the young of viviparous animals are enclosed in eggs,
and that ail the difference between viviparous and ovi-
parous may be reduced to this, that the former are
hatched in the belly of their mother, and the latter
alter their issuing i'rom it.
On the two sides of viviparous females there is a
body resembling a bunch of grapes, whose berries are
bladders full of a limpid liquor : these are the ovaries ;
they comnmn cate with the matrix by two canals, which
they call tubes. The prolific "liquor penetrates into the
matrix, and passes through the tubes into the ovaries,
Thus fecundation is yerfonned. Fetus's have more
than once been found iii (he ovaries i I self. Nay more,
there has IK en found in a vesicle of the ovary a com-
plete fetus sketched iti miniature.
The vesicles of the ovary are real eggs, which, after
fecundation, descend through the tubes into the matrix,
and are. there in some measure brooded on. In a- short
time they send forth small roots, which- convey the nour-
ishment to the embryo. The suppleness of their mem-
branes admits of their extending and making way for
the growth of the little animal. It is true, the growing
of eggs is not familiar to us; but the history of insecfs
furnishes us with many examples of it. It even ex-
hibits to us insects that are at one time viviparous, nil
another oviparous. The young were in that case at
first lodged in e*r?s ; sometimes the mother lays her
eggs,, and at another brings forth living young ones,
which were hatched from these eggs whilst they were
yet in the matrix.
It is therefore the same with respect to the vesicles of
130-
.&e ovary, as the eggs of the hen, a 0erm pre-exists in*
them, but its transparency conceal^ ii iiom us, fecunda-
lion renders it visible,
14, But if an ass cover a mare, there will be pro- -
cFiiced from this commerce an animal that will not pro-
perly be a horse, but* a mule. Nevertheless, a horse
was delineated in miniature-in the egg of a mare : how
then was it transformed into a mule?'" Whence did it
acquire these long ears and slender tail, so different*
ircm those of the horse? Dissection increases the dif-
ficulty: tiiat informs us that this kind of transformation
doe.s riot only afrct the exterior part of the animal, but
the interior li- evvise. The voice of the mule is very
l]ke that of the a-s, and does not at ail resen>bie the
weighing of a horse. The org; n of the ass's voice is an •
instrument that is very much compounded. A drum, ,
of a singular structure, lodged \\ivhin the larynx, is the
principal part of this instrument: this drum does not
exist in the horse, but is found in the mule.
The liquor furnished by the male consequently pene-
trates the germ, since it -there* produces such great
changes : but these relations of the prolific liquor to4 the
male that furnishes it, must necessarily depend on the -
organs that prepare it.
There are then in -these organs vessels that separate *
the nu) It-cities relative to different parts of the great
\vhole : these molecules are carried to the correspond-
ing parts of the germ, since these parts are modified by
the action of the prolific liquor. Therefore, it incor-
porates itself with the germ, and is the first aliment of ••»
it, as I said above.
The organs of generation in the ass have then a re-
lation to liis ears a?*d larynx ; for they prepare a liquor
which .modifies the ears and larynx of the little horse -
enclosed in the egg. The prolific liquor creates lio-
thing, l>ut it may change what already exists : it does
not engender the chick,- which existed before fe-
cundation.
137'
Grrmth depends on nutrition, the latter on incor-
poration: at the same time that a part grows it acquires
solidity. An excess of growth in a part, then, supposes
a super-abundance of mitricious juices, or such as are
more active. The excessive growth which the ears of
the horse acquire by the influence of the liquor of the s
ass, indicates that this liquor contains more mole-
cules, appropriated to the unfolding of the. ears,, than*
that of the horse, or that the molecules of the- firsUare
more active than those of the second.
The extreme softness", I should rather soy fluidity, of
the germ, renders every part of it extremely modifiable.
Those changes which you cannot conceive in an adult,
depend here on the slightest causes.
Bu if the fecundating liquor modifies the gernv this
latter, in its turn, modifies the action of that liquor.
By virtue of its organization it tends to preserve its pri-
mitive slate, resists more or less every new arrangement,
and never gives -way \\ithout always retaining something.,
of its primitive form.
15* Every crganical production, which has more or*
less parts than the species requires, or constructed other-
wise, is a monster. The mule, which doth not engender,
is tiierefore a monster.
The object of enquiry in a celebrated dispute was,
whether certain moriilers were- siu>h originally or by
accident 9
It is evident, that the mule is not a monster/? em its •
origin. Monster* do not exhibit so much constancy
and uniformity. Does an egg ef uhich the mule is
formed oiler itself in the ovary of the mare, just at the^
instant in which the ass fecundates it?
Two branches, fruits or leaves, graft themselves acci-
dentally, and afterwards compose but one and the same
\vhole. Art performs other more extraordinary engrart-
iugs, in all of which there is nothing originally monstrous.
That which happens between two fruits that ingraft
themselves, or are ingrafted by foree> may happen in the
matrix between two eggs, or ia an egg between two
3
138
germs. Two fetus's that are united only by the spin?,
perfectly resemble two fruits that are grafted ly con-
tact. An egg sometimes contains two solks, conse-
quently it then contains two germs. How easy a matter
is it for tiiem to engraft themselves together as- they
unfold ! We have seen a chicken with four feet, which
undoubtedly proceeded from a like union. The germs,
which are first fiuid, and for a considerable time gela-
tinous, are very penetrable. If they come in contact
they will mix together in part. Similar organ?, which
at least half penetrate each other, will subsist in tlie
other moiety. We see clearly this reciprocal penetra-
tion in a human fetus having two heads on a single
body. This monster was evidently formed of two moie*
ties of the fetus connected together.
If their gelatinous state renders germs very penetrable,
it favours with much greater reasoii their union by .graft-
ing, or that of some parts to each other, either of the
same germ, or two or more germs. The graft is united
to- its subject only by gelatinous, or at least by herba-
ceous fibres : such fibres are proper for forming new
productions, and for connecting and intermingling to-
gether. Two polypus's unite together much more
easily than two rinds : they are abundantly softer.
Ifj-. Accidental grafts may give birth to monsters,
which we should term inexplicable, by this principle ;
but you have not forgot that all organical parts have
forms and situations in the germ which differ prodigi-
ously from those they will Lave in the unfolded fetus,
Recall to mind the e/iick in its first form, its heait
in that of a simi-circie, and you will comprehend that
those conjunctions, which appear impossible to you in
the fetus, may be easily effected in the germ.
The analogy of parts likewise favors their union:
this analogy results from that of the elements. Two
membranes are more- disposed to unite than a mem-
brane and a bone, and similar parts of the same organ
than, parts of different orgaua.
139
Lastly, evolution is not uniform in all parts of the
genii, they grow unequally, and this inequality of
growth may influence the effects of contact, pressure,
adhesion, &c. Thus, a monster that is produced with
superfluous members, may derive them from a germ
that has perisli-ed, and of which only these members re-
mained. We plainly see how many causes may destroy
such, or such a part, and produce a monster ly defect.
But all monsters, ly excess, might not owe their
origin to the union of two germs. Certain parts may
grow excessively by the concurrence of particular cir-
cumstances, and augment the number of similar parts in
the same individual. A subject with twenty-six ribs is
really a monster by excess. It has been proved that
supernumerary ribs are entirely owing to the unnatural
developement of a bony appendage of the transverse
apothysis of one of the vertebrae. The causes which
operate in the like unfoldings, act nearly as the liquor
of the ass on the ears and larynx of the horse.
As supernumerary ribs unfold themselves, so two or
three ribs unite themselves into a single one, and these
kind of cases are not rare, either in the vegetable or
animal kingdom. Such parts as almost touch each
other, are very apt to unite : two drops of jelly, and of
the same jelly, unite very easily.
17. The principles I have laid down concerning the
generation of animals, are likewise applicable to that
of plants. What the prolific liquor is to the former, the
dust of the stamina is to the latter. There is a wonder-
ful analogy betwixt these two classes of organized
bodies. The seed, which so nearly resembles the egg,
does therefore, in all probability, contain a gerra, which
existed in an invisible manner before fecundation, which
makes it sensible to us. It appears first of all like a
greenish or yellowish speck. It has been thought that
a grain of the stamina dust has been perceived in this
speck : the germs have on this account bees placed in
this dust, and introduced themselves into the seeds,
which were destined to receive and nourish them. But
«tm we di cover the germ in the egg before fecitn<ia-
tio n ? Notwithstanding v, Inch, it pre-exists there: it is
highly probable that it likewise pre-erdsts in the seed,
and that its minuteness, together with the transparency-
i>f its part;-, conceals it from our sight. Will a philoso-
pher argue, that because a tiling is invisible tons, it. does-
not therefore exibtr I
18. An exact observer lias taken a good method to
clear up the mystery of the generation of plants ; he-*
considered what has resulted from tlie fecundation of'
divers species by the dust of different specie* ; lie has
seen -mules that huve been \vell described proceed front
it : these uiuk'ia, when coi^tiiifd wkh other ^n-des, have
produced new ones j. the resemblances have always
been in a direct proportion to \becktsti the changes
and alterations have always been sensible: tlu ft male
has had some superiority, The privilege of fecundity
has adhered mor^ exactly to what came from her than to>
that which proceeded from the mule, Do not these
curious observations themselves indicate, that m vegeta-
bles, as well as in animals, the genu origioallj belongs
the
I'll
CHAP. VI11
animal Economy, considered, in
1^
HE sketch I have lately drawn of animal ece*
nomy, affords a slight idea of what constitutes the es-
sence of life in most animals. We shall now treat of
the principal varieties which the organization of different
species presents us with. Insects, hitherto little known,
exhibit some singularities in this very respect, to which
we shall confine ourselves byway of preference, in order
to avoid such, details as might carry us to too great a,
length.
We have already seen, in some measure, the different
parts contained in the composition of these little ma*
chines : we will now contemplate their exercise aad va~
rious effect*.
2. The mechanism of respiration is very obscure in
ifisects : we only know, that in them it differs greatly
from that in those animals which are nu>st known to us.
But we judge with greater certainty concerning this di£-
ference by the comparison of the organs, than by that
of their exercise. When a drop of greasy liquor is up-
plied to one, or several stigmata of ar* insect, tiie cor-
responding parts become paralytic : the interception of
tiic air in one part is followed by that of liquors, or
spirits. When we stop up all the stigmata, the insect
dres immediately : if we afterwards open them, we sljaH
I arc ei Ye the inside to xevive. The air which then
142
trates the open orifices of the trachse, evidently pro-
duces this kind of resurrection.
The trachae, or air-vessels, are divided and sub-di-
vided in a prodigious degree. May they not resemble
'so many sieves, which, by separations suitably contrived,
are capable of furnishing to1 each part an air of a more
or less subtle nature, as occasion requires ] There are
commonly reckoned to be nine stigmata on each side t>f
the body; but sometimes they ave more in number, at
others, fewer. The same insect has some that are of
greater or less 'importance to it, or whose functions are
more or less necessary. In several species, the principal
stigmata are placed behind ; i» others, at the head : in-
stead of stigmata, they are pretty frequently observed
to have little tubes of different lengths.
3. The circulation of the blood is performed in insects
with great regularity. We trace it Iry our sight : in some
species of loi'g and transparent worm>, we- may see the
heart, or principal artery, contract and dilate itself suc-
cessively in every part of its extent. H seems to be
composed of a great number of little hear-, placed end
to end, that transmit the blood to each other.
We are yet ignorant in what manner the blood is con-
veyed into the grand aitery : its principal ramifications,
and the canals analogous to veins, a; e. equally unknown.
We are only certain, that in many species, for the most
part of the creeping sort, the principle of circulation is
towards the hinder part ; whereas, in others, it is to-
wards the head. It is very probable, that the grand
artery shoots forth from both sides of it, several branches
that are invisible, by reason of their extreme fineness or
transparency, and that distribute the b!<;od to every
part : other branches are, without doubt, connected w itk
them, and conduct the residue of the blood to the prin-
cipal trunk < f veins, which is imagined to be perceived,
on the opposite side of the Least. The blood of insects
is a subtle liquor, transparent, commonly without co'-
lour; and though it be not hi the least inflammable*
143
resists, in some species, a degree of cold superior lo that
of our severest winters.
4. The organs of generation, in most insects, are
placed at the extremity of the belly: that which cha-
racterizes the male, consists principally of one or t\ve
species offleshy horns, which are turned different ways,
and are generally drawn within the body, but emitted
from thence at the pleasure of the insect. The hind
part of divers males is also furnished with hooks, by
means of which they fasten on that of the females:
in the interior part are lodged different vessels, which
are connected with the principal organ of generation,
and separate the fecundating liquor from the mass of
blood : at the oiid of the aperture formed in t\\efem,ale,
there is joined a kind of canal, which, in many insects,
sends forth several branches, called tubes or ovaries.
These are species of very fine intestines, in which the
eggs are ranged in a row, almost like the beads of a
chaplet.
The eggs nearest the aperture are the largest, or in
a more advanced state. They gradually diminish ac-
cording to their dislance : at length they become alto-
gether invisible.
In the common passage, where the ovaries terminate,
there is inserted, in some species, a very short canal,
which commimicates with an oblong cavity, that is con-
sidered as analogous to the matrix : in this cavity the
liquor of the male is deposited.
Amongst viviparous animals the economy of the
tubes changes. Sometimes the young are ranged in
bunches; at others, they form a kind of cord, twisted
spirally, whose length, width, and thickness, exactly
correspond in number to the length and thickness of
the young that compose it. The young of some vivi-
parous insects, before they are brought forth, tear the
membrane or ovary that incloses them ; they are, to use
the expression, on this account subject to a two-fold
birth.
The eggs of insects are of two kinds : some are
trrtw<''o&'s, like those of tortoises and rrpfil^s.-; other* ni$
u'uiiaceous, as are those of birds. But whereas, in large
animals, the species comprised under these genera differ
only from each other by ja sjender variety ; among?!" in-
sects these varieties are so great, that or.e animal does
not di$er more from another, than one of their eggs
•does from another; some of them are round, elliptical,
lenticular, cylindrical, pyranudieal, flat: some are quite
smnolh, others grooved or channelled. In short, what
is more extraordinary, there are some eggs that grow
after they are laid: we easily judge that they are en-
tirely membraneous. The suppleness of their membranes
admits of their extension ; they have pores that imbibe
the juices of the plant where they are deposited : these
are minute placcntlcc that transmit the nourishment t*
the-eijibtyo.
5. The distinction of insect? into viitipaf0Q3 and ovi-
farous does not only take place in species of different
classesj but likewise in species of the same g*. rms: there
are some "two-winged flies that arc viviparous, and others
that are wiparcits.
Add to this, that some species are viviparous at one
time, and oviparous st another: the vine-fretter fur-
nishes an example of this.
AH great animals that are known to us, are distin-
guished into males and females, and -propagate the spe-
cies by copulation. The same order ]>revails amongst
insects, but all the species are not subject to it ; and*
of those that are, several afford us some verv relnark-
able singularities. In divers species, the male ft winged^
and the female not: the glow-worm, which is sentenced
to crawl during its whole life-tune, is fecundated by an
insect having four wings.
Sometimes, this striking singularity is joined \vith
others that are still more surprising : every where els«
we observe a certain proportion betwixt the male and
female ; hero this proportion vanishes entirely: the fe-
male is a colossus, on which the male walks as on a
spacious s|M)t, The ardour aad agility of the male are
'145
ve ; lie is almost in continual ir.otion : the F<N
-inale, on the contrary, moves but seldom, and that
J;eavilv: she sometimes span-Is the-greatest part of her
life in the most perfect inactivity, inline, The male is
-an insect prnperly so caRed\ his whole .body is intersect-
•ed by iucis'ums that are very conspicuous: the female
,is a spherical mass, fixed to a branch, that one would
-be apt to -take for an excrescence or gall-nut of this
.branch. Yon v/iil imagine that I am speaking of gall-
insects, whose name -so well explains their deceitful ap-
pearances; they are found in great numbers on the
-branches of many trees and shrubs.; they are greatly
diversified ; but always affect: the -form of gall-nuts,
re or less round : they imbibe the jnice of the tree
by the assistance of a. little pump, which they keep fixed
to the bark. They jay some thousands of eggs, which
are piled up under the inotli^r^ belly, as they issue
-from it: when the whole number is laid, the gall-insect
dies, and its carcase remains fastened to the branch:
this is only a coil full of eggs, which one might still
fake for a living gall-insect, so small an appearance'of
• life is there ia tin's strange animal. The young are
-hatched in a short time, wheij there, immediately appears
a multitude of very small animated membranes, either
x>val or circular, -which are borne on MX legs, and dis-
perse themselves on all sides with a wonderful celerity.
6. Several of the species that live in society, present
us with three sorts of individuals ; to wit, males, fern a /.-•-,
.-and -neuters, or individuals that remain uhv.avs deprived
of sex: this we observe in the republics of bses, W(*sps9
and ants, We know that each swarm of bees has but
one female, which bears the name of -queen; the males,
which are called drorws, pretty often amount to four or
five hundred ; the neuters, which are much more nu-
merous, are sometimes forty or fifty thousand in number.
"These are the Holes of the little Sparta ; they are charged
with ail ,the labour. The queen and drone are wholly
taken up in furnishing the state with citizens ; she is, in
146
a literal sens£, the mother of all her people ; she lays
in one year upwards of fifty thousand eggs : she pro-
duces three sorts of them, from whence are hatched
three kinds of individuals of different shape. The neu-
ters then construct three sorts of cells, to receive the
eggs, and lodge the young to he hatched from them.
Divers species of insects are real hermaphrodites ; in
each individual both sexes are united, but he cannot fe-
cundate himself; and generation depends in this case,
as elsewhere, on the concurrence of two individuals.
7- Other insects are hermaphrodites of a more sin-
gular nature ; each individual propagates without any
commerce with another. We have the first example of
this in the vine-fretter, that deserves some attention.
You have very frequently seen little flies fastened in
n gj;eat number to the extremities and leaves of plants,
and twisting them round in various forms : these are
vine-fretters, whose species are almost as numerous as
those of vegetables, and whose remarkable properties
are multiplied in proportion to the attention we pay
them.
They bring forth living young ones : their births are
easy to trace, there needs only good eyes and a little
patience. Take up a little one as soon as it is pro-
duced, inclose it immediately in the most perfect soli-
tude, and in order to be the better assured, carry your
precautions to a degree of scrupulousness ; be, with re-
spect to it, a more vigilant Argus than the fabulous one.
When the little recluse has acquired a certain growth,
it will begin to have young ; and, after some days, you
will find it in the midst of a numerous family.
Make the same experiment on one of the individuals
of this family that you have tried on its chief; the new
hermit will multiply like its father, and this second ge-
neration, brought up in solitude, will not prove less
fruitful than the first.
Repeat the experiment from one generation to ano-
ther ; abate nothing of your cares, your precautions, and
147
suspicious ; proceed, if your patience will permit you,
to the nil th generation, ami they will all present you
with fecund virgins.
After tiiese experiments, so decisive and reiterated,
you are eas-ily persuaded that theie is nq distinction of
sex in vine-fre;ters. What, indeed, would he the use
of such a difference amongst a people, where all the in-
dividuals are constantly sufficient for themselves 7 Na-
tural history is the best logic, because it best teaches us
to suspend our judgment. Vine-fretters are really dis-
tinguished by sexes; there are males .and females
amongst them, and their amours are the least equivocal
of any in the world. I do not know whether there are
in nature any mules more amorous than they.
What then is the use of coupling between insects that
"multiply without" its assistance? Of what service can
an actual distinction of sex be to real androgynes ? The
clearing up of this point depends on another great sin-
gularity. During she summer season they are vivipa-
rous; ihey all bring forth living young: towards Hie
middle of autumn they become oviparous ; they all then
lay real eggs, which are hatched at the return of the
spring. The males begin to appear exactly at trie time
the females begin to lay ; there is, therefore, a secret
relation betwixt the appearance of the males, and the
laying of the females. There are always found in the
bodies of the females, eggs and young, ready to be pro*
duced : the young then were originally inclosed in eggs.
During the line season, they are hatched -in the belly of
their mother, and are brought inte the world alive;
plants, at that time, furnish them with a proper nourish-
ment, which they fail not instantly to imbibe, by the
help of a very slender trunk. At the approach of 'jcold
•weather, the young cannot unfold themselves in the
dam's belly, in order to their being produced alive ;
they remain shut up in their eggs, where they are pre-
served the whole winter : were they to be hatched at
the beginning of that season, they would soon perish
for want of food: the developement depends ultimately
on nutrition. Vine-fretters that are produced alive,
VOL, iv. H
•143
**c more unfolded in the matrix than those v^Tiich sr-e
brought forth inclosed in egu-s : the former ti;< 11 have
received a nourishment in the matrix, which the others
were not able to obtain tln're. ..This aourisjjraeiit was
sufficient to effectuate the -entire opening of the g.rms.
Had not coupling then, for its primary end, .the supply-
ing the defect of this nourishment in such germs as
•ttere not to he hatched till after the.)'' had issued from
the belly of tiicir mother?
I have treated of some species of insects, -iLe males of
which are winged, and the females not ; this singularity
is also to he met. with amongst vine-fret ters: but they
offer still more to us \vitji respect to this : some of the
males are winged, and others remain their whole life-
time without wings. There are likewise winged, fe-
males, and other fenfales that are not ,But this is not
all : the males, and particularly those that are destitute
of wings, are so small in comparison of the female^
that they are seen to walk upon them as a mite upon
fruit: to so great a degree has nature thought fit to
abound, with regard- to these insects, in singularities of
.different kinds.
8. Animals that multiply by .slips and shnots, and that
may be grafted, appear to be real zoophytes, or plant"
animals.
Of these some have .feet,. QIC members, others not.
We will first treat of the latter sort.
The. slime which covers the bottom of ponds and
marshes, may almost be deemed a respectable thing: there
the GREAT .BEING has not disdained to assemble the
traces of his power and wisdom. lie has connected
the existence of this vile matter with that of different
species of worms that are destined to live in and feed
.upon it; and that will, one time or other, present us
,\vith the interesting sight of a new re-production, which
we shall never think we can sufficiently admire, and
shall therefore wonder at it in proportion as our under*
standing is enlightened.
All these worms are long and slender, They are not
i: like the trelle string of a violin : their bocly Is formed
of the succession of a great number of little rings, which
decrease gradually as they approach ihe extremities.
They are very soft : their head, which terminates in a
blunt point, is susceptible of various motions ; it con-
tracts, dilates, lengthens, and shortens itself, at the plea-
sure of the insect. The mouth is furnished with a
muscle that directs the functions of it, and whose exer-
cise is pretty perceivable : tiie anus, which is placed at
the opposite extremity, is a little oblong aperture, bor-
dered v, ith an analogous muscle. The whole skia is so
transparent, as to admit of its being inspected within,
and we may congratulate ourselves on this circumstance,
since it affords us a great spectacle. The polypus ex-
hibits nothing that has the appearance of the viscera :
all its substance seems to be composed of a mass of
small similar seeds. Our fiddle-strings are minute
beings, quite differently organized ; and the apparatus of
the viscera, which the microscope discovers to us, seems
to advance them far above the polypus. A long vessel
: m>es -winding from the head to the tail, is what
.r-kes the eye of the observer: by its regular
•alternate motions, he will soon know it to be^tlie heart,
or grand artery. The liquor that, circulates in these
winding passages is limpid : it is perceived, from the
pulsations it excites in every part of the artery, coin-
prized betwixt two of the rings. One would be apt to
imagine each of these portions to be a real heart, and
that every artery was a chain of little hearts, placed end
to end, and that forced the blood from one part to ano-
ther: it is seen to run with an uniform motion through
all these little hearts, and rises in this manner, as by so
many Madders from the tail to the head, near which it
finally disappears. In different parts of the artery are
discovered delicate ramifications of vessels, which may
be taken for veins, there being perceived no pulsation in
them : beneath, and along the artery, there is a canal,
whose diameter varies at different points of its extent.
It is the intestinal duct which comprehends the cesopha-
H 2
150
v
gus, stomach, and intestines. The aliment is there seen
to digest before the eyes of the observer ; he follows it
in its passage ; sees it descend from the mouth towards
the anus, and pass through every part of the canal be-
tween these two extremities. But can machines, so
compounded as these, be taken to pieces without injur-
ing their economy thereby ?
That suffers not in any respect on that account.
Strictly speaking, it affects these insects no more than
being divided in the midst of the body ; each half not
-only continues to live and move, but that which had no
head presently forms another, and \ve may clearly per-
ceive a new tail spring forth in that part which was des-
titute of one. In less than three days the two moieties
become two complete worn..
It is more extraordinary for fourths, eighths, and six-
teenth parts of our worms, to assume a head and tail :
this is so speedily effected, that in a few days, ail these
fragments are so many perfect insects, and after a few
weeks, attain to the same length as the entire worm.
New rings and new viscera unfold themselves : the pv.rls
re-produced differ in no respect from the ancient ones.
Tii us the machine is formed anew by its own strength ;
and the section, which might be a means of destroy-
ing them, serves only to make them conspicuous.
I have not yet sufficiently treated of this particular.
The six and twentieth part of worms, to wit, perfect
atoms, are able to re-integrate themselves extremely
well; and in the space of some months, are found to be
worms of several inches in length. In these living atoms,
as well as in the most considerable fragments, the circu-
lation seems to be performed with the same regularity
as in the whole worm : each atom has its little heart,
and we may clearly perceive that this little heart is no
other than a very small portion of the grand artery of
the worm, whereof the atom was before a part
\Ve may weary ourselves in cutting the head off the
same individual ; we shall have the same task to repeat
continually, because there always shoots forth a new
151
one : we may even cause several to issue at the same
time, each of which hall have their proper functions.
There is another species of these worms, amongst
which the property of becoming again entire is confined
in verv remarkable Jjounds. It forms a head or tail in
the middle; hut if it be cut into three or four parts,
the intermediate ones push forth a tail where a iiead
should have been produced : this supernumerary tail,
which is in no respect deficient, cannot perform the office
of a head, and the unhappy insect is condemned to pe-
rish with hunger.
9. Look into this rivulet, whose bottom is covered
with broken pieces of plants : What do you perceive
upon them ? spots of inouldiness. Do not mistake ;
this mouldiness is not what it appears to be; and you
already begin to suspect so : you think that you greatly
ennoble them by advancing them to the rank of vegeta-
bles ; you conjecture they are plants in miniature, that
have their flowers and seeds, and plume yourself on
being able to judge of these mouldinesses in a different
manner from the vulgar. Take a magnifying glass :
what do you discover 1 some very pretty nosegays, all
the flowers of which are in lells. Each bell is support-
ed by a small stalk, which is implanted in a common
one ; you now no longer doubt of the truth of your
conjecture, and cannot be persuaded to quit this mi-
croscopic parterre: you have not, however, sufficiently
observed it. Look stedfasliy on the aperture of one of
these bells ; you will there perceive a very rapid mo-
tion, which you cannot be weary of contemplating, and
which you compare to that of a mill : this motion ex-
cites little currents in the water, that convey towards the
bell a multitude of corpuscles, which it swallows up.
You begin to doubt whether these bells are real flow-
ers; and the motions of ttie stalks, which appear to be
spontaneous, increase your suspicions. Continue your
observations: nature herself will teach you what you
ougiit to think of this singular production, and will fur-
H 3
•!!
fcisft you witlt fresh motives for. adii?-: • :!;"!y
of her ways. That is a b_'ij \viiicii <:, df from
the cluster, and that tloa'ts aloi to tix itself to
soiTie S5«p\;< rt : lollow.it. A - -vies from
its evtreiijiy ; and the bell
this pedicle : k lengthens, and 1 a little si
It is iio longer a nosegay >ou are behold
gle flower. , Redouble your ;\ttf j
T cJ at the most interesting moment oi bisection : the
ll^vveris closed, h;isviobt its form of a bell, and assumed
that of a bud. You, perhaps, suspect that this bud b
some fruit, or a seed that has succeeded to the fiower :
lor you ure loth to give up }oui jr:st coijeclure. Do
not lose sight of t!j;s bud: it is ir. : >i^t
£ ia at present sup-.
j. :i \* .'.!» Wo i>u.ds, less UiHii the first. Kxamme what
j s in both of them : they widen themselves insen-
s ly, and you. perceive a motion at the edge of tije
which increases in suiftuess in proportion as
tiie • i/u<i unfolds itself. The niil appears a^ain; and
the two tuds have assumed the form of a bell. Can a
fruit, which changes into iiowers, be a real fruit? Can
such flowers be real flowers] that swallow little insects.?
Sn?p< ml >our observations, and lepeat them a few hours--
hence: yrui flowers are closed up as the first was.; yovu
easily guess that they will .sepai ate themselves as before,
aftenvaids open, and present. ^ou with, four bells. That.
is already effected, and >ou have a little nosegay, com-,-
posed of lour flowers: if you continue year inspection^,
\o-ti will see them augment in bnik by new divisions
into two's, arid soon after you will count sixteen, thirty-
two, sixty-four flowers. Such is the origin of this mi-
croscopical parterre, which at first drew your attention :
Low much inoi^e admirable does it now appear than you
then conceived it to be ! Wjiat a group of wopders
does a single spot of mouldiness afior.d ! What unfore-
seen, varied, and interesting scenes, are .tran-acted -on a
scrap of rotten wood! What a theatre does it exhibit.
to a thinking being! But onr abode. is so rechibe, that
we have but a glimmering vitw of it; how great would
citf ravishment .bo, if, the whole spectacle disclosing if~
tfelf at once to us, we should be enabled to penetrate
into the interior structure of this wonderful assemblage
of living atoms ! Oivr blunted eyes discover only .the
most hti'ikmg parts of them 5 they only apprehend the
gross parts* of the decorations, whilst the machines that
execute them remain concealed in impenetrable cjark-
ness! Who shall enlighten ibis profound obscurity?
Who shall dive into this abyss-, where reason itself is
lost? Who draw from thence the treasures of wisdom
and knowledge coac'ealed within if? Let us learn to be
content with the small portion '-communicated to us, and
contemplate with gratitude those first traces of human
understanding impaired to us, towards a world, placed"
at such a great distance from its.
10. You cannot quit this spring, from whence you
have derived so many truths, that are so astonishing :
you discover in it other microscopical animals, whose
form resembles that of a funnel. These a-e likewise
polypuses. They do not compose a cluster ; but cleave
to some body by their inferior extremity; you are cu-
rious to know their method of multiplying. In order
to this, place your microscope on one of these funnels.
Of a single funnel, thi?re are formed two by a natural
division ; Jjbut very different from that of bell-polypuses ;
so far has nature thought fit to vary her proceedings
with respect to these animals. Examine wh?t passes iu
the middle of the funnel'. A transverse and oblique
stripe indicates to you the part where the polypus is*
•about to divide itself. The division then is made slop^-
jogiy. The stripe points out the edges of the new iun-v
Del, and' these are only the lips of the freish polypus.
You discover in them a pretty slow motion, which helps
you to discern them. They approach each other iijsen-
sibly, the body collects itself by degrees ; a little swell-
jug forms itself on the sHe, which is a new head. You
already clearly distinguish two polypuses placed above
each other. The upper polypus has the ronyier i;tsad
and a new tail; the inferior one a new head and the
H 4
151
former tail. The upper polypus is connected with the
other only by its lower extremity. By a motion it gives
itself, it is at last detached from the other ; and floats
aw«y in order to fix elsewhere. The inferior polypus re-
rnauis fastened to the place where the funnel was before
the division.
11. Net-polypuses likewise derive their name from
tine exterior form of their bodies ; they pretty nearly
resemble that of a fishing-net. They assemble in groups,
m-d fasten on all the bodies they meet with in fresh
\vuter. They are very transparent. In the inside of the
polypus there is formed an oblong and whitish body,
as soon as it is formed, it descends by degrees, shews it-
self on the outside, and remains fixed perpendicularly
on the polypus. It produces new ones every day ; and
the group they compose on the exterior part of the po-
lypus, increases in growth. If these minute bodies he
eggs, they are of a singular species; they are absolutely
without any covering, and are neither membraneous or
.crustaceous. We cannot a&irm of these eggs, that
young are hatched from them, but are under a necessity
of acknowledging, that these little oviform bodies un-
fold themselves. This developement is accomplished in
a fevt minutes, and the polypus becomes the same as its
mother : imagine to yourself a bird that should issue
from its mother's belly, entirely naked, rolled together
like a ball, whose members should afterwards display
themselves, and you will have a representation of the
production of net-polypuses.
12. Cluster-polypuses propagate by dividing in the
middle : arm polypuses do not multiply in this manner.
They bring forth their yo:mg almost as a tree shoots
forth its branches. A little bud appears on the side of
the polypus. Do not suppose that this bud contains a
polypus, as the vegetable bud comprizes a branch : it is
itself the polypus in its growth. It increases in size
and length, and at last separates from its mother.
\Vhilst it is united to her, they both compose one body*
155
as the branch with the tree. You are to understand
this in the strictest sense. The prey which the mother
swallows, passes immediately into her young, and im-
parts the same colour to it. So that the whole consists
of one little bowel in a great extent. The prey which
the young one seizes (for it fishes for it as soon as it has
arms) passes in like manner into the mother. They
nourish each other reciprocally.
There is scarcely any polypus without buds. All of
them therefore are so many polypuses, or so many shoots
that grow on a common trunk. Whilst they are un-
folding, they themselves send forth smaller shoots, and
these smaller still. They all extend their arms on both
sides. You think you are beholding a very bushy tree.
The nourishment received by one of these shoots, is
soon communicated to all the rest, and to their common
mother; the chief of the society and the members are
one. The society is dissolved by little and little, the
, members separate themselves, are dispersed, and each,
shoot becomes in its turn a little genealogical tree.
Such is the natural method by which the arm-poly pus-
multiplies. It may also be multiplied by slips-. There
is no need to mention, that when it is cut in pieces,
each piece in a short "time becomes a perfect polypus,
it were better to say at once, that the polypus, after be-
ing cut into small pieces, rises again from it$ ruins, and
the little fragments yield as many polypuses. Being
cut either in length or width, this extraordinary animal
is reproduced in the same manner, and the sources of
life are equally inexhaustible.
13. But the following is what fable itself has not pre-
sumed to invent : bring to their trunk the heads that
have been struck off, they will reunite to it, and you*
will restore to the polypus its head. You may also, if
you think proper alh'x to it the head of another polypus.
The mutilated parts of the same or different polypuses,
when placed end to end,, will unite in like manner,
and form only a single polypus.
What have I hitherto said? There is scarce any mi-
U 5
156
raele tliat may not b'e performed by means of the poly-
pus ; but miracles, when multiplied to so great a degree,
hardly appear to be such. A polypus may be introduced,
by its hind part into the body of another polypus. The
two individuals unite, their heads become ingrafted into
each other r and the polypus, which at first was double
is converted into a single polypus, that eats, grows and
multiplies.
I have compared the polypus to the finger of a glove:
this finger may Ue turned inside out :. so may the poly-
pus likewise, and being so shifted, can fish^ swallow, and
multiply by slips and shoots.
It will be easily believed that the polypus does not like
to remain thus shifted. It makes an effort to regain its
former position, and frequently succeeds either in part,
or altogether. The polypus, which is partly turned back,
again as at £rst is a real Proteus, that assumes all kinds-
of forms; which are all equally strange. Endeavour to re-
present to yourself the polypus thus turned again. You
remember that the insect is made in the form of a boweL
One part of rhe bowel then is turned backwards on ti e
other; it there fastens and engrafts itself. In ihat case
the polypus is as it were doubled. The mouth encom-
passes the body like a fringed girdle; thi? arms are the
fringe. They then point towards the tail. The fore-
part continues open ; the other is usually shut up.
You expeet no doubt to see a new head and new arm*
to grow out of the fore-part ; which you have observed
in all the polypuses that have been divided transversely.
But the polypus combines itself a thousand different-'
ways, and each combination has its consequences,,
which experience alone can discover to you. The fore-
part closes itself; it becomes a su pern nine vary tail.
The polypus, which at first extended in the right line, is-
curved more and more. The supernumerary tail
lengthens every day. The two tails resemble the feet
of a pair of compasses. The compasses, are partly open.
The ancient mouth is at the head of the tampasses.
This moiii h which is fastened to the body, and em-
braces it like a ring, cannot discharge its Functions.
What then must become of the unfortunate poljpus.
15?
with two tails and without a head? Ilrvw will it be able
to live? Do you think that you have htkcn nature at un-
awares? You are mistaken. Towards the upper part of '
the polypus, near the ancient lip, there are forming not
only a single mouth, but several ; and this polypus,
concerning \vhich you enquired a minute ago how it
could exist, is now a species of hydra with several heads
and mouths, and devours with all these mouths.
14. What a multitude of physiological truths, that
were unknown to us iu the vegetable kingdom, has the
crw2-polypus alone unveiled to us? How do -these truths
appear as paradoxes, aad yet how evidently are they
demonstrated ] Who can doubt now that there exists an
animal, a very animal, since it is extremely voracious,
whose young grows like branches, and which being cut
to pieces and actually minced, regenerates anew in all
its parts, and evert in the smallest fragments, that may
be grafted by approximation or itioculation, turned in-
side outwards like a glove, afterwards cut, turned back
and cut again, without ceasing to live, devour, grow,,
stud multiply.
It was not a fit season therefore to m&ke. general rule?,,
to arrange nature, establish distributions, form systema-
tical orders, and to raise an edifice, which future ages,,,
better instructed, will even dread to project, We have
scarce any knowledge of the animal, when we would
undertake to define it. Because our knowledge is at
present in some measure improved, shall we presume to
think we thoroughly know it? Polypuses have asto-
nished us, because on their first appearance there was
uo idea in pur brain analogous to them, and we had ••
taken great pains to discard from it the very possibility
©f their existence. How many animals are there * that
are even more strange than polypuses, and that would
confound all our reasonings, could we discover them?
t would- be necessary on that occasion to invent a new
anguage, in order to describe our observations. Poly-
puses are placed on the frontiers of another universe*,
that will one time or other have its COLUMBUS'S aod-
ft 6
158
VESPUTTUSES. Shall we imagine that we have pene-
trated into the inferior parts of the continents, because
\ve have taken a slight view of some coasts-at a distance ?
We will form to ourselves more exalted ideas of nature;
we will consider her as one immense whole, and will firmly
persuade ourselves that what we discover of her is but
the smallest jjart of what she contains. Having been
heretofore astonished, we will forbear being so for the
time to come, but will continue our observations ; we
will amass fresh truths, connect them it' we are able, and
be in expectation of evt'ry discovery, because we will
continually say, that the known cannot serve as a model
for the unknown, and that models have been varied ad
infinitum. Cluster-poly puses multiply by dividing them-
selves ; who can tell but that there may one time or
other be discovered animals, that instead of dividing
themselves, may unite together, and join themselves to
one another, in order to compose one single animal 1 Or
who knows whether the multiplication of such an animal
may not have as, an essential condition, the consolidation of
several animalcules in a single one] We say that an ani-
>nal must have a brain, a heart, arteries, veins, nerves, a
stomach, &c. These are the ideas we have deduced
from large animals, and we carry them every where
with confidence. We act herein like a French tra-
veller, who should expect. to find in the Terrce Aus-
trales the modes of his own comitry, and that would
be greatly chagrined on being disappointed. The
sminral kingdom has also its Terra* Austrates> in which
probably it is not customary to meet with a braki, a
heart, a stomach, &c. Why do we desire that nature
•should always condescend to form one animal with the
elements of another? She might indeed be constrained
so to do, did not her fecundity surpass that of our poor
conceptions? But the HANI>, which has formed the po-
lypus, has demonstrated to us, that IT can, when ne-
cessity requires, animali%e matter at a much less expence.
IT has descended by almost insensible degrees from those
great organized masses we call quadrupeds, to those mi-
nute organized bodies we stile insect ; and by gradual
and skilfully contrived subtractions, it has at length re*
159
duced animality to her smallest terms. We are unac-
quainted with these smallest terms. The polypus,
simple as it appears to be, is without doubt very much
compounded, in comparison of such animals as are
placed beneath it in the scale. It is, if we may be al-
lowed the expression, too much an animal, to be the
last term of animality. We know that the brain is the
principle of the nerves, that it filtres the spirits ; that the
nerves are the organ of feeling ; that the heart is the
primum mobile of circulation ; that the veins and ar-
teries are the dependencies, all this we have seen in
great animals, we have again to our surprise found it in
insects: though under different forms: we were thus ac-
customed to regard these various organs, and some
others, as essential to the animal. The polypus, how-
ever, exhibits to us nothing similar ; the best miscro-
scopes only discover to us an infinite number of small
disseminated seeds in its whole substance ; and the un-
foreseen experiment of its shifting, sufficiently proves
that there is nothing in its structure common to that of
animals before known to us. Were we not capable of
imagining, that an animal had been endued with the pro-
perty of being propagated and grafted like a plant, it
would have been much less possible for us to suspect that
there had been granted to it tire power of being turned
inside-out like a glove. The arm-polypus, is neverthe-
less a perfect animal ; its voracity is excessive ; it devours
all the little insects that liappen to touch if, and seizes
them with such skill, as seems to give it an affinity to
hunting animals. The cluster-polypus, quite differently
constructed, has not the saiue advantages, but has rela-
tive ones: it can excite a rapid motion in the water
which brings towards it those living corpuscles it feeds
upon. There are undoubtedly many animals that are
still much more disguised than the cluster -polypus, and
by not affording us any exterior sign of animality, leave
us fora long time uncertain of their true nature. When
a lull of such a polypus is detached from it and fixes
it b\ its short pedicle to any support, should we be apt
to consider it as an animal production : has not the gall-
insect been takeu for a real vegetable gall-nut by suck
160 ..
observers, as had not seen it in its primitive state ? fs
not the pond muscle deficient in many things viejfrdge
to be necessary for the ai imal ? How many shell-fish are
still farther degraded ? Kay more, there may probably
exist some animals, which it would be impossible for us
to acknowledge as such, even though (heir whole struc-
ture, as well internal as external, should be laid open
to us; the reason is, that judging only according to our
present notions, we cannot deduce from- this structure the
opinion of life,
15. t cannot yet quit this subject, We are not able
to conceive all the methods by which the AUTHOR of
nature has given life and sensation to a prodigious num-
ber of different beings. Let as jud«e of them at. least
by a comparison of a small number of animated beings
ive are acqamted with. How greatly does life differ in
the ape and bell polypus 7 What intermediate degree*
are there betwixt these two terms? Perhaps there ar«
still more from, this polypus to the last of animals. I
do not examine if souls have been varied like bodies;
but I conceive thht organized matter has been modified
infinite wa\s, to which have corresponded as many dif-
ferent methods of participating life and sensation. I
likewise conceive that the same soul, if placed succes-
sively in all the organized bodies that exist, would suc-
cessively experience all the possible modifications of life
and sensibility* This soul would pass through all the
degrees of animality ; and if she could remember them
all, and compare them, she would equal the superior in-
telligences in knowledge. She would contemplate our
world through all those glasses that have been given to
the various beings that inhabit it.
16. Let r.s draw a general consequence from all this :
that analogy, which is one of the great lights of physics,
is not caj iiyle of dissipating the shades of it. This light
is freoti er:tly .extinguished on the approach of certain
l*od:es which we. bring to the touch of experiment. To
what purpose does analogy serve in the examination of
ihe £&/£-polypus] \Ve cannot even define these lulbs;
161
3'ul does the name we give them express any thins more
than mere appearances] How can analogy enlighten us
concerning the nature of these minute bodies, ami the
m inner by which they are engendered and, ingender,
whilst she offers nothing to us 'either in the vegetable or
animal kingdom,, which bears the least relation to these
productions, so different from all those that were known
to us? I affirm as much with regard Jo the natural divi-
sion cf the bells, and of the shifting of the arm-poly-
puses. Thi> is an entire new order of things* which has
its particular laws, w*iich we should in all probality he
able to discover, could we find some means of penetrat-
ing into the secret mechanism of these little beings. We
should then discern all the sides by which they are con-
nected with other parts of the orgariical world.
17. When we consider in a general view the compo-
sition of men and quadrupeds, we shall presently dis-
cern that there is with respect to all of them the same
foundation of structure, differently modified in different
species. In order to be convinced of this, we need only
east our eyes on those anatomical plates, in which are
represented the skeletons of divers animals that have
been dissected. From man, the ape, and horse, to the
squirrel, weasel, and mouse, we shall see throughout the
same design,, the same arrangement, the same essential
relations, except iii a few particulars. The spine, which is
formed of a series of parts, joined to each other as by so-
many hinges, bears to its upper extremity a sort of bony
box, of greater or less extent. Some bony arches,
which on one side are connected with the spine, and on-
the other with a part opposite to it, form another more
spacious box. The upper and lower extremities are
joined likewise to the spine by different interposed bands;
and maintain the body in those various attitudes its exi-
gencies require. This economy is so general iy ob-
served, that it has even been remarked that the verte-
brae of the neck are seven in number in all the species.
Almost the same order is to be met with in birds and-
fishes* It varies more and more in reptiles, shell fish,
and insects. The latter however have their bones, se-
162
veral parts of which seem to imitate the corresponding
ones in great animals; but whereas among the latter
the flesh covers the bones ; on the contrary, among in-
sects the bone covers the flesh. In this numerous class
of little animals, nature has in an especial manner
diversified her models the most, and displayed the
wonderful fecundity of her inventions. In the large
parts of the animal kingdom she pretty nearly pursues
the same plan o( architecture, and hardly diversifies any
thing but the orders. In one we beheld the strength
and majesty of the Tuscan', in ethers the elegance and
delicacy of the Corinthian. But when she descends to
insects, she seems entirely to change her plan, and to
retain as little as possible of her first models. She
seems at length to abandon them altogether in her
formation of an arm or ^//-polypus. She constructs
plants on still different models; but these models retain
in them something of the organization of animals, and
particularly that of insects. The organs of respira-
tion are almost _the same in the plant and insect.
Those parts which are essential to life are dispersed
throughout the whole body of the plant, as they
are in insects, that are reproduced by slips. Those
plants which appear to be most elevated in the scale, ex-
hibit to us a stalk, branches, roots, leaves, flowers, ami
fruit. A swine-bread, ai> agaric, a liver-wort, OB the con-
trary, are so extremely disguised, and have in them so
small a resemblance to plants, that it is necessary to have
the eye of a strict observer, in order to know and charac-
terize them. These half vegetable productions, if I may
be allowed the phrase, seem, in the vegetable kingdom
to be what the gall-insect, polypus, and the muscles are
in the animal. They do not appear to be more organized
than an amianthus, a talc, or a crystal.
IS. The distance however is much greater from
the most regular fossil, or that most resembling a vege-
table, to the plant in the least degree so, or that is the
least organized. The fossil does not grow, properly
speaking : it does not receive nourishment, nor engender.
4
163
It is formed of the successive apposition of different
molecules, which, by uniting together under certain re-
lations, determine its figure. The plant is a body truly
organized, which of itself works the molecules, destined
to incorporate themselves with its substance, and to ex-
tend it every way, and contains little bodies resembling
it, which it nourishes, causes to expand themselves,
and by means of which it multiplies its being : nature
then seems to make a great chasm in passing from the
vegetable to the fossil, &c. There are no bands,
no links, hitherto known to us, which unite the vegeta-
ble to the mineral kingdom. But shall we form our
judgment of the chain of beings by our present degrees
of knowledge? Because we here and there discover in it
some interruptions, some void spaces, shall we conclude
from thence that they are real 7 Shall we imagine that a
comet has split the scale of our world, and destroyed the
harmony of it 7 We are only beginning to survey the
vast cabinets of nature ; and amongst that innumerable
multitude of various productions which she has as-
sembled, how many are there which we have not so
much as seen, and can frame no idea of their existence]
Shall we hasten to decide concerning the result of these
productions before we have examined them all, or
formed an exact list of them 7 The vacancy we suppose
left between the vegetable and mineral, will in all pro-
bability be one day supplied. There was a similar void
betwixt the animal and vegetable : the polypus now fills
it up, and sets in a conspicuous light the admirable gra-
dation there is among all beings. It is true we cannot
form any mean idea betwixt the plant and the fossil ;
we do not imagine there is any shadowing between
growth and apposition ; but had we formed any con-
ception of the properties of the polypus ? If those
marine productions, which have been called stony
plants, were real plants, they were in some measure one
of the links requisite for uniting the vegetable to the
mineral kingdom ; but late discoveries have informed
us, that these pretended plants are oisly works of certain
polypuses, that have the art of cou&iructiug cases for
16*
themselves. Those coral flowers, so irmdi celebrate, f5
were real polyuusses, • and this is Another truth-
wherewith tiie polypus Iras enriched tire- physical
world,
15). Organized bodies a re' tissues Avfricii are" more or
less fine pieces of net-work, or* pieces of stuff, whose
iv&rp itself forms the woofi b\ an art which we should
think v.t: could .never enough admire, were we acquaint-
ed "with it. Fossils are 'A kind of iulaid work: we do
not know- where the orpani/atioil ends',, nor which is
its- smallest term: but by ceasiv.g to organize, nature
i^es not cexise to dispose or arrange : she even seems
to organize when she has made an end of'doinjj so. One
would be ready torhnagiot* thafj^&nH/j^nd leawd stones
svere vegetables in pasjt disguised. The constant re-
gularity of salts and crystals ; -strikes us in an equal de^
grce. We may be -assured that the crystal is formed of
the repetition of an infinite number of small, regular,
and pyramidal bodies, properly laid on each other,
which represent, in some measure, the whole exactly in
miniature. We should, notwithstanding; be very much
mistaken were we to consider these little pyramids as
the germ of the crystal;, it is, strictly speaking, no
more than an element; or constituent particle of it : it-
does not unfold hself, it remains, as it was; but it
serves as a support tp other similar 'pyramids which are
to be joined to it, and 'thus to augment the crystaiine
mass by successive aggregates. The crystaiine juice Is
Hot received, wrought, and assiiHfi&ted by strainers or
vessels tlytt are snore or less fir.e, or more or less
folded together, within the pyramid;, it is a Irea/lj en-
tirely prepared when it procures the union of different
iijolecules. into one pyraniulal vnas^, Ly virtue oF the
laws of motion and attrartion. This is- the primary
character which d
bodies, a character wkich we oughi never to ;
t> t w hen we co n t|>are tc^e 1 1 1 € r be s^ stf
£0, Tb'js the bodies of giants and animals are
165
«f looms, machines more or le*s compounded,
convert into the proper subsjfancif of the plant or animal*
the various matters subjected to the action of their springs
and liquors. These machines, which are so superior iir
structure to those of art, seem still more so when com-
pared, iu their essential effects, Those matters which
organical machines work, they likewise assimilate and
incorporate with themselves; they grow by this incor-
poration, augment in their dimensions every way, and
during their growth, all their parts preserve among
themselves the same; relations, the same proportions, the
same exercise ; all continue to discharge their proper
functions: the machine remains, in its extended state,
what it was in miniature. It is a system, a wonder-
ful assemblage of at* almost mrmiie number of tubes,,
differently formed; calibered, and interwoven, that like
so many fiitres, purge, fashion, and refine the nutri-
tious matters. Each Ebre, — what am I saying? each
fibrilla is itself a machine in miniature, which, by
performing analogous preparations, appropriates to it-
self the alimentary juices and gives them the arrange-
ment suitable to its form and their functions. The
whole machine is in some measure only the repetition
of all these lesser machines, whose united strength con-
spires to the same general end. The excellence of
orgaiiical machines appears, in a conspicuous light,
-from other still more striking instances: they not
only produce, from their own foundation, machines-
similar to them, but a great number of them repro-
duce of themselves those parts they had been deprived
of, which various parts become afterwards as many
machines, equally perfect with.. those whereof they be-
fore only made a part.
21. To conclude: the same general design comprizes
all parts of the terrestrial creation. A globule ot light,
a molecule of earth, a grain of salt, a particle of moul-
<jiness, a polypus, a shell-lish, a bird, and a quadruped,
man, are only different strokes of this design, and re-
present all possible moditicatiotts of the mutter of QUJ.V
166
globe. My expression falls greatly beneath reality:
these various productions are not different strokes of
the same designs, they are only so many various points
of a single stroke, that by its infinitely varied ciicu invo-
lutions, traces out, to the astonished eyes of the che-
rubim, the forms, proportions, and concatenation of all
earthly beings. This single stroke delineates all worlds,
the cherub himself is a point of it : and that ADORA-
BLE HAND which drew this stroke, alone possesses
the method of describing it.
167
CHAP. IX.
Continuation of Animal Economy considered
Insects.
1. AN the seventh chapter you have seen the earlh+
worm regenerate ; you have contemplated the progress
of this regeneration ; you have remarked a little b id
that grew at the fore-part of the stump, which, unfold-
ing itself by degrees, became a vermiform appendage, a
kind of little worm, that seemed to be engrafted on the
stump.
This animal bud has discovered to you the first
origin of the part that is reproduced. You have per-
ceived that it was lodged in miniature under the fleshy
parts of the stump, and that the latter does not con-
tribute more towards this production than the earth
does to the plants that have taken root in it..
Thus «he earth-worm contains, like the polypus, a
multitude of germs, which begin to unfold themselves
as soon as certain accidents convey towards them the
nutricious juices. The sources ot reparation are here
in proportion to the accidents that may threaten the
animal. But the reproduction of the earth-worm is much
more astonishing than that of the polypus : it is not
only au enormous colossus in comparison of the poly-,
pus, byt its structure is also much more compounded.
It affords a more numerous aparat us of visceia, vessels,
trachac, muscles, &c. It has real blood, and tnis blood
circulates. But it is besides an Jiermaphi odite ; it
unites at once all the organs peculiar to the two sexes.
This insect, which in appearance is the most contempt]-
blc, would alone be sufficient to exhaust f'je saga c fry
of the ablest observer, though applying himself solely
to the contemplation of Jt, Vviiat a gainer would
physiology be from such an enquiry ! What a number
or {ruths, concerning which we should have no doubt,
\vouid then augment the treasures of our physical
knowledge !
5?. The regeneration of fresh wafer 'worms presents
«s wiih the same phenomena as that of the earth-worm,
and liicir structure is likewise very much compounded*
Se\eral species of them are principally distinguished by
their colour: all of them do not possess, in the saifte
degree, the property of multiplying by slips. In gene-
ral, the } •••^atly surpasses them in this respect ;
^perhaps, becfcUne its structure is, more simple; and it
may also be owing to its having a more ample provi-
sion of germs. Be that as it may, when we cut off the
head or tail from the worms we are treating of, they
•do not themselves become worms, but all, or the great-
est part of the intermediate pieces, how small soever
they be, very easily regenerate themselves, and in a-
ghort time produce an equal number of complete'
worms.
Regeneration begins by a little puffing up of the an-
terior extremity ; this purling seems analogous to the
vegetable roll : the wound closes, and quickly conso-
lidates: a little bud appears in the cent re of the roll :
this bud increases in size and length by degrees. New
/ings and new viscera begin to appear. You see from
the rest what is to follow.
You also very easily comprehend after what manner
each piece vegetates of itself : it has in miniature the
same viscera as the whole exhibited at large. You have
not forgot that the parts essential to life are here dispers-
ed throughout the whole body, and that circulation is
performed in the smallest pieces as in the whole worm
Little buds, or tubercles, sometimes rise on the
< bodies of these worms, and give room to think that
they are young ones growing irom them ; slips, re*
1GD
";.Iir.£ tho.se of tk, ':ie same origija
..and end.
This sjwcies of \vonn, from ceriai >. pieces of which
;i tail shoots forili hi iJ)o pat* .where a head should
have been pr> I, Is a very singular pheno-
menon, ..which thi1 frequency of it .does not permit us to
..consider .ts die im-ie cilect .of chaace. !t also pro-
ceeds less from chance than the production of this
i nu , er. ry tail. It is . too well organized not to
have the same origin- as that which shoots forth at the
.?rior extremity : but we cannot pretend to say
what are tbe causes which here determine a tail to take
the place of a head: we only know, that this kind of
-V/orm is very much exposed to the loss of its hind
part; it is. therefore, in ail probability, furnished
, \vith more means for repairing this loss, than that of
. Jhe'fore part.
3. It would seem as I: , ' (re 'hatl proposed to her-
self a kind of diversion in the formation of insects:
she has lavishly bestowed on them members and or-
gans, v.lrich she has distributed but spa ringly to other
ajiimals ; to one she gives two bimdred hjgs, to another
-twenty thousand eyes, to a third several hundred lungfe,
&c. The production of new tegs, new rings, a new
head, and a .new viscera, seem in these instances to be
attended with no greater labour or ditticulty than the
production of new hairs or uew' feathers.
xShe often likewise disguises the same insect, and pre-
sents it to us successively under such opposite forms,
that they seem to compose so many distinct beings :
this leads us to the metamorphosis of insects.
4. We have had frequent occasion to acknowledge,
• that the proceedings of nature are not always uniform,
and that she can accomplish the same end by very dif-
ferent ways. Look at this little oblong, black, smooth,
and shining cone : it most resembles those coues which
many insects construct to-metaniorphose themselves in :
however, it differs from them in some essential parti-
170
eulars. View it through a microscope, you will then
perceive in it some annular incisions, but not very deep,
which discover to you its true nature, and at the same
time informs you, that it is nothing but the skin of a
worm which has become round, and has contracted a
hardness. Open it gently with the point of a needle,
you find nothing in it but a kind of pap, in which you
are able to discover nothing. The insect has but lately-
lost its form of a worm ; how has it been reduced into
that soft substance 1 How will that become an insect?
Suspend your questions, and open a cone that is less
recent than this. What do you discover in it? A little
mass of oblong, whitish flesh, in which you cannot per-
ceive, even through a magnifying glass, the least signs of
members or organs. In a. word, you have before you
an oblong bail. Do not imagine that this ball is a
case that contains a nymph, it is itself a nymph that is
much disguised. Press the hall a little : the legs begin
now to shew themselves ; they come out of a little
socket, that is at one of the extremities of the ball.
Augment the pressure by degrees, you will force all the
parts of the nymph to appear : they therefore exist
already, but they were sunk and infolded within the ball,
almost as the fingers of a glove might be in the hand of
a glove.
If you could make the same experiment on the ovi-
form bodies of wef-polypuses, and on the huds of arm-
polypuses, that you have lately made on the oblong ball,
you would probably oblige the little polypus to produce
itself, and by that means accelerate the time of its birth.
5. Insects that pass through the state of an o b long
bail can therefore form themselves a cone of their own
skin. All the parts of the nymph separate themselves
by little and little from this skin ; it grows round and
hard about them : and under this singular arch they
make an end of perfecting* themselves : they are at
first only of the consistence of a pap : this thickens by
degrees; it assumes the form of an oblong ball, and
when all the members of the nymph have acquired a
1-M
*orrTaiti consistence, they issue one after another from
the inside of the b<ni, and arrange themselves like tliose
•of other nymphs.
By becoming a kind of cmie, the skin of the insect
does not lose in all the species, the form that was pro-
per to the worm ; some of them preserve it so Well,
that the metamorphosed worm scarcely differs at alt
from the worm that has not been yet transformed.
6. A lien that should lay an egg as large as herself,
iron; whuh a cork or a hen would be hatched, may
offer to us such a prodigy, as we should find some dim-
tulty in believing. A fly that is troublesome to horses,
and whose form has caused it to be named the spider-
jiif, affords us such a prodigy ; and it should not seem
the lehs strange because it takes place only in an insect;
\Yere there a law in the organical kingdom, to which
we knew no exception, it would assuredly be that
which ordained every organized body to grow after its
birth. Nevertheless, here Is a fly that lays a species of
egg, from which is produced another fly as large and as
perfect as the mother. This egg is almost round, white
at first, and afterwards of a black or ebony colotir. The
shell is tirm and polished — but 1 rausl undeceive my
reader : this is not a real egg, but has only the ap-
pearance of one ; it is the insect itself that has assumed
the form -of an oblong bail in a cone made of its own
skin. The thing s not the less wonderful on that
account. All insects that metamorphose themselves go
through their various transformations, out of the belly
of their motl-er. They are, indeed, to grow considera-
bly before they undergo their ikst transformation, but
do not grow at all afterwards. We have thtn an insect
ti at trans for ms itself in the very belly of its mother,
and acquires no farther growth after it has issued
from it.
These cones of the spider-fly, these pretender] eggs
h-'ve beesi opened at different limes, and in them have
been found the same things that are discerned in the
MoTtg £a //-nymphs, when observed at their $ftereiit
VOL. IV. I
172
ages. Moreover, there have been discerned stigmata in
this species of cone that might be taken for a real egg,
which is an evident proof that it was the skin of a
worm that has transformed itself under this very skin.
An egg is without motion : our cone has some that are
very visible, and, in certain circumstances, the inside ad-
mits of their being seen, which attracts the attention of
the observer. He seems to discern little clouds that
succeed each other without interruption, and that pass
with a progressive and uniform motion, from one end of
the cone to the opposite one. In the cones that are
laid before the time, these shadowy layers have a con-
trary direction from that which they have in the cones
at the full time. You have seen that the circulation
varies its course in the nymph : since our shadowy
layers change their's likewise, they pretty clearly indi-
cate to us, that the abortive cone is the worm itself,
that has not yet gone through its metamorphosis : this
worm is, in truth, a .yery singular being; it has neither
head, mouth, nor any member : it is, in appearance,
nourished like the eg£s of birds, in the trunks that en-
close them. A nice dissection demonstrates the ovary
of the fly, and the worm lodged in the middle.
7. When animals were divided into viviparous and
oviparous, it was thought that all the species were com-
prehended. The vine fretter came first to clash with
this famous division, and convinced us that an animal
was at the same time viviparous and oviparous. The
<zr?H-polypus next appeared, and presented us with an
animal, that, multiplying by slips, might with good rea-
son be called ramiparous. There have even been ob-
servations made which seem to prove that it is likewise
oviparous. Another species of polypus, that multiplies
also by slips, and is extremely well characterised by a
sort of plume, lays real eggs. These eggs may be pre-
served in a dry place for the space of whole months like
seed of silk-worms; and if afterwards sown in water,
there will be produced from them as many polypuses.
The bulb-polypus may be depicted by the epithet of
4
173
lulliparous. But how shall we describe the multiplication
of other cluster-poly puses, that of the7u^-polypuses,and
of the milJipes 1 Lastly, the spider-Jly presents us with
another method of multiplying, in which there is no-
thing that is common with any of those above-men-
tioned, and Which is attempted to be expressed by the
term of nymphiparous. How many other methods of
propagating will there be discovered every day for
which it will be necessary to create new terms ?
8. One animal does not differ more from another
than a worm from a nymph. And what renders this
metamorphosis still more surprising is> that it seems to
be performed instantaneously.
What then is the procedure of nature in this respect 1
She, in other instances, advances by degrees. An in-
sensible developemerit brings all organized bodies to a
state of perfection. Can this law, which is so universal,
suffer any exception ? A fact which I am going to relate
will help us to penetrate this mystery.
Let us confine ourselves to caterpillars ; they ar6
sufficiently known to us, since the silk-worm is a real
caterpillar. The caterpillar from time to time changes
Iris skin, and that is common to him and most oilier in-
sects. These moultings are termed maladies in the silk-
worm, and they are so in effect. But it is very material
to observe, that the skin which the caterpillar casts oft"
at each moulting is so complete, that it seems to be of
itself a real caterpillar. There is found in it a head,
eyes, a mouth, jaws, legs, armed with hooks, stigmata,
and generally ail the, external parts proper to the
insect.
How is the caterpillar enabled to divest itself of so
many organs, and clothe itself with new ones resembling
the first 1 Nothing can be more simple than this : new
organs were lodged in the old ones, as in so many cases
or sheaths. In changing its skin, the caterpillar had
occasion only to draw them away> and drew them away
accordingly, because the cases proved too strait.
This jointing is so real, that it may be perceived by
I 2
17*
2he naked eye. „ It may even be demonstrated by ..a
very easy experiment. If on the approach of the
moulting, we cut off I lie former legs of the caterpillar,
she will issue from her spoils without any legs at ail.
Tims this caterpillar, which we considered as a simple
and singular bein.sr, was in some measure a multiplied
being, or composed of several similar beings jointed into
each other, and that successively unfold themselves.
£). Hence arrises a very probable conjecture : may
not the chrysalis be lodged under the last skin the cater-
pillar is to cast off? May not this skin be a mask that
conceals it from our sight ?
A celebrated observer has, by a decisive experiment,
assured himself of the truth of this conjecture : he has
removed the mask, and lias, by tii& means, discovered
the chrysalis in a manner very easy to be distinguished,
He has seen the six legs of this chrysalis* to grow out of
the six former legs of the caterpillar, and ail the other
members of the latter to be wrapped together under dif-
ferent parts of the former.
The metamorphoses of insects, then, enter anew into
the order of developements, and confirm it. The
.chrysalis, or rather the butterfly, for it is in the strictest
sense but a swaddled butterfly ; the chrysalis, I say,
pre-existed in the caterpillar. It does no more than un-
fold itself in it, and the caterpillar is a kind of machine
prepared for ptfriorjulng afar oft' this developement. It
is in some icspects/Co the chrysalis, what the egg is to
the chick.
10. In truth, an insect that must moult five times be-
fore it is invested with the form of a chrysalis, is a
compound of five organized bodies, enclosed within
each other, and nourished by common viscera, placed
in the centre.
As the bud of a tree is to the invisible buds it en-
closes, so is the exterior part of the caterpillar newly
hatched to the interior bodies it conceals in its bosom*
four of these bodies have the same essential structure*
175*
and this structure is that which is peculiar to the insect
in' the state of a caterpillar. The fifth body, which is
very different, is that of the chrysalis. The respective
stak- of tlu'se bodies are in proportion to their distance
from the centre of the animal. Those that are the far-
thest oil have more consistence, or unfold themselves
soonest.
WiK-ji the -exterior body has attained its full growth,
the interior, which immediately follows, is considerably
unfolded. It soon finds itself lodged in too narrow a
compass : it stretches on all sides the sheaths that en-
compass it. The vessels which convey the nourishment to
these coverings being broken or stifled by this violent
distension, cease to act. Ti«c skin wrinkles and n:!es
up : at length it opens, and the insect appears clothed
with a new skin and new organs.
A fast of "a day or two precedes each moulting. It
is probably occasioned by tiie violent state in winch all
the organs then are. Perhaps it might be also neces-
sary, in order to promote the success of the operation,
and prevent obstructions: be this as it may, the insect is
Weak after every moulding: all its organs a^e yet af-
fected by 'the state they were in under the covering they
are just disengaged from. The scaly parts, as the head
and legs are almost entirely membraneous, and are all
imbued with a liquor that insinuates itself betwixt the
two skin*, and facilitates their separation. But this
moisture evaporates by degrees : all the parts acquire a
consistence, and the insect is in a condition to act. The
first use that some species of caterpillars, which live
only on leaves, make of their new teeth, is to devour
greedily their spoils ; sometimes they will not even
wait for doing it till their jaws have received their full1
degree of .strength. Can these spoils be a proper ali-
ment to renew and increase their strength? Some
caterpillars have likewise been seen to gnaw the shells
of their eggs after they have issued from then), and'
even that of the eggs of such caterpillars as. have not
been hatched.
176
II. When we have once conceived that all the exte-
rior parts of the same kind are jointed into each other,
or laid one on another, the production of new organs
has nothing embarrassing in it ; and with regard to this,
there is not any essential difference betwixt the five
jfnoultings that^ precede the transformation : nothing
more is requisite in all that but a simple developement.
But it is not absolutely the same, with respect to
changes that happen in the viscera before, during, and
after the metamorphosis. Here the light that should
guide us is almost extinguished, and we are constrained
to grope in the dark.
It does not appear that the insect changes its viscera
as it does its skin. Those which existed in the cater-
pillar, exist likewise in the chrysalis : but they are mo-
dified, and it is the nature of these modifications, and
the manner by which they are performed, which elude
our researches.
A little before the metamorphosis, the caterpillar re-
jects the membrane that lines the inside of the intesti-
nal bag. This bowel, which has hitherto digested gross
food, must hereafter digest that which is extremely de-
licate : the blood that circulates in the caterpillar, from
the hind part towards the head, circulates a contrary
way after transformation. If this inversion be as real
as observations indicate, what idea does it not give us
of the changes the inside of the animal experiences]
Those, which the circulation of the blood in a new-born
infant undergoes, are in a manner nothing in comparison
of them.
12. Whilst nature is labouring to change the viscera,
and to give them a new life, she is employed, at the
same time, in the developement of divers organs, which
were useless to the insect while it lived under the form
of a caterpillar, and which the new state whereunto it is
called renders necessary for it. The better to insure
the success of her different operations, she causes the
insect to fall into a deep sleep, during which she carries
on her work at leisure, and by insensible degrees,
177
The little wounds, which the rupture of several ves-
sels has occasioned in divers parts of the inside, consoli-
date insensibly : those parts which had been put into a.
violent exercise, or whose forms and proportions had
been modified to a certain degree, conform themselves
gradually to these changes. The liquors, which are
obliged to pass through new channels, take that direc-
tion by little anil little. Lastly, the vessels which were
proper to the caterpillar, some of' which occupied a con-
siderable place within it, are effaced, or converted into
a liquid sediment, which the butterfly rejects afier hav-
ing l;vid aside the sheath of the chrysalis.
13- When we consider the metamorphosis of insects,
we are surprised at the singularity of the means which
the AUTHOR of nature has thought proper to make
choice of, in order to bring the different species of ani-
mals to perfection.
Wherefore is the lutterfty not bred a butterfly?
Why does it pass through the state of a caterpillar, and
that of a chrysalis] Why do not all the insects that
metamorphose themselves undergo the same changes ?
Whence does it happen, that amongst the species that
assume the form of a nymph, some shed the skin of the
worm, whilst others retain it? How does it also come
to pass, that among such insects as pass through the
state of tTre worm-skin nymph,, some take that form hi
the very belly of their mother ]
These questions, like all those which may be started
concerning Essences, derive their solution from the gene-
ral system which is unknown to us.
Without endeavouring then to penetrate into the
cause of metamorphoses,, let us observe attentively the
fact, and its immediate consequences.
Let us consider the variety which those metamor-
phoses disperse throughout nature: a single individual
unites within itself two or three diffe rent species. The
same insect successively inhabits two or three worlds :
fend how great is the diversity of its operations in these
various abodes !
14
Iff,
Let us also roimik to what dearee the relations
which the fly or butterfly maintains viith the beings that
surround UtcJTi, arc multiplied by their metamorphosis.
Let us fix our attention on the cone of the siik-vvorin ;
and admire what a uwiiher of hands and njachir.es this
little ball sets to woik. What prodigious riches should.
ve have been deprived of, had the butterfly of the
s;lk-\\orm been originally produced in that form !
Insects that undergo transit rnustions, have not ye
afforded us any species that multiplies by slips and-
shoots. This will not surprise us, when \ve reiiect on
the great composition of the bodies of these insects*
But let us not be too hasty in our judgment, nor con-
clude that the properly of multiplying by slips and
shoots is incompatible with metamorphoses. Nature is
too little known to us, to give us a right to form such
conclusions. Vine-frettersand polypuses have furnished
us with good preservatives against too general con-
clusions ,
179
CHAP. X.
Parallel between Plants and Animals,
1. JLN our researches into the gradual progression of
beings, and orgauical economy, we had frequent occa-
sion to compare vegetables and animals with each
other. Let us here collect, in one view, those various
marks of analogy which are scattered hither and thither;
let us represent them- as in a picture, wherein, by a>
nearer description of them, they will agreeably attract
our attention. We will afterwards enquire, if there be
any character which essentially distinguishes the vegeta-
ble from tne animal.
2. A seed is an organized body, which, under various
coverings, thicker or thinner, and more or less numer-
ous, contains within it a plant in miniature. A whitish
substance, of a spongy nature, fills the capacity of the
seed : small vessels, which proceed from the germ, are
in every part of this substance, dividing and sub-dividing
it. After being laid in the earth, moistened ami warm-
ed to a certain degree, the seed begins to shoot up :
the moi ture, which has penetrated its outward folds,
dissolves thy spongy substance, and mixes with it. Of
this mixture is formed a kind of milk, which being car-
ried to the embryo by the little vessels, furnis es it
with a nourishment adapted to its extreme delicacv.
The radicle, or little root, begins,, by this means, to un-
fold itself; it increases in bulk and extent every day.
In a short time it becomes sensible of too-- close a con-
finement: it makes an effort to come forth. A small
orifice, made in the exterior surface of the seed, facili-
1 5
istf
'fates its egress: the root insensibly sinks into the earth,
and derives from thence more substantial and copious
nourishment. The small stalk, which, till this time, lay
hid under the coverings of the seed, now begins to shew
itself; the teguments unfold themselves, in order to ad-
mit a free passage for it: strengthened by an accession
of fresh juices, it pierces through the earth, and ud-
Tances into the air.
3. An egg is an organized body, which, under divers
teguments, of various strength and number, incloses an
animal in miniature. A fluid matter, of a glutinous na-
ture, fills the inside of the egg: a number of infinitely
small vessels spread themselves out in this matter, and
, are connected with the germ by different branches.
Being warmed in a sufficient degree, either by nature or
art, the inside of the egg begins to receive life : by means
of a gentle heat, the matter surrounding the germ insi-
nuates itself into the small ramifications, from whence it
passes into the heart, whose motion it augments; thus
the animal becomes a living creature. It increases in
.size and strength every day, by receiving fresh supplies
of more nourishing and perfect juices: after these juices
are exhausted, the animal has acquired all the growth it
was capable of in the egg. It finds the apartment as-
signed it to be too narrow : it endeavours to set itself at
liberty. T^atnre 1ms provided it with an easy method
of affecting this, either by arming it with instruments
proper for piercing or tearing the coverings which in-
close it, or by giving to the egg such a structure as fa-*
Yours its efforts : the animal is produced, and enjoys a
new life*
4. The seed then is to the plant what the egg is to
the animal. But the plant is not only oviparous, but
likewise viviparous; and the fetus is the same with re-
spect _ to the animal, as the bud is to the vegetable.
Being concealed under the rinfl, the bud there re-
ceives its first growth. It is minutely inclosed in mem-
braneous teguments, analogous to those c>f the seed ; it
181"
adheres to Ilie bark by small fibres, which transmit a
nourishment to it, adapted to its state. When it has
arrived to a certain bulk, it penetrates the rind in order
to come forth : at its first appearance, it bears the in-
folding coverings along with it, from which it is soon
released. However, being as yet too feeble to subsist
without the aliment provided by the mother, it conti-
nues to cleave to her ; and cannot, for a long time, be
separated without endangering it.
Being lodged in the matrix, the fetus there receives
its first growth. It is there contained at first in minia-
ture, in the membraneous inclosures resembling those of
the egg : it shoots forth small vessels in the matrix,
which convey thither the nourishment necessary to pro-
mote its growth. When it has arrived to a certain size,
it bursts these inclosures, and comes into the world :.
sometimes these inclosiures accompany it at its issuing
forth. After it is produced, the little animal is not al-
ways able to provide for itself without the assistance of
the da.m : she must still furnish it with sustenance,
which it cannot dispense with the want of for a certain
time without danger.
5. The plant is nourished by the incorporation of
substances received from without: these matters are
very heterogeneous.. Being pumped by the pores of the
roots, or by those of the leaves, they are conveyed into
the utricuLi, where they ferment and digest ; they pass
into the ligneous fibres, which transmit them to the
proper vases, where they appear under the form of a
juice, which is more or less coloured. The ramifica-
tions of the proper vases afterwards distribute them into
all the parts, to which, they are united by new filtra-
tions.
Tubes made of a silvered blade, which are elastic* ,
and turned spirally like a spring, accompany the ves-
sels which contain the sap, in their course. Being ap-
pointed for the purpose of respiration, these tubes in-
1 6
182
fe a fresh elastic air into the plant, .\vlrirh" prepares
and subtilizes the sap, and probably colours it, besides
contributing to its motion : the superfluous matter, or
that part which is not so proper to be mixed with the
plant, is conveyed to the surface of the leaves, whence
,it evaporates by an insensible, but very copious transpi-
ration. Globules, vesicles, or other excretory organs,
which are distributed among the young shoots or' leaves,
procure an evacuation of the grosser matter, and such
as is of a stronger consistence.
The animal is nourished by the incorporation of ID at-
ter which proceeds from without: this matter is very
heterogeneous. Being received by the mouth, it is con-
veyed into the stomach.-- and intestines, where it under-
goes different preparations: it passes into the lacteal
veiris, and their dependencies, or in other like vessels*,
whereby it is transmitted into the blood-vessels, where
it appears under the form of a fluid, more or less co-
loured, or flowing. The ramifications of the blood-
vessels afterwards disperse it into all parts, with \vhich
it incorporates iiself by new preparations.
Pipes composed of cartiilaginous rings, or of a silvered
and elastic blade, turned spiral-wise, communicate wit ft
the blood-vessels, or follow them in their course. As
they are appropriated to respiration, they introduce
to the animal a fresh and elastic air, which prepares, at-
tenuates, and probably colours tiie blood, contributing
likewise to its motion. The superfluous matter, or
such part of it as is improper to be united with the ani-
mal, is carried to the surface of the shin, from whence it
evaporates by an insensible, but very copious transpira-
tion. Glands, or other emunctory organs, placed in
different parts of the body, procure the evacuation of
the grosser matter.
6. The plant grows by unfolding, or the gradual ex-
tension of its parts in length and width : this extension
is followed by a certain degree of hardness, contracted
l>y the fibres. It diminishes as the hardness increases:
3
183
it entirely ceases when the fibres are so far hardened as
not to yield to ilie force which tends to enlarge their
surface*
The plants which become hardened the latest, are
those which are the longest time in growing. Her /is
'grow and harden faster than trees: some of them cease
lo grow at the end of a few weeks, or even a few days.
Among the last, some continue to grow fon a great
number of years, and even for ages.
We observe analogous differences between individuals
of the same species : some harden sooner, grow in a
less degree, or continue smaller ; others harden later,
and become larger.
The bud has nothing ligneou$ or woody in it : being
hvrlaceoitf in every part of its substance, it becomes
ligneous by degrees. Its stalk is formed of a prodigi-
ous number of concentric blades one in another, which
are disposed according to its length,, and compose dif-
ferent bundles of fibres, which are themselves formed
of a prodigious number -of lesser fibres.
At the centre of the stalk is placed the pith ; and the
spaces which aie left between the blades, are likewise
filled with a pithy substance.
From the thickness of the blades results its growtli in
width ; from the lengthening of the blades its growth ia
Jen<,- Lii proceeds: all the blades grow and harden one
after another: every blade grows and hardens alike suc-
cessively throughout its whole length. That part of
every blade which grows and hardens first of all, is
that which composes the base of the stalk: the blade,
which grows and hardens first is the Innermost, or that
which immediately encompasses the pith. This blade is
again covered with another, which being more ductile,
extends itself the more : a third blade incloses this last,
which, as it hardens still later, is a longer time iii its
growth : the case is the same with regard to a fourth,
fifth, or sixth. All these, thus diminishing ia thickness,
and inclining towards the axis of the stalk as they ap-
proach its upper extremity, form so many little eoues
engrafted into each other, from whence proceeds the
conic figure of the stalk and branches.
From the assemblage of little cones which become
hardened during the first year, is formed a cone of a
woody nature, which determines the growth of that
year. This cone is inclosed in another herbaceous cone,
which is only the rind, and which, the following year,
will produce a second ligneous cone, <tc. : when the
wood is once formed, it does not extend itself any far-
ther; so that in cicatrices, grafts, and different kinds of
tumours, the rind is the only part that is employed. By
stretching, thickening, or swelling itself the rind insen-
sibly forms a roll, and produces excrescenses which are
more or less considerable, in proportion to the ease with
which it is distended, or according to the quantity of
juices it receives.
7. The animal grows by expansion, or by the gra-
dual extension of its parts in every sense : to this exten-'
sion there succeeds a hardness in the fibres* The ex-
tension diminishes as the hardness increases. It ceases
when the hardness has arrived to such a pitch, as not to
admit of the fibres giving way to the force which con-
tributes to enlarge their couts.
Those animals in which this hardness is formed latest,
are longest in their growth. Insects grow and harden in
a much less time than great animals. Some of them
cease growing at the end Of some weeks, and sometimes
in a few days : of the latter some continue growing for
a great number of years, and even some ages.
One may observe analogous differences in the growth
of individuals of the same species; some of which, that
harden later than others, acquire a greater bulk.
The fetus, in its original state, contains nothing of a
bony nature. As it is membraneous throughout, it only
becomes lony by degrees. The bones are composed of
a prodigious number of blades, folded in each other,
lying according to the length of the bone, and forming
various collections of fibres, which are themselves com-
185
posed of the re-union of a great number of little
fibres.
In the centre of the bone is placed the marrow.
The spaces left between the blades are filled with a me-
dullary substance.
From the thickening of the blades the growth of the
bone proceeds, from the lengthening of them, their
extending in length : all these blades grow and harden
after one another : each blade grows and becomes hard in
a like successive manner throughout its whole length.
That part of the blade which grows and hardens first, com-
poses the body of the bone, which immediately encloses
the marrow. This blade is again covered with a second,
which, being more ductile, stretches itself in a greater
degree. A third blade again infolds this, which, as it
hardens later than the others, is a longer time in its
growth. It is the same with respect to a fourth, fifth,
or sixth. As they all thus diminish in thickness, and
detach themselves from the axis of the bone, the nearer
they approach to its extremities, they form so many
little columns, infolded within each other, which in-
crease in diameter at their extremities, From hence
we deduce the figure peculiar to long bones.
The growth of the bone during the first year is at-
tributed to the number of blades which become harden-
ed in that year. This bone is covered over again with
a great number of membraneous blades, that bear the
name of periosteum, which, as they gradually extend
and harden, conduce to the increase of the bone in every
part of it. The bone, when it is once formed, extends
itself no farther.
Thus, in fracturest anchyloses, and the different
species of excrescences, whether natural or accidental,
the periosteum is the only part of the bone thajt labours.
By stretching, thickening, and swelling itself, the peri-
osteum restores the bone, insensibly, produces a callo-
sity, and forms greater or less tumors, in proportion to
the facility wherewith it extends itself, or as it is more
or less supplied with juices, or with such as are more or
less viscous.
186
8. The dust or fine powder of the s lamina is the prin*-
ciple which fertilizes the seed. The pistil is the place
where this fecundation is performed.
Being, contained in certain vesicles, the fecundating
dust is discovered in them by a microscope, under the
appearance of a group of urinate, regular bodies, for
the most part of a spherical or elliptic form, which1,
being moistened, open themselves,. and emit a thin va-
pour, in which there floats a great number of exceeding
small seeds, which stem to move on all sides. The
dust itself, when, put into a drop of water, moves several
ways with great rapidity.
The pistil is composed of three principal parts, the
lose, the cups, and the top. The base contains one or
more cavities, where the grain is lodged. The cups are
long tunnels, whose base or aperture i* turned towards
the top : This is generally furnished with several nipples,
each of which isperforatedj having their diameter cor-
responding witJi that of a small gram of the dust.
Being in the lower part of the cup, the minute
grains are pressed in them more and more by the
straituess of these pipes: they are therein moistened
with a juice that lilies their sides : they open them-
selves and eject the seminal vapour, which penetrates
to the seed, and promotes fecundation.
Several species of plants have two sorts of indivi-
duals : viz. 1, Such individuals as only bear stamina,
and these are males ; and two individuals that have
only thepw/7/j which are females.
In a great number of species every individual is- an-
hei^apkrbdite+vvbidn unites both sexes, the stamina-anil
the pistil. Sometimes this union happens in the sj'me
flower, tften the stamina surround the pistil : at other
times it is only effected on the same lianch ; so that
the stamina are placed- oh one part, and the pistil, on
another.
£). The seminal liquor is the principle of fecundation
187
in the r-^ : the matrix, or ovaries, arc the places where
it is performed.
Being enclosed in the seminal vessels^ the fecundating
li<]iior appears in them, through a microscope, like a
mass of small regular bodies, of different lengths, which
seem to separaie themselves hito a great number of
extremely minute grains, moving different ways. Some-
limes these corpuscles resemble cases \vith springs,
whichj \vhen moistened, open themselves and dart
forth a limpid matter, abounding with a great number
of very small grains. ^t
The matrix consists of three principal parts,, or de-
pendencies; the Jundus, or bottom, the fallopian tubes,
and the ovaries. The Jundus contains one or more
cavities, in which the embryos receive nourishment and
expand themselves : it has an orifice in the fore part.
The iallopian tubes are a kind of long funnels, whose
aperture is directed towards the ovaries, where it-
ends. The ovaries are a mass of vesicles that are
real eggs.
When the most subtle part of the seminal liquor has
arrived through the iallopian tubes to the ovaries,,
it there fecundates one or mote eggs. These after-
wards descend by these tubes into ihe matrix, wh re
they are fixed and unfold themselves. In oviparous fe-
males the eggs are contained in a kind of bowel, where-
in they receive their growth ;. the seminal liquor makes-
them fruitful.
Most animals consist of two sorts of individuals, male
*\\1\ female ; but there are other species, of which every
individual is an heiwaphrodile., which unites the two,
although it cannot fecundate itself. In some species,
where a distinction of sexes is observed, there is no
coupling, properly so called : the male oni> communi-
cates his liquor to the eggs which the female has depo-
sited. Finally, some species are propagated without
any apparent or external fecundation,
188
10. A plant does not only multiply by seeds and
buds ; it is likewise propagated by suckers and sprigs.
It may also be multiplied by slips and by engrafting.
A tree sends forth small buds from various parts of
its surface : these buds increase in bulk, they open and
disclose the shoat, which extends itself every day.
While it is expanding itself, other still smaller sprigs
shoot from it : these, in their turn, are succeeded by
lesser ones, all of which are so many trees in miniature;
and tlr* nourishment received by one of these sprigs is
communicated to the whole plant.
When it has attained to a certain size, and is sepa-
rated from the trunk either by nature or otherwise,
these shoots sustain themselves and become so many-
distinct trees. Being cut into pieces according to their
width, or even their length, these shoots will grow
again of themselves and will become as many trees as
they were made slips of. The leaves themselves, when
separated from their shoots, may afford so many com-
plete plants. Being fastened closely to each other, or.
inserted in one another, several of these shoots, whe-
ther taken from the same or from different individuals,
will unite together in so intimate a manner, that they
wii! receive reciprocal nourishment, and form one indi-
vidual whole.
The animal is not only propagated by eggs and
living young, but likewise by shoots. It may also be
multiplied by slips and ingraftings. A polypus send*
forth little luds from different parts of his body. These
buds grow big and lengthen insensibly : every one of
them is a young shoot : while it is unfolding itself,
there springs from it other smaller shoots : these, in
their turn, produce smaller still. AH these shoots are
so many little polypuses, and the nourishment one of
these polypuses receives, is communicated to their
whole number, When they have arrived to a certain
size, -they separate themselves from the trunk, and be-
come so many individuals.
189
Being cut into little bits, either transversely or lengt h-
wise, the polypuses grow up again from the ruins, and
become as many complete ones as they were pieces.
The very skin, or even the least fragment of them is ca-
pable of affording one or several polypuses.
11. The generation of vegetables is not constantly re-
gular : the laws by which ttjey operate are sometimes
infringed : from them arise various species of monsters :
sometimes they are compounded leaves, whose smaller
ones are more or less numerous, or more irregularly
shaped, or distributed with less symmetry than usual.
Sometimes there are flowers which have neither stamina
nor pistils* and whose petals being greatly multiplied,
seem to have absorbed these essential parts. Sometimes
two fruits cleave together by a natural graft, or are en-
closed in each other. Sometimes there are flowers or
fruits whose form differs widely from that which is pe-
culiar to the species. Lastly, There are productions
which do not properly belong to any particular species,
because they derive their original from seeds that have
been fecundated by dust of a different species.
The generation of animals is not constantly regular t
the laws by which it is governed are sometiities disturb-
ed ; whence are produced the different species of mon-
sters. Sometimes there are hands and feet, whose
fingers or toes are fewer or more in number, or formed
in an irregular manner, or otherwise disposed than usual.
Sometimes there are fetuses, in which the parts of genera-
ti&n are obliterated. Sometimes there are two eggs or
two fetuses that cleave to each other by a natural co-
hesion, or that are contained in one another. Some-
times there are eggs or fetuses whose form is greatly
different from that which is peculiar to the species.
Lastly, there are productions that partake of two species,
because they are produced from such females as are fe-
cundated by males of different species.
12. The laws respecting the nutrition and growth of
vegetables are liable to greater disorders than those of
190
generation. From hence are derived the different1' Sincls
«>; wviS^dies the plant is subject to. Some of these
w<J adits only attack the leaves,' and produce on them
sfots of different colours, wrinkles t pustules, scabs :
others attack tbe principal viscera, uii'] occasion c/ioak-
ings, obstructions, stdgnttf forts, tumours, cancers, effusion $
o« hers lake 5 heir sc/ 1 in the jlmver or Jju-il ; others
afreet the H.gnevus bodirs, wJiicli tiiey ciuise to moulder
away, \vliitt the bark remains Whole ; others come
lYo;n III tie plants or divers- insects, which being on the
outside or inside- of vegetables-, convert their noiii.-
ine-ijt to their own bdvanttfge^ or change the organiza-
tion of it. O i hers derive \heir origin from a change of
eLiuctte, ai.ment, or culture.
The laws of the nutrition and the '<rrowtli of animals
are more freqnentiy disturbed than those of" generation.
From hence proceed the various species of disorders to
which an animal is exposed : among these maladies,
there are some which attack only the skin, and produce
spots of various colours, wrvikles^ pustules, pimplts '•
ofhefs attack the principal bowels, and occasion oppres-
sions, obstructions, stagnations, tumours, alscesses, over-
ft(ywings\ others are sealed in the organs of generation:
others'seize the bones, and beget rottenness- in them,
whilst the periosteum continues sound: others have
their source -from different injects which, being lodg-
ed cither without or within the animals, divert the
nourishment of them to their own benefit, or alter the
constitution of them : others are caused by the change
ot climate, nourishment, or breeding,
13. Finally, the plant, after having escaped a variety
©f maladies which threatened its lite, cannot elude the
effects of old age, that creeps into itj nor the stroke of
deaik, the inevitable consequence of ifc Being harden-
ed by. time, the vessels .lose their exercise, and are
stuffed up : the liquors contained in them no longer
move with the same facility, nor continue to be filtrated
and pumped out with the same precision: they stagnate
and corrupt, and this con nptkm, behig s6on conm*
Ifl
LJ to Ike vessels that enclose them, the vital func-
«i:>ns ceiite, the plant dies, and crmuUles into dust.
Liictly, the animal, after having been preserved
from those diseases which conspired against- him,
.cannot escape old age, nor death that follows in his
train.
When the vessels ur.e grown hard through time they
lose their action, and are stopped up. The liquors do
cot. circulate in them with the j^rue. degree of quickness,
and they are 'filtered and pumped up but in a very im-
.perfect manner. They stand still and are altered, and
.this alteration soon communicating itself to the vessels
that contain them, circulation ceases, the animal dies,
.and is reduced to dust.
11. We .have carried the parallel between plants and
animals from their birth to their death. The parts of
Otthich they, consist very evidently establish the great
antilogy there is betwixt these two classes of organized
.bodies.
But there are other sources of comparisons we have
either avoided to dwell upon, that we might not render
our description coi;fused, or have only slightly touched
upon ; under certain ,points of view. Such are those
presented to us, by plat-a, number, fecundity, form,
structure, circulation of liquors, loco-motive, f acuity,
feeling, and nutrition.
We will take a transient survey of these sources, and ,
M'ithoul endeavouring to exhaust them, content our-
selves with barely pointing out their most remarkable
and characteristical contents.
Vegetables and animals reside in tl>e same dwelling-
place. Being appointed to people and adorn our globe,
they are dispersed over i\< whole surface, and are placed
•lieareach other, in order ?o enable them to afford a re-
ciprocal assistance. Like two great trees growing in the <
same soil, the animal and vegetable kingdoms eutvvine
192
their branches together and extend tkeir boughs and
roots to the extremity of the world.
The outside and inside of the earth, mountains and
rallies, barren and fertile places, countries undiscovered
and hid in dark obscurity, the regions of the north and
south, rivulets, rivers, ponds, lakes, and seas, have their
vegetables and animals.
Many species of plants and animals seem to thrive
alike in different climates. Other species are amphibious,
and live as well out of the water as in it. The bulrush
midfrog flourish in meadows, and at the bottom of
ponds. Others are parasites, and are nourished by the
juices they extract from different species. Such are the
misletoe and the louse.
Lastly, Some parasite species supply their necessities,
in their turn, from other parasites. The misletoe lias
his liverworts, and certain lice have their lice.
15. There are upwards of twenty thousand species of
plants known to us, and new discoveries of them are
made every day. A microscopical botany has extended
the dominions of the ancient. Mosses, mushrooms, liver-
worts, whose families are innumerable, now take place
amongst vegetables, and present the curious with flowers
and seeds which before they were unacquainted with.
The microscope discovers plants to our view, where we
never suspected them. Free-stone is often covered with
spots of different colours, commonly brown or blackish.
Glass, notwithstanding its fine polish, is not exempt
from such spots. We observe hoariness on almost all
bodies. These spots and this hoariness are found to be
gardens, meadows, and forests, in miniature, whose
plants that are infinitely small, afford us nevertheless
some prospect of their flowers and seeds.
But although vegetables are very numerous in their
species, yet they are much less so than animals. Every
species of plant has not only its particular species of
animals, but there are many species of plants which
nourish several species of animals. The oak alone
193
finds nourishment for above 200 species of them,
Some attack the roots of this 'tree, which they dig
into, and produce therein various tuberosities. Others
fix themselves in the trunk t where they make crook-
ed furrows. Some insinuate themselves into the bark
and wood ; whilst others penetrate the interior
parts, whence they extract the juice. Some feed only
on the leaves. Others fold or roll them up with a great
deal of art. Some form them into nuts. Others iind
both lodging and nourishment in the fruit. Nay, ga-
ther but a flower by chance either a daisy, poppy, or
rose, and you will observe on it a multitude of insects.
In short, where can we turn our eyes without behold-
ing animals ? Nature has strewed them every where
with a bountiful hand. They were her most excellent
productions ; she has been liberal of them. She has en-
closed animals within animals $ she has ordained one
animal to be a world for others, which should find
therein nourishment in proportion to their wants. The
air, vegetable and animal liquors, corrupt matter, dirt,
dung, dry wood, shells, and even stones, are all ani-
mated, all swarm with inhabitants. What do I say?
The sea itself sometimes appears to be one entire col-
lection of animals. The light, which glitteringly reflects
on it in the night-time, during hot weather, is prodaced
by an infinite number of very minute glow-worms of a
yellowish brown colour, and soft substance, not unlike
caterpillars, every part of which, after being divided,
and even putrified, shines with the same brightness as
when the worm was whole and living. A species of
sea-Jlies are also luminous, and communicate their lustre
to the waters. There issues from within them a globu-
lar matter, which is likewise phosphorous.
Herls are more numerous in their species and indivi-
duals than shrubs and trees. Insects are more numer-
ous, in respect to their species and individuals, than
lirds and quadrupeds. There are more ranunculuses
than rose-lushes, and more blades of grass than oaks,
19*
There are mure butterflies than fowls, and more vint*
fit tiers 'han dogs.
16. The magnificence of the creation slrines in no
part of it wiili greater lustre, .than in the prodigious fe-
cundity ot a great number of plants and animate.' One
single individual may give birih to thousands, or even
Uiiliiung of individuate like itself. Being formed agree-
able to those oioportions which are only known to tha«t
ADORABLE WISDOM that has established them, this
.great people ua» at first enclosed within the narrow
compast oi a rind or ovary. In ti-is dark abode they
receive l heir first; life, begin to grow, and a, e deposed
to appear on the vast theatre of the visible world.
If we consider things in a general view, vegetables
will be fc-uj'd to be more fruitful than animals. We
v-r conviuced of this, by comparing trees
\vnh quadrupeds.
Trees produce annual! v, sometimes for many ages,
<5nu'j their ^reductions are always very numerous. Large
quadrupeds, as the elephant, the mare, the hind, tlie
*&c. huve seldoiii jftore tjiau Ok-e at a time, rarely
tu<:, aiiii the nursiber tluy breed is always very mode-
rate. Leaser quadrupeds, such as the dog, the hare, the
cat, tlit rat, i • crease in a much gitater degree; but
their v is but inconsiderable, when compared to
tiiat of ligneous plants. The elm produces ye;.ily up-
wards o. ;hre«' hundred thousand seeds; and tins asto-
nishing multiplication may continue above a century.
Fix has and insects nearly resemble vegetables in fe-
cundity. A tench, lay I aboUl ien thousand eui»,s : <, carp,
twenty thousand : i-ud a cot/, a million. An insect .•-•eh
produces ti e itch, i: ys fi/ui or fixe thousand e^ga, , ic-
inale iw, tort y-n've er rifty thousand.
To this amazing fecundity is opposed that of the wild
195
poppy, mustard, Jern. And we must not forget, that
most vegetables are propagated different ways; \\ hereas
animals are for tl}e n>o:-t j>art propagated only by one.
.1
A tree may be made to form as many trees as it has
branches, boughs, and even leaves. Plants, which are
principally designed to supply the necessities of < limals,
cannot be endued with too great a degree of fecundity J
I/. There is hardly any sight more interesting, than
that which the infinitely varied forms of plants Lnd ani-
mals afford. If one compares the less perfect species
with more perfect, or the species of the same class with
each other, he is equally strurk with the diversity of mo-
dels, by which nature has performed her woiks in the
vegetable and animal kingdom1'. He passes with asto-
nishment from the swinslrcad to the sensitive plant,
from the mushroom to the carnation, from the night-
shade to the oak, from the ivy to t\icjir~tr;:c. He con-
siders with surprise the prodigious multitude of mi^h-
rooms and liverworts, and can never enough admire the
fecundity of nature in the production of these plants.
As he goes on to plants that are more elevated in the
scale, he stops with pleasure to examine those plants that
have stalks, from the grass which grows between the
stones to that precious plant, whose ear furnishes us
with the most wholesome food. He considers the vari-
ous plants that creep, from the tender bind-weed to the
vine branch which crowns our hills. He likewise takes
a survey of those trees which bear fruit with stones,
from the wild plumb-tree to the peach, whose fruit does
not excite our admiration more by the softness of its
velvet covering and beautiful colour, than by the abund-
ance and exquisite taste of the liquor it yields.
If from the vegetable, he transports himself into the
animal kingdom, the prospect becomes still more in-
teresting. He sees opposed to each other in the same
portrait, the polypus and tea-dog, the day -fly
VOL, iv. K.
196
Jish, the dancing-bird and eagle, the grasshopper and
flying-squirrel, the ar/£ and .r/Qg, the cricket and rhino-
ceros, the wood louse and crocodile, the scorpion and the
Another picture presents him with a view of the pro-
digious number of lu tier/lies and JZfes 5 in considering
which, he is astonished at NATURE'S complaisance in
thus diversifying these little animals, so different from
the great ones by their forms, and which have been
treated as defective or imperfect beings.
Transferring next his survey to those species of aui-
inals immediately higher, he contemplates shell-
Jish, from that whose precious liquor dyes the garments
of kings, to the sailor that rous with so much grace and
skill on the inconstant wave. He observes the different
species of fish, from tiie dangerous cramp-Jish to the
powerful nerval, and from the pretty golden-jish of
China to the dolphin, that cleaves the billow with the
swiftness of a dart
He likewise takes a review of those lirds that live on
herls or seeds, from the linnet, that delights us with his
melody, to the peacock that pompously displays in our
court-yards the gold and azure with which he is en-
riched". He also observes the birds of prey, from the
fierce merlin to the eagle, whose strength and courage
have raised him to the sovereignty over the birds. He
next reviews the quadrupeds, from the iiglit and timo-
rous hare to the elephant, whoje enormous corpulency
attracts every eve ; and from the wily fox to that noble
and generous quadruped which seems formed to have
dominion over the animal creation.
Plants, though prodigiously various in their forms,
yet are less so than animals. There are fewer grada-
tions from the truffle to the sensitive plant, or from the
nightshade to the oak, than there are from the oyster to
197
the ostrich, or from the sea nettle to the ouran-outang.
Plants, being essentially more simple than amuml % have
not given birth to so many combinations.
The forms of animals afford us a* singularity winch is
extremely remarkable, and sufficient to distinguish
them from vegetables ; I mean, those admirable meta-
morphoses which tho same insects exhibit to us, which
are sometimes so opposite, that it does not appear to be
the same animal.
But may we not compare the bud in which a plant or
flower is infolded, to the covering of a chrysalis which
conceals the butterfly from our si^ht ? And as the plant
cannot produce seeds till th«? t1«>wer has issued from the
bud, so neither can the butterfly propagate till it has cast
off the sheath of \\\& chrysalis.
18. It is not so easy to ecrnpr,^ pianfs and animal's
in their interior forms or structure, as it is in their ex-
terior. We may judge of the one by a single glance of
the eye : we must bestow a particular attention, to judge
of the other. We penetrate with greater difficulty, into
the inside of a plant, than into that of an animal. The
microscope, scalpel, and injections, which are so ser-
viceable to us in the anatomy of animals, assist us very
imperfectly in that of plants. It is likewise true, that
this part of organical economy has been less studied.
But how imperfect soever the anatomy of plants may
1>e, we are able to discover some of their principal vessels.
These may be ranged under two general classes ; the
longitudinal that extend the whole length of the plant,
and the transverse vessels, or such as are placed across
it. The sappy vessels and tr achaean belong to the first
class ; the utriculi, or insertions, to the" second. The
vessels containing the sap seem designed to convey the
juice. The utriculi, or little bags, appear intended for
digesting it.
Some plants seem to be entirely composed of utri~
K 2
198
culi : such are certain species of roots find sea-plants,
whose texture is almost together vesicular. It is the
same with those animals which seem to consist of
stomach only, as the polypus and type-worm.
One of the principal characters by which we may dis-
tinguish insects from large animals, is, that the former
have no hone within them. What they have of a bony
or scaly nature is placed on their outside for a support
or defence to the more delicate parts underneath, or to
sustain the body with greater advantage. Thus we see
that in almost all insects, properly so called, the head,
corslet, legs, rings', &c. are either wholly, or for the
most part doubly covered with scales.
Her Is differ from trees as insects from large animals.
They have no ligneous body in their centre. What they
have of a ligneous nature, appears on the outside, and
serves to protect the weaker parts of the plant. Thus
we find plants with tubes are strengthened by knots
placed at regular distances; so that tlie lowernff&t knoU
which are designed for the base, are stronger and nearer
each other than the upper ones. It is on the same ac-
count that the roots of many herbaceous plants, as well
as the calixes of flowers, and the capsules or coverings
of the seeds, are made almost ligneous.
Her Is grow and become hard sooner than trees. In-
sects than great animals. Herbs and insects, being of a
softer consistence than trees and large animals, extend
themselves with greater case, and sooner arrive at the
peiod of their extension. Besides, the concentric beds
of the bark of trees, and those of the periosteum of
animals, being far more numerous than the relative beds
of herbs and insects, must needs require a longer time
for their growth.
We may distinguish two kinds of parts in organized
bodies ; to wit, similar and dissimilar. The former
arc composed of libres of the same kind; the latter, of
199
fibres of various sorts. The nerves, arteries, veins,
lymphatic vessels are the similar parts of our bodies;
the brain, heart, lungs, stomach, the dissimilar. Plants
are almost entirely composed of similar parts. The
vessels containing the sap, the trachcea, and utriculi, are
of this kind. These different vessels are pretty mii-
ibnnly dispersed throughout the whole body of tiie
plant: they enter into the composition of all its parts.
They are to be met with in the root, stalk, branches,
leaves, flowers and fruits. The least fragment, the
smallest leaf, is a representation of the whole, an abridge-
ment of the plant.
There are likewise animals which are nearly composed
of similar parts. Of this number are many species of
long worm:-., ;ind some acquaiic millepedes, nettles^ and
sea-stars, polypuses, moths, earth-worms. Ail these
animals are i<>» uied in such a manner, that each part of
them, even the smallest, corresponds in miniature lo the
whole iri all parts.
In the long worms I just mentioned, we observe very
distinctly a s ..i;iach, a heart, and some very small ves-
sels which seem dependent on the latter. There is like-
wise no room to doubt that there is beneath the
stomach, a medullary string, like that observed in other
species of \ ;nus and caterpillars. Their viscera are
not distribu(<;vl into certain regions of the body ; they
are univei sally dispersed throughout its, whole length ;
so that we may truly aiiirm that these insects are all
brain, all stovuach, all heart. But this brain, stomach,
and heart, appear extremely simple : the first is scarce
any thing .norc thau a nervous piece of net-work, the
second a membraneous bag, and the third a grand
artery.
Polypuses, which are more simple iu their structure,
are only a kind of bowel, 'sown with an infinite number
of small seeds, which are tinged with the colour 01 the
aliment.
K 3
, : soo
Tape-wwms partake, of the structure of polypuses,
but seem to be more compounded, They are formed
of a chain of flat, membraneous, and whitish rings, jointed
logetlu-r like the divisions of a reed. Each ring has on
iis upper part, or on one of its sides, a more or less sen-
S'ble eminence, in the centre of which is a small round
aperture. The middle of the ring is full of vessels of a
purple or whitish colour, which perform a labour that
attracts the attention of the observer. The rest of the
ring is filled with an infinite number of small white
seeds. Such is essentially the structure of the tape-
worm in its whole extent ; there is no perfect variety or
resemblance between all the rings, the assemblage of
i\h*ch composes a kind of ribband or lace, which ex-
tends sometimes several hundred feet in length.
Earth-worms are, of all the insects I have mentioned,
those \\ hose inside seems to be the most compounded,
chiefly because-in them, the two sexes are united : but
the most essential organs of life are distributed in them
likewise through the whole length of the animal.
Organised bodies, whose structure is so simple and
uniform* that each part of them has in a small compass
an organization resembling that of the whole in a greater
extent, enjoy divers prerogatives that have been denied
to organized bodies of ^a more complicated structure.
The first of these are not destroyed when divided
asunder. Their different portions continue to live, and
the wounds which have been given to them easily con-
solidate. These parts vegetate, receive nourishment,
produce new organs, and multiply. Such wonders as
these the vegetables and insects we have lately treated
of exhibit every day : wonders which we have not suf-
ficiently admired in the former, and which perhaps we
too much admire in the latter.
Large animals do not furnish us with the same pheno-
mena. The consolidation of their wounds, and the re-
union of their fractures, although oftentimes attended
201
with circumstances which render them very remarkable,
strike us but slightly when compared with what we ob-
serve analogous in polypuses, and other insects that mul-
tiply by slips. The motions we perceive in certain parts
of great animals, when separated from the body, or after
the death of the animal, affect us only with a slender
degree of surprise, when we consider the motions of
different parts of worms, or those of some millepedes.
But may there not be some misconception in these
different judgments? We judge of the effect produced,
as considered in itself, and separate from the circum-
stances accompanying it ; whereas we should judge of it
with relation to the greater or less degree of composi-
tion whereof the body, in which this effect is produced,
consists. There is as much, and indeed more to be ad-
mired in the consolidation of certain wounds, or in the
reunion of certain fractures of our body, than there is
in the consolidation of the wounds of polypuses, or in
the reunion of parts which have been separated from
them. A very simple machine is easily repaired; a
machine that is extremely compounded, cannot be re-
paired with the same facility. When we reflect on the
prodigious number of similar and dissimilar parts con-
tained in the composition of the bodies of great animals,
and particularly in that of the human body ; when we
attend to the strict connexion of all these parts, and to the
degrees of composition in each of them, we cannot suf-
ficiently wonder that the various accidents which happen
to these bodies are not attended with greater conse-
quences; we shall at the same time perceive the reason
why they are not enabled to propagate like bodies whose
organization is more simple.
But independently of the greater or less degree of the
composition of parts necessary to life, as soon as these
parts are found placed in different regions of a body,
and are not dispersed throughout its whole length, such a
body cannot be multiplied by slips. The AUTHOR OF
NATURE, by denying, in his wisdom, this property to
K 4
SOS
large animals, by confining the sources of life in them
within a narrow circle, has secured them from harm by
many advantages. Compare the result of the motions
or actions oi a sea-worm with thai of the motions or
actions of an ape, and you will soon perceive which of
these animals has been most favoured.
Finally, organized bodies, to which a power has been
granted of multiplying by a method which seems to
tend to their destruction, are such as are exposed to tlie
greatest dangers, ancf whose life is necessarily threatened
every moment with a thousand various accidents.
19. Amongst the motions we observe in the animal
machines, that of the circulation holds the first rank,
either by its importance, or its nature, duration, and
the number of organs by me-an^ whereof it is performed.
There i» in $ his juotion »an ail of grandeur that seizes
fornU) i;u thi:rna.d, <i; -d which, by making it sensible
& the narrow 11s., .is *•; i.nman understanding, penetrates
it with the laosi ^n-buiid respect, and fills it with the
highest admiration of the INFINITE MIND which,
illustriously shi'nes in the DIVINE AUTHOR of it,
In the centre of the breast, between two spongy
masses known by the name of lungs, is deposited a
fleshy pyramid, whose base bears two small funnels like
ear-rings, which communicate with iv.o cavities con-
tained iu the inside of the pyiamid, and which divide it
according to Us k-ngth into two chambers or vejitricks,
the right ventricle a -<d the left. This pyramid is the
heart) the main spring of the machine. It has two
principal orders of muscular Jilre^ some of which pass
obliquely from the base to the point, others cut the lat*
ter transversely, From the exercise of these fibres two
opposite motions result ; one of dilatation, the other of
contraction, The heart seems to execute these motions
by turning on itself like a screw. Its point moves to-
wards or from the base, by rising or falling obliquely.
Two great vessels, viz. an artery and a vein, communi-
203
cafe with each ventricle. The artery,* which commu-
nicates with the right ventricle, conveys the blood to the
lungs. The vein/t which communicates wit'i -the same
ventiicle, forms the principal trunk of the veins, and
carries back the blood from all parts to the heart. The
artery, J which goes intft the left ventricle, is the chief
trunk of the arteries, and that which conveys the blood
to all parts. The vein,|| which ends at the same ven-
tricle, transmits to it the blood tkat has been conveyed
from the lungs.
The principle trunks of veins and arteries, are divided
into several branches at a small distance from the heart.
Some tend towards the upper extremities, others to-
wards tl>e inferior.
The arteries and veins decrease in diameter, and are
ramified more or less according to their distance from
their origin. There is no part to which these do not
distribute one or more ramifications.
When they have arrived at the most remote parts, the
arteries have au intercourse with the veins.
The arteries are composed of several membranes,
placed ou each other. The veins have similar mem-
branes, but more slender, and weaker. The veins were
j;.r«t designed to exercise the same power as the arteries.
These latter must necessarily, like the heart, and for the
same end, dilate and contract themselves : they have
therefore been provided with a very elastic membrane.
Tiie exercise of the veins should not be violent.
At the root of the arteries, and in the inner part of
the veins, are placed little sluices or valves, which by
sinking and rising again open and shut the caned. These
valves are deposited in the veins, in a contrary sense
from that for which they are in the arteries. We shall
presently account for the cause of this difference.
20. After having been masticated and dissolved in the
* The pulmonary artery, f The vena cava. J The grand rtrry,
or the aorta, H The pulmonary vein.
mouth and stomach, the aliment descends into the in-
testines, where it receives a new preparation by the mix-
ture of two liquors, one of which is furnished by the
liver, and is called the bile ; and the other by a species
of* gland situated under the stomach.
The aliment is thus converted into a kind of greyish
pulp, which has received the Dame of chyle. ^ Being
shifted from place to place by the vermicular or peris-
taltic motion of the intestines, and strongly pressed
against tiieir sides at the instant of their contraction,
the chyle penetrates into extreme small vessels,^ which
open themselves in the internal membrane of the intesti-
nal canal. These vessels transmit the chyle to very
small glands which are covered with a kind of mem-
brane | situated in the midst of the intestines, and round
which they are in a manner rolled. After being filtrated
in these glands, the chyle is received by other vessels, |[
which convey it into a concavity § placed along the spine,
and which pours it into a vein situated under the left
clevieie.- There it enters into the blood, and loses the
name of chyle. From this vein the new blood passes
into the upper branch of the principal trunk of veins,
which carries it towards the heart. It passes into the
right lobe, which opens at its approach, and by closing
immediately, forces it into the right ventricle which
is dilated in order to receive it. The heart instantly
contracts itself; the valves with which the ventricle is
furnished, raising themselves to oppose the reflux of
the blood into the lobe, it is compelled to pass the ar-
tery, which is appointed to carry it to the lungs. The
valves, which are placed at the entrance of this artery,
sink down; the artery dilates, and the blood advances
into the cavity. The valves rise again, and prevent its
return towards the heart. The artery contracting itself,
the blood is impelled farther, and by these alternate di-
The pancreas and pancreatic juice, t The primary lacteal veins*
\ The mesentery and mesenteric glands.
H The secondary lacteal veins. § The thoracic duct.
205
latations and contractions of the vessel, it is combed
to the lungs, where it runs through every part of them.
The ramifications of the trachce* which are dispersed
in the viscera, carry thither a fresh and elastic air, which,
by acting on the lungs, dilates, winds them about, ex-
tends and opens them, and by that means facilitates the
course of the blood into the smallest ramifications of the
artery. Besides, being impregnated with this air, the
blood becomes thereby attenuated, is cooled, and re-
ceives a more lively co-lour. After its arrival at the ex-
tremities of the artery, it passes into that of the pulmo-
nary vein, which conducts it to the left ventricle of the
he-art. This latter, by contracting itself, pushes it into
the aorta, f which by continually dividing and subdivid-
ing itself, distributes this balsamic liquor to all the purts,
in order to promote their growth, or support, and oc*
casioti different secretions.
2 1 . Such is the admirable mechanism of the circula-
tion of the blood in men, and in those animals which \ve
are best acquainted with. But how greatly does this
imperfect sketch fall short of the reality ! How incapa-
ble are these outlines of expressing the beauties of this
noble subject ! And who can account for the manner by
which the strength of life is repaired and recruited 1
Who can conceive the cause of that perpetual motion of
the heart, which continues without intermission for the
space of seventy, eighty, or a hundred years, which has
lasted for ages in the first race of men, and which re-
mains almost as long iti some species of animals 1 Havs
we discovered the exact part where the artery is changed
into a vein? Have we disclosed the mystery of the se-
cretion of those spirits, whose prodigious subtilty and
activity give them a near resemblance to light ? Can we
even determine in what manner the grosser secretions
arc performed ? Do we understand the true mechanism
* The bronchia, t The principal trunk, of arteries.
fc'fi
206
of muscular motion? Have we been able to find out the
source of that great strength which often so far exceeds
that of the heart ? All these dependencies on circulation
are yet unrevealed to us. The gloom of night still
wraps these regions in dark obscurity, and you are ear-
nestly desirous of chasing it away from before that sun
which alone can dispel these shades. Will the dawn of
that day ere long gild the horizon of the learned world ?
Or is the time of its breaking forth upon us yet afar
off?
But if we are not able to discover the whole, we may
at least see enough of it to excite our admiration ; and
the sketch which I have just drawn of the circulation, is
sufficient to enable us to conceive the highest ideas of
the SOVEREIGN MIND, which has appointed the man-
ner, duration, and end of it.
Far less magnificent in its plans, less slulful in the
execution of them, hydraulics offer to us but faint images
of this miracle, in those machines by means of which
water is raised above the mountains, in order to its be-
ing distributed into every quarter of a great city, and
made to circulate and issue forth, under a hundred va-
rious forms, into those gardens which art and nature vie
with each other in adorning and embellishing.
The works of the CREATOT? must be compared with
the works of the CREATOR. Ever like HIMSELF, KE
lias impressed on all HIS productions a character of
nobleness and excellence, which demonstrates the gran-
deur of their origin. From that immense mass of water
which encompasses the great continents, there incessantly
arises an ocean of vapours, which, being rarefied by the
combined action of the sun and air, spread themselves
in the upper region of the atmosphere, where they re-
main suspended in equilibria, being intermixed with the
fluid in which they iloat, and gravitate wit!) it. Col-
lected afterwards into clouds more or less dense, and
207
borne on the wings of the winds, they fly acrose the ce-
lestial plains, which they adorn with their rich colours,
and coniiuually variegated forms. Fixed at length on
the mountain tops, they pour upon them abundant rains,
which being collected in the vast reservoirs, embosomed
within them, furnish, by a happy circulation, a supply
to fountains, rivers, lakes and seas. Like veins and ar-
teries, the rivers flow meandering, and branching on
the surface of the earth, they run through immense
dffmitries; water, fertilize, and unite them by a recipro-
cal commerce, and majestically rolling their waves to-
ward the sea, plunge themselves into it, in order to be
again exhaled in vapours, and re-enter afresh into the
channels of this magnificent circulation.
22. Does the sap circulate in plants as the blood cir-
culates in animals ? Is this new mark of analogy between
these two classes of organized bodies as real as it has
appeared to be? Small bladders full of air which have
been thought to be discovered within the leaves,
have convinced us that they were the lungs of the
plant.
But there have not been discovered in plants vessels
analogous to veins and arteries. No organ has been
seen in them capable of performing the functions of the
heart. A tree which is planted a contrary way, with the
roots a top and the branches in the ground, lives, grows,
bears fruit ; from its roots, branches shoot forth ; from
its branches, roots. The same is observed with respect
to slips and layers. A young branch, or young fruit,
after being grafted on a subject foreign to itself, incor-
porates with it, and derive' from thence the same de-
gree of growth it would have received from the plant
whence it was detached. Experiments demonstrate,
lhat the motion of the sap depends entirely on the alter-
natives of heat and cold, and the vicissitudes of day and
night. It is evident that the sap rists in the day from
the roots to the leaves, and falls in the night from the
leaves to the roots. In a word, the course of the sap
nearly resembles that of the liquor contained in the tube
208
of a thermometer. All is reduced to a simple counter-
poise.
23. The nourish nj eut of the more perfect animals re-
quires to be more wrought than that of plants. Hence
the necessity of the circulation of the Hood. The prepara-
tions of the sap do not require such a punctual, regular,
and constant motion ; bare poisings suffice. Large ani-
mals eat but at particular times: a pressing sensation
which induces them to take nourishment, does not con-
tinually act upon them. The different preparations
their aliment should undergo, would be disturbed or in-
terrupted, were a fresh supply to be received within
them before the former was sufficiently digested,
Plants, on the contrary, are in a slate of perpetual
suction ; they draw in nourishment continually, and in
a very great quantity, in the day-time by their roots, in
the night by their leaves. There is a plant which re-
ceives and transpires, in the space of twenty-four hours,
twenty times more than a man.
But if plants differ so much fi\**n large animals by
circulation, on the other hand same species of animals
seem nearly to resemble plants by their want of this cir-
culation. Not the least appearance of this motion is to
be perceived in the polypus, the tape-worm, ihr pond-
muscle, and divers other shell-fish.
24. One of the ancients defined a plant to be a roofed
animal. He would undoubtedly have defined an ani-
mal to have been a wandering plant. The loco-motive
faculty is one of those characters which present, them-
selves first, when we compare the vegetable Kingdom
with the animal. We see plants that, are constantly
fixed on the earth. Being incapable of seeking their
nourishment, it is ordained that this nourishment shall
seek them. The, greatest part of animals on the con-
trary, are subjected to the care of providing their own
subsistence. Nature has not always deposited Lear
them such nourishment as was necessary for their sup*
209
port. She lias thought proper to oblige them to pro-
cure it for themselves, often with much labour. And
the different methods by which she has instructed each
species to obtain this end, much diversify tiie scene of
our world.
Whilst the ploughman opens the earth, to entrust with
it the seeds necessary to support him, the ntole and the
mole cricket, are cleaving for themselves different routs,
in the same, to search for the food allotted to them.
The huntsman pursues his prey with an obstinate reso-
lution : triumphing in his swiftness and strength. At
other times preferring craft he becomes master of it by
laying snares for it. The tyger rushes on the fawn
sporting in the meadow. The cat watches motionless
and silent, till the young mouse issues forth from its re-
treat, that she may dart upon it in a moment. Some
species of animals, resembling mankind by their pru-
dence, lay up provisions against a time of scarcity ;
build themselves magazines, in which are observed such
just proportions, as to give us cause to doubt whether
it was the workmanship of a brute, were we not con-
vinced that this brute itself is the work of SOVEREIGN
REASON.
25. How great is the distance in this respect from the
beaver and bee, to the gall or cochineal insect, the
oyster, the sea nettle, and several other kinds of insects
and shell-fish? The gall insect,* being confounded, by
liis immobility and form, with the tree on which he
Jives, contents himself with extracting its juice. Carried
by the wave to the sea-shore, the oyster remains fixed
there, and all its motions consist in opening and closing
its shell. The sea-nettle, and all the different polypuses
with pipes, being continually fixed to the same place,
open and shut like a flower ; extend and contract them-
selves like a sensitive plant; stretch out arms, by means
of which they seize insects. This is their principal
* See chap, viii.
210
character, and the least equivocal character of their
tinimplity.
Thus it appears that the loco-mo tivt faculty is not
more proper for distinguishing the vegetable from the
animal, than those other characters which we have be-
fore treated of. Iii the mean time, what can be more
distinct in appearance than a plant is from an animal ]
Or what more easy to characterise in the sight of the
major part of mankind ? But when once we are con-
vinced that every thing in nature is shadowed over, we
are not surprised at the difficulties we meet with in our
attempts to distinguish beings. We expect to see the
species enter again into each other ; and confine our-
selves to the smallest latitude, or to that which is attended
with the Least uncertainty. In this principle we will con-
clude the parallel : Jet us see whether feeling, and the
manner by which animals and vegetables are nourished,
will furnish us with any thing more characteristical.
26. If there be any faculty which seems peculiar to the
animal, it is certainly that of feeling. Being united to
an organized substance by ties which perhaps are known
to GOD only, this soul composes with this substance a
mixed being, a being which partakes of the nature of
bodies, and of that of spirits. As a portion of matter,
it is a machine which is admirable in its structure, and
on which corporeal objects afct mechanically. As a spi-
ritual substance, it is affected at the presence of spiritual
objects in a manner which does not seem to have tiny re-
lation with that by which material substances act on each
other. From the expression of external objects on the
machine, there results a certain motion in the machine
Fiom this motion there follows a certain sensation in the
soul, which is succeeded by the reaction of the spiritual
substance on the corporeal ; a reaction which manifests
feeling from without, and which is the expression or
sign of it.
The various sensations in the animal may be reduced
211
to these two general classes, pleasure and pain, separated
from each other by degree* which are frequently insen-
sible, and issuing from the same origin. The expression
of pleasure and pain is not alike in all animals; because
the organs, by means whereof the soul manifests her
sentiments, are not the same in all.
There are species in which feeling is manifested by a
greater number of signs, more varied, more expressive.
What expression, for instance, is there in the air, the
motions; and the various attitudes of an ape, a horse, a
dog, a cat ? There is not much les$ expression in birds
than in quadrupeds. Fishes do not express tlremselves
with the same clearness and energy; they form a dumb
people, amongst whom the language by signs is little
practised : but the extreme vivacity of their motions
Mjems, in part, to compensate for their sterility of ex-
pression. Reptiles, shell-fish, and injects, which are still
at a greater distance from us than fishes, express to us
their feelings in a more obscure manner 5 'but which,
notwithstanding, we can conceive to a certain degree,
and often acknowledge to be very expressive.
On the contrary, we do not discover in the plant any
sign of feeling. All in that seems to be purely mecha-
nical : its life appears to be less a life than a simple du-
ration. We cultivate a plant, or we destroy it, without
experiencing any thing similar to what we meet with
when we cherish an animal, or put it to death. We
see the plant shoot forth, grow, flourish, and bud, as
we perceive the hand of a clock to have passed over the
points of the dial.
These considerations lead us to consider Jee ling as a
character proper for distinguishing the vegetable frdm
the animal.
27. Since, then, the faculty of feeling furnishes us
- but with a doubtful character for distinguishing the ve-
getable from the animal, which is that we should have
recourse to with this view] I think we have exhausted
212
them all : we have at least treated of them all in a cur-
sory manner. But we have not examined them all
under their various aspects. There is one of them,
which being considered in a certain point, of view, ma^
perhaps, procure us what we have in vain searched for
in the others.
We may now consider the position of those organs by
\vliich plants and animals receive their nourishment.
These organs in plants are the roots and leaves : both
of them are furnished with pores, by means of which
they pump in the nutritious juice. These pores termi-
nate at small vessels, which transmit the juice into the
inner part ; or, rather, these pores are only the extre-
mity of these vessels.
Animals have organs which are entirely analogous to
roots and leaves ; I mean lacteal veins, or vessels which
answer the same purpose : these veins open themselves
in the intestines, and pump the chyle into them, which
they convey into the channel of circulation. An animal
is then an organized body, which is nourished by roots
placed within him : a plant is an organized body,
which receives its nourishment by means of roots placed
en its outside.
Yet an animal which is nourished by pores distri-
buted on its outside, renders this character ambiguous.
The tape-worm seems such an animal. It forms in the
intestines a great number of plaits ; and sometimes en-
tirely fills the capacity of this canal. Each of the rings
that compose it, and whose length is rarely more than
one or two lines, is pierced with a small round aperture,
by which one may see the chyle issue, which the worm
is full of, and which constitutes its principal nourish-
ment : if this aperture is a kind of sucker, by the help
of which the insect pumps the chyle that surrounds it,
this method of nourishing itself varies but little from
that of plants.
But, without seeking very far for examples of animals
21
o
lhat are nourished like plants, this is the case of all ani-
mals, whether oviparous or viviparous, whilst they are
inclosed in the egg, or in the belly of their mother : the
umbilical vessels may be considered in the egg, or fn the
matrix, as roots which imbibe the nourishment. It is
the same with respect to insects that multiply "by shoots \
whilst the young one still adheres to its mother, it is
nourished in a manner little different from that which is
peculiar to branches. Animal grafts nearly resemble
vegetable in this particular.
Lastly : The skin of the human body imbibes, like
the leaves of plants, the vapours with which the air
abounds ; and although men draw in much less nourish-
ment by this means than vegetables, it is, nevertheless,
true, that their skin and leaves have, in regard to this
circumstance, a great affinity to each other. Perhaps
>ve may be able, some time or other, to discover ani-
mals which are nourished by their skin only, as certain
plants are by their leaves.
28. Do we then in vain seek for a peculiar character
whereby we may distinguish the vegetable from the ani-
mal 1 I perceive a new property, which will, perhaps^
furnish us with what we seek for.
A muscular fibre contracts of itself on the touch of all
bodies, whether solid or liquid : this property is known
by the name of irritability. It has nothing in it com-
iiiuii to sensibility : the parts which are most sensible
are not irritable, and the parts which are most irritable
are not sensible. Neither ought we to confound irrita-
bility with elasticity : a dry fibre is very elastic, and not
at all irritable. Animals purely gelatinous are not
elastic, and are, notwithstanding, very irritable. In
short, the fibres of old men, though much more elastic
than tliose'of infants, are much less irritable.
We have seen that the heart is a real muscle. If we
extract it from the breast, it will continue to move till
214
it has lost its natural heat. The heart of a viper, or
tortoise, beats strongly for the space of twenty or thirty
hours after the death of th~ animal. Wate»', or air,
when introduced into the ventricle, are sufficient to re-
store to the heart the motion it has lost.
The peristaltic motion of the intestines is likewise
owing to their irritability. But the following is what \ve
should not have guessed at. If they are plucked hastily
from the lower belly, and cut into pieces, all these pieces
will crawl like worms, and contract themselves on the
slightest touch.
80 tiiat not only every muscle, but also every frag-
ment of a muscle, and even every muscular fibr^, con-
tract themselves more or less on being touched by any
body whatsoever, especially if that body be of a stimu-
lating nature ; and as the fibre contracts, so it likewise
recovers of itself, and this alternate exercise lasts for a
time proportionable to the degree or' irritability.
It is evident, from ail the experiments, that the vital
parts are the most irritable. The heart is the most ir-
ritable of all, and next to that, the intestines and dia-
phragm.
The nature of irritability is unknown: we only judge
of it by its effects. It probably resides in the elastic
fluid which is interspersed between the lamelles of the
fibre. The nerves are not irritable ; but if a nerve be
pricked, the muscle at which it terminates will contract
itself. The nerves may then give motion to the mus-
cles; but they do not communicate an irritability to
them which they are not possessed of themselves, they
only put it into action -y and thus they are the ministers
of the affections of the soul.
Irritability then seems to be what constitutes the
vital power in the animal ; arid this property has not
been perceived in the vegetable. Is it not then the dis-
tinguishing character we seek for!
215
CHAP. XI.
Of the Industry of Animals.
-ITHERTO we have scarcely considered animals
in any other light than with respect to the organization,
and the immediate and general consequences or' it. We
will now contemplate their industry, which is still more
interesting to us.
Some animals seem reducible to feeling only : others
have all our senses, and rise almost to understanding.
The distance from the polypus to the ape appears
enormous.
Imagination and memory are observable in divers
species: imagination, in their dreams; memory, in the
recollection of such things as have atiected them. Places,
persons, animate and inanimate objects, are traced out
in their brain, and they act agreeably to these represen-
tations.
The degree of knowledge in each species answers to
the place it occupies in the general plan. The sphere
of this knowledge extends to all cases which the animal
may naturally meet ; and if the animal happens to be
drawn from his natural circle, and nevertheless is not
entirely removed out of it, we may conclude that this
new situation has a relation to one of the cases to which/
the sphere of his knowledge extends.
216
Hie way whereby animals vary their proceedings as
necessity requires, furnishes one of the strongest argu-
ments against the opinion which transforms them into
mere machines. The philosopher who attributes to
them a soul, founds his judgment on the analogy of
their organs with ours, and of their actions with several
of ours : those who make the soul material, forget that
even feeling is incompatible with the properties of
matter.
The greater the number of cases is to which the
knowledge of an animal extends, the higher is this ani-
mal elevated iu the scale.
The preservation of life, the propagation of the spe-
cies, and the care of their young, are the three principal
branches of the knowledge of animals ; but ail are not
alike to be admired in these respects.
The oyster knows only how fo open and close its
shell.
The spider spreads a net for his prey; waits, like a
huntsman,, till sonic insect, falls into the snare ; hardly
has he touched it, before he darts upon it. Is he armed,
or too nimble? He fastens the lines to him with won-
derful skill, and thus disables it tither from flying or
defending itself.
Divers species of animals live from day to day, with-
out taking any thought for the succeeding day ; others
seem endued with a kind of foresight, construct maga-
zines with abundance of art, which they rill with various
kinds of provisions : such are the lee and the leaver.
Among animals that live by prey, some, like the eagle
and the lion, attack with open force ; others, as the hawk
and the fox, join craft to strength.. Some save their
lives by flight; others, by hiding themselves under the
earth or water; while others still have recourse to divers
stratagems to facilitate their flight, and evade the pur-
suit of their enemy.
217
Those philosophers, who take a great deal of pains to
define instinct, are not. aware, that in order to do it,
they should spend some time in the head, of an animal*
without becoming the animal itself. To say in general,
that instinct is the result of the impression of certain
objects on the machine, of the machine on the soul, and
of the soul on the machine, is to substitute terms that
are a litlle less obscure, instead of a very obscure term ;
but the idea does not issue from the thick darkness that
covers it : we well know what, is not instinct, but are
utterly ignorant what it is. It is not understanding, or
reason : the brute has neither our notions, nor our mean
ideas, because it has not our signs.
2. At the same time that NATURE has taught divers
animals the method of attacking and pursuing their prey,
she has instructed them in that of self-defence or escap-
ing. If we were conversant in the books of nature, we
should there see, without doubt, that the profit always
makes amends for the loss. A register of the births and
deaths of some species puts this truth beyond all con*
troversy.
Those species which multiply most, have the greatest
number of enemies. Caterpillars and vine-fretters are
attacked as much within as without, by I know not how
many insects, that are always bent on destroying the in-
dividuals, \vithout being able to effect the destruction of
the species. Many species seek their living or retreat in
the inner part of the earth, or in that of plants and
animals. Others build themselves nests or shells with
amazing art, where they pass their time in weakness and
inactivity.
Some that are more skilful, can, like us, make them*
selves clothes, and even procure matter for their nourish-
ment. They strip our cloths and furs of their hairs,
and make a kind of stuff of it, wherewith they clothe
themselves. The form of their dress is very simple, but
very commodious. It is a sort of muff or case, which
4
218
they can lengthen or widen as they find occasion. They
lengthen it by adding to each end new layers of silk and
hair, and widen it as we do a glove, by cutting it in the
middle accordin" to the length of it, and by engrafting
a piece. You may imagine that I am speaking of 'house*
moths : field-moths, which clothe themselves with leaves,
surpass them in industry.
Several kinds of Jiskps and lirds change, at a stated
time, their dwelling-places. We have seen numerous
shoals of herrings and cod-fish, aodjjodta of geese, quails,
and crows, re&embling thick clouds that sometimes
darken the air. By such periodical emigrations the
species are preserved, and in their long pilgrimages
nature is their pilot and provider.
3. The grasshopper, lizard, tortoise, and crocodile,
furnish examples of animals that scarce take any care of
their eggs, and are almost wholly unmindful of the
young that are hatched from them. They lay them iri
the earth or sand, and leave the sun to communicate
the warmth necessary for them. Shell-fish practise the
same method : some spawn in the water; others between
Stones, or in the sand.
The instinct of the different species consists in de-
positing them in places where the young may find pro-
per nourishment al their birth. The mothers commit
no mistake with respect to that. The butterfly of the
call age- cater pillar never lays her eggs on meat, nor the
Jlesh-Jly on the cabbage.
The gnat, that flutters in the air, was at first an in-
habitant of the water. For this reason her eggs are
always deposited in the water. The mass formed by
them resembles a little vessel which the insect sets
afloat. Each egg is in the form of a keel. All the
keels are vertical, and are disposed back to back. The
gnat lays but one egg at a time. We cannot devise how
kvhe cak cause the first egg or keel to remain in the water
219
Her method is nevertheless very simple, but much
more ingenious. She stretches out her long legs behind
her, crosses them, and by thus forming an angle of them,
receives the first egg, and holds it at pleasure. A se-
cond C2jg is soon placed next the first ; then a third,
fourth, &c. The base of the pyramid thus widens by
little and little, and at length is capable of sustaining
itself.
Some species glue their eggs with great symmetry
and propriety round the branches or small shoots of
trees, like rings or circles. One would be apt to say,
that some skilful hand had been diverting itself in fitting
pearl bracelets on the sprigs. A caterpillar, which, from
the distribution of its colours, is called livery, trans-
forms itself into a butterfly, that disposes her eggs in
this manner, and forms these pretty bracelets of them.
Other butterflies do still more : they strip themselves
of their hair, and make with it a kind of nest for their
eggs, where they lie soft and warm. Such in particular
is the industrious workmanship of the butterfly, proceed-
ing from that called the common caterpillar, because it
is in fact most common in these countries.
4. Certain species are so attached to .their eggs, that
they carry them about with them every where. The
wolf spider encloses her's in a little silk purse, which she
bears on her hind-part. Does any one destroy it, or
take it from her? Her natural vivacity and agility aban-
don her : she seems to fall into a kind of languor. Has
she the happiness to recover the precious trust ? She in-
stantly seizes it, carries it away, and betakes herself to
flight. As soon as the little spiders are hatched, they
collect and arrange themselves skilfully on the back of
their dam, who continues for some time to bestow her
attention on them, and to transport them with her
wherever she goes.
Another spider lodges her eggs in a little silk purse,
which she wraps up in a leaf. She fixes herself on this
VOL. iv. i
220
purse, and sits on her eggs with amazing assiduity.
Another, to conclude, encloses hei's in tuo or three
little silk balls, which she suspends by threads; but has
the precaution to hang before, at a small distance, a
little bunch of dry leaves, to conceal them from the in-
spection of the curious.
5. Divers species of solitary flies are not less to be
admired, as well for their foresight in amassing provi-
sions for their little ones, as for the art displayed by
them in them the nests they prepare for their reception.
The mason bee, so called because like us, she under-
stands the iirt of building, performs such works in ma-
sonry, as one would imagine must greatly surpass the
strength of a fly. With sand, collected grain by grain,
and glued together with a kind of cement much pre-
ferable to ours, she erects a house for her family : a very
simple one indeed, but extremely solid and commodious.
It is divided within info several chambers or cabins, on
the back of each other, without any communication be-
tween them. One general foldage, a wall of enclo-
sure comprehends them all, and leaves no opening with-
out. This wall must be broke before the apartments
can be seen, and it is found to be as hard as a stone.
These nests are very common on the fronts of houses :
they there resemble little oval hillocks, of a different
grey from that of the stone. The fly that is the ar-
chitect of these buildings deposits an egg in each cham-
ber, and shuts up in it at the same a stock of wax or
paste, which is the nourishment appropriated to her
young.
Another fly, which may be called the carpenter * bee,
because she works in wood, likewise builds apartments
for her family, but in a different taste from that of the
mason. Sometimes she distributes them into stages;
sometimes disposes them in a row. Cielings or parti-
tions, artfully made, separate all these stages or chain -
* The wood-piercing bee.
bers, and there is an egg deposited in each of them,
with the quantity of paste necessary for the young.
(>. These various kinds of work require in general less
skill and genius than labour and patience. There is a
very different degree of art and sagacity displayed in the
nest constructed by another fly with single pieces of
leaves only. This nest is a real prodigy of industry.
When it is taken to pieces, and nurrowly examined mail
its parts, one cannot conceive how a fly should be able
to cut them out, turn, and put them together with so
much propriety and exactness. When viewed on the
outside, this nest very much resembles a tooth-pick
case. The inside is divided into several little cells, in
the form of a thimble, set in one another as thimbles are
in a tradesman's shop. Every thimble consists of seve-
ral pieres. which are separately cut from one leaf, and
whojc form, circumference, and proportions tally with
the place each is intended to occupy. The same me-
thod is used with respect to" the pieces that form the
case or common cover. In a word, there is sr> much
exactness, symmetry, uniformity, and skill iu this little
master-piece, that we should not believe it to be the
work of a fly, did we not know at what school she learnt
the art of constructing it. We may naturally conjec-
ture that each thimble is a lodging for a little one ; but
we could not have imagined that the paste which the
mother provides for it is almost liquid, and that the little
celt, which is entirely composed of small pieces of leaves,
is notwithstanding a vessel so well closed up, that this
•paste never spills, even when the vessel is stooped.
Many brutes act in concert with each other. A
drove of oxen is grazing in a meadow: a wolf appears:
they immediately form into a battalion, and present
their horns to the enemy. This warlike disposition dis-
concerts him, and obliges him to retire.
In winter, hinds and young stags assemble in \\erds, iu
the more numerous companies as Hie season happens t<>
prove severe. They warm each other with their breath,
L '2
222
In the spring they separate, the hinds concealing them-
selves in order to bring forth. The young harts remain
together, love to walk in company, and are only parted
by necessity.
Sheep that are exposed to the sultry heat of the dog-
days in an open plain, keep near each other, so that
their heads touch ; they hold them inclined towards the
earth, and snuff up the fresh air which comes from be-
neath them.
Wild ducks, that are accustomed to change their
climate, range themselves in their flight in the form of a
wedge, or an inverted V, that they may cleave the air
with the greater ease. The duck at the extreme point
leads the flight, and cleaves the air first of all. After a
certain time he is relieved by another, the second in his
turn by a third, &c. In this manner each bears a share
in the laborious part of this orjke.
8. Animals to whom the company of their own kind
is useful, have been rendered fit for this commerce.
And if the AUTHOR of nature had man in view with
respect to this particular, as we may without pride sup-
pose^ the means will be found to correspond perfectly
well with the end. Jn effect, how many embarrass-
ments and inconveniencies would have accompanied the
divers services we deduced from domestic animals, if in-
dividuals of the same species had not power to cohabit
together !
The spirit of society is not altogether limited to indi-
viduals of the same species, but extends likewise in a
certain degree to those of different species, and from
thence man also derives some advantage. The custom
of seeing each other, of eating their meals in common,
of reposing under the same roof, confirms the natural
disposition of domestic animals to live in society. The
connections which result from it become so much the
stronger as they begin earlier or nearer to their birth.
223
Thus animals that are not appointed to live together,
may notwithstanding form a sort of society : the natural
inclination each of them has to live with those of a like
kincl, is susceptible of modification or extension.
Every individual knows his like ; those of the same
society likewise know them. It is observable, that if
strange fowls are brought into a poultry^yard, those of
the place will persecute them, till cohabitation has
made them members of the society.
The outside of the body exhibits divers characters,
by means of which individuals of the same society may
know each other, and distinguish strange individuals.
But among these physical characters there may be some
mixed ones, or such as belong as much to the soul as
the body, which the animals of the class we are treating
of, are capable of seizing ; such are the air, pdlture,
gait. The individuals of that species, which are not
yet become familiar in their new habitation, seem fear-
ful or embarrassed : this fear or embarrassment de-
tects them, and excites or encourages others to attack
them.
That kind of society in which domestic animals live,
gives room for a remarkable observation ; the young
lamb distinguishes her mother from amongst 3 or 400
sheep, although there does not appear to be any sensi-
bk difference betwixt them.
0; Nothing is more wonderful than those legions of
flying creatures, that at a stipulated time pass from one
to other very remote countries. What instinct assembles
them ? What compass directs them ? What chart
points out their way ? We presently conceive that the
change of the season, and the want of suitable nourish-
ment, advertise these different species of birds to shift
their abode. But whence did they learn that they
Should meet with, in other regions, a climate and
aliment proper for them ? la order to be able to
answer these questions, and all such as may be asked on
this interesting subject, we should carefully examine
»• a
224
every circumstance that attends the marches of these
birds. The degree of cold or heat that accelerates, or
retards them, deserves to be particularly attended to ;
for there is no room to doubt that they are most of
all influenced by this. There is, perhaps, a secret rela-
tion between the temperature which suits with certain
species, and that which is necessary for the production
of the food that nourishes them.
But we have not tarried our enquiries deep enough
into these different species of birds and fishes of passage.
10. An-ong the soc eties of brutes Improperly so
called, some depend on chance, or on the agency of
men, if not altogether, at least in part It is not so with
respect to societies properly so called. They do not
owe \heir origin to any human act, but solely to nature,
Thewiembers that compose them are not only united
by common necessities, and that for a short time, but
they are so by a much stronger tie, which subsists to
tjje dea)h of the animal, or at least during a consider-
able ?>art of its life ! 1 mean, the natural preservation
of the individual, or that of its family : both the one
and the other are necessarily attached to the state of
society. It is for this great end that these different
species of social animals have been instructed to labour
in common on works so worthy of admiration.
Societies properly so called may be divided into two
classes: the first comprehends those whose principal end
is limited to the preservation of individuals °, the second^
those whose scope is the preservation of individuals, and
education of their young.
Several species of caterpillars, and some species of
worms, belong to the former of these two classes ; ants,
wasps, bees, beavers, to the second.
The first class will have under it two principal sorts ;
one of which will comprehend temporary societies ; the
r, societies for life.
225
II. A butterfly depesits her eggs about the middle of
summer on tiie leaf of a plumb-tree ; the number of
these eggs is three or four hundred. After some days,
there issues from each of them a very small caterpillar.
They are so tar from dispersing themselves on the ad-
joining leaves, that they all continue together on that
whereon they first received their being : the same spirit
of society unites them. They apply themselves imme-
diately, in concert, in the spinning of a web, which at
firet is very thin ; but they afterwards make it stronger,
by gradually adding jnew threads to it : this web is a
real tent spread upon the leaf, under which the young
caterpillars shelter themselves. As they increase in
bulk, they extend their lodging by fresh layers of leaves
and silk : the spaces contained between these layers are
apartments, ali of which communicate by doors made
on purpose. In this nest they pass the winter, placed
near each other, without motion, till the returning spring
enlivens them, and invites them to bronze on the sprout-
ing leaves. Lastly, towards the month of May, the so-
ciety is dissolved ; every caterpillar separates from his
companion, and spends the remainder of his life in soli-
tude : being then become stronger, a state of society is
no longer necessary for them.
12. The caterpillars that live on the oak, and w hose-
societies are much more numerous than those of the
common, are very singular in their proceedings. They
set out from their nest at sun-set, and march 112 proces-
sion, under the conduct of a chief, whose motions they
follow : the ranks are at first composed only of one ca-
terpillar, afterwards of two, three, four, and sometimes
more. The chief has nothing in him that may distin-
guish him from the rest, but 'by being the lirst, and that
he is not constantly, because every other caterpillar may,
in his turn, occupy the same place. After having taken
their repast on the leaves around them, they return to
their nest in the same order ; and this continues during
the whole life of the caterpillar. When they have ar-
L 4
326
nved to their full growth, each forms for himself a cone,
where it is transformed into a chrysalis, and afterwards
assumes the form of a butterfly. These metamorphoses
cause a new kind of life to succeed to the state of so-
ciety, which is very different from the primitive one.
This is an example of societies for life, whose princi-
pal end is the preservation of individuals.
.13. There are several kinds of caterpillars that are
true republicans, and whose discipline, manners, and
genius, diversify them as much .as those of different peo-
ple. Some of them, like savages, make themselves
hammocks, in which they take their meals, and even
pass their whole lives : others live like the Arabs and
Tartars, in tents, which they erect in the meadows ; and
when they have consumed all the herbs that grew about
them, they go awa) and pitch their camp elsewhere.
The nests which the republican caterpillars make for
themselves are perfect retreats; they are screened in
them from the injuries of the air, and are all closely
shut up in times, of inaction or idleness; but they go
out at certain hours to seek th.ir nourishment. They
feed on the leaves which surround them, which they
consume one after another : they often go to a great dis-
tance from tj.eir dwelling, and by different turnings.
However, they can always find it again, when they have
occasion : nature has provided them with a method for
regaining their lodging, which answers exactly to that
used by THESEUS for fetching ATUADNJK out of the
labyrinth. We pave our ways ; our caterpillars line
theirs with tapestry : they never walk but on silk car-
pets. All the paths that lead to their nest are covered
\lith silk threads : these threads form tracks of a glossy
white, which are at least two or three lines in width.
By pursuing these tracks in a row, they never lose their
way, how intricate soever the turnings and windings of
their passage may be. By putting a finger on the
track, we should intersect the path, and throw the cater-
pillars into the greatest perplexity : they stop on a sud-
• s 227
den at this place, and express all the signs of fear and
distrust. Their march is suspended, till some cater-
pillar, more bold than the rest, crosses over the spoiled
path : the thread she spreads in crossing serves as a
bridge for the next to pass over. This, in passing,
spreads another thread ; a third another, and thus the
way is soon repaired.
Yet there is a great difference between the method of
the republican caterpillars, and that of Theseus. They
do not spread a carpet over their paths to prevent their
missing their way ; but they do not miss their way, be-
cause they spread such a carpet : they spin continually,
because they have always occasion to evacuate the silky
matter, which their nourishment produces again? and
which is inclosed in their intestines. By satisfying this
want, they are assured of being in the right path, with-
out attending to it. The construction of the nest is
likewise connected with this want. Its architecture is
adapted to the form of the animal, to the structure and
exercise of his organs, and to his particular circum-
stances.
14. Ants seek their provisions and aliment at a great
distance from their abode : various paths, which are
often very winding and intricate, terminate at their nest.
The ants pass over them in rows, without ever missing
their way, any more than the republican caterpillars:
like the latter, they leave tracks wherever they pass^
These are not discernible to the eye ; they are much
more sensible to the smell ; and it is well known that
ants have a ,very penetrating, one. However, if we
draw a finger several times backwards and forwards
along the wall by which the ants pass and repass up and
down in rows, they will be stopped on a sudden in their
march, and it will afford some amusement to observe
the perplexity they are in. It will happen in the same
manner with regard to the processions of these ants, as
ijas -been- before related, concerning those of the cater-
pillars.
15. The sight of a bee-hive is certainly one of the
finest that can offer itself to our eyes : there appears in
it an astonishing air of grandeur. One can never be
weary of contemplating these work-shops, where thou-
sands of labourers are constantly employed in different
works. We. are struck in a particular manner with the
geometrical exactness of their works ; as we likewise are
at the sight of their magazines, which are replenished
with every thing necessary for the support of the society
during the rigorous season. We likewise-stop with plea-
sure to behold the young ones in their cradles, and to
obsejrye the tender care of their nursing mothers to--
wan re them.
But what chiefly attracts the attention is the queen :
the slowness, I had almost said gravity, of her inarch,
her stature, which is a more advantageous one than thai
ef the- other bees, and, above all, Hie various homage-
paid her by the rest. We can scarcely believe what our
eves are witnesses of, in the regard and assiduities of
the neuters for this Moved queen. But- our amazement
is greatU heightened when we see these laborious, ac-
tive insects, entirely, cease from their labour, and suffer
themselves to perish, as. soon as they are deprived of
their sovereign.
By what secret engagement,, by what law superior to
that whereby each individual provides for its own pre-
servation, <ire the bees attached to their qneen in such
a degree, as absolutely to neglect the care of their owu
lives, whan they happen to be separated from her]
This law seems to be nothing more than the grand
principle of the preservation of the species : the neuters
do not- engender, but they, know that the queen enjoys-
that faculty ;. they construct those cells, whose propor-
tions we so much admire,, for the reception of the egg$
she. is ready to lay. Nature has instructed them a&
-229
much with regard to the young that is to he hatched'
from them, as she has the mothers of other animals in
favour of their offspring.
1 6. Of all animals that live in society, none approach
nearer to human understanding than beavers. We are
at a loss to determine what is most worthy of admira-
tion hi their labours, whether the grandeur and solidity
of the undertaking, or prodigious art, fine views, and
general design, so excellently displayed throughout every
part of their execution. A society of beavers seem to
be an academy of engineers, that proceed on rational
plans, which they rectity or modify as they judge neces-
sary, pursuing them with as much constancy as preci-
sion ; all are animated by the same spirit, and unite
their will and strength for the promoting one common
end, which is always the general good of the society:
in a word, we must be witnesses of their performances,
before we can judge them capable of them. A' traveller
that is ignorant .of them, and happens to meet with their
habitations, will think, he is among a. nation of very in-
dustrious savages.
The mole, or bank, which they raise, is a work of im-
mense labour ; and it is inconceivable how brutes are
able to project, begin, and complete it. Represent to
yourself a river of fourscore or a hundred feet, in width.
Their first business is to break the force of the current:
the beavers then throw up a bank, or causeway, eighty or
a hundred -feet in length, by ten or twelve feet at its base.
Nothing is more certain than this, nor less likely ; and.
when we have repeatedly seen it, we are still willing to
renew our inspection of it, in order to enforce our
belief.
The most considerable towns of the beavers consist1'
of twenty or twenty-rive lodgments, though such are
but rare ;• the most common have only tea or twelve.
JL 6
230
Each republic has its peculiar district, and admits of no
accidental guests.
When any great inundations damage the edifices of
the beavers, all the societies, without exception, unite
together for making the necessary repairs. If hunters
declare a cruel war against them, and entirely destroy
their banks and cottages, they disperse themselves about
the country, betake themselves to a solitary life, dig
burrows or trenches under ground, and never shew any
marks of that industry we have been admiring.
1 7. Beavers seem to be formed with a view to con*
found our reasonings. Their associating themselves
into great bodies, for working in concert on their im-
mense works ; their separating into little families, or
particular societies, charged with the construction of
the huts; the nature ©f these works, their extent, soli-
dity, propriety, and appropriation, so conducive to one
general end, comprehending such a number of subordi-
nations: in a word, their almost perfect resemblance
with works erected by men with the same intent, all
concur to give the labour of the beavers an undoubted
superiority over that of the bees. In fact, to fell trees
chosen on purpose, to lop them, and cut off their pro-
jections, to make great cross pieces of timber of them,
disposing .them in their proper places; to cut smaller
trees like stakes, plant several rows of these stakes in a
river, and interlace them with branches of trees, in order
to strengthen and connect them together; to make
mortar, and with it solidly to compact the inside of the
pile : and to all this to add the form, proportions, and
solidity of a great bank; to form sluices thereon, and
open or shut them according to the water's elevation or
abatement ; to build behind the bank little houses, one
or more stories high, founded on an entire pile-work ;
to build them solidly without, and incrust or cement
them within by a layer of plaister, applied with equal
exactness and propriety ; to cover the flooring with a
231
verdant tapestry ; to contrive lights and outlets in the
walls for different purposes; to erect magazines, and
supply them with provisions ; to repair with diligence
whatever breaches may happen to the public works,
and re-unite themselves into one grand body for the
effecting in common these reparations ; are astonishing
marks of industry, which seem to imply in the beavers
a ray of that light, which raises man so far above the
rest of the animal creation.
232
CHAP. XII.
Continuation of the Industry of Animals.
E shall, in the next place, treat of the proceed-
ings of solitary animals. If they do not affect that-
extraordinary air of reflection and prudence, that bright-
ness of genius, and that appearance of policy and legis-
lation which we admire in sociable animals, they never-
theless attract our regard, either by their simplicity and
singularity, or their diversity and appropriation to one
common end, for the attaining of which they use the in-
genious and natural means. After having contemplated
the government, manners, and labours, of a republican
community, we may still find some pleasure in consider-
ing the life and occupations of a solitary one; thus
passing from the monuments of Rome to the cottage, of
a Robinson. Those works that are performed by the
sociable animals^ and which astonish us as much by their
size, as by the beauty of their disposition, result from
the concurrence of a number of individuals : they all
pass through various hands; some sketch them, others
bring them to a greater perfection, and a third sort
finish them. The works of solitary animals spring from
one head only ; and the same hand that begins them,
continues, finishes, and repairs them. Each individual
has his particular, talent and degree of skill, whereby he
provides for his own subsistence, and furnishes himself
with all necessaries.
We will here confine ourselves to the proceedings re-
lative to the metamorphosis. This is an affair of great
233
importance for one of our hermits to prepare himself
for, the most interesting to him of any during ills whole
life. Caterpillars alone exhibit to us the examples of
almost all the proceedings which nature has taught to
insects of this kind. We will limit our examinations to
this class in particular.
2. There are some caterpillars whose bodies are sup-
ported by a prop, and nature has taught them the me-
thod of effecting this. They wind a girdle round their
i)ody, composed of a number of silk threads collected
together, whose edds are fixed to the prop that sustains
them : by this means they fasten their hind legs in a
little heap of silk. It is easy to imagine after this, that
the chrysalis must be tied and grappled as the cater-
pillar was: the girdle is loose, and leaves the chrysalis
sufficient room to peifoxm its* little operations^
3. Other caterpillars form* cones. Same of these
give their cone a more exquisite form, so as to resemble
that of an inverted boat. The cone of a silk-worm is
made, if we may be allowed the expression, of a single
piece. The cones made boat-wise consist of two prin-
cipal parts, shaped like shells, and joined together with
great skill and propriety : each shell is- w.orked sepa-
rately, and formed, of an almost infinite number of very
minute silk rings. On the fore part of the cone, which
represents the hind part of the boat, is a ledge that juts
out a little, in which we may perceive a very narrow
crevice, which denotes the aperture contrived for the
exit of the butterfly: by means of that, the two shells
may part asunder, and leave room for the butterfly to
pass through them. They are constructed and put to.-
gelher with so much art,, that they are of the nature of
a spring ; and the cone from whence the butterfly has
lately issued, appears as close as that winch it still iix,-
habits : by. this ingenious artifice the butterfly is always
free, and the chrysalis in safety. We shall hereafter
come to treat of proceedings which are analogous to
these, but more singular.
234-
4. Our spinners have not all an equal provision, yet
all seem to endeavour at concealing themselves from
sight. Such as are not rich enough to make themselves
a good lodgment of silk, supply the want of it by dif-
ferent matters of a coarser or finer texture, which they
are sufficiently skilful to cause to contribute towards
the construction of the lodge. Some content themselves
with giving it a covering of leaves, which they connect
together without any art. Others do not confine them-
selves to the amassing these leaves, and disposing them
indiscriminately, but range them with a kind of regu-
larity. Others think proper to powder the whole of
their cone with a matter they yield from behind them,
and which they cause to penetrate betwixt the thread.
Others strip themselves of their hairs, and form a mass
of a mixture of silk and hairs. Others, after having
stripped themselves, plant their long hairs about them,
and make of them a sort of cradle-fence. Others add
a greasy matter, which they procure from their inside,
to the silk and hairs ; with this they stop up the rings
of the weft, and it serves as a varnish for them. Others
thrust themselves into sand, or small gravel, and there
construct for themselves cones of sand, whose grains are
connected with the silk. Others, lastly, which have no
silk, pierce the earth, make a cavity in it like a cone,
and smear the sides of it with a kind of glue, or
paste.
Another species, which is far more industrious than
the former, perform a work which we cannot too much
admire. You have lately seen described those cones
which resemble an inverted boat : this is likewise the
form that this species give to their cone ; but they do
not make it entirely of silk. They strip e>ff little pieces
of bark with their teeth, of a rectangular figure, nearly
even and alike, and dispose them with all skill and pro-
priety ; with these they compose the principal parts of
the cone. These great parts are likewise formed of a
considerable quantity of very small inlaid work, placed
end to end, and joined together with silk. In a word,
235
we ar£ apt to fancy that we are looking at an inlaid
floor, or a piece of inlaid work.
5, The most solitary of all insects are such as live in
the inside of fruits. Each fruit lodges only one cater-
pillar, or worm : we are ignorant of the cause of this
remarkable fact. We only know, that a curious ob-
server having attempted to cause caterpillars of this
species to live together, they furiously engaged each
other as often as they met : it is then inconteslibly true,
that the disposition of these caterpillars is anti-sociable.
Several have metamorphosed themselves in the very
fruit that has served them for a retreat and for provi-
sion ; they dig cavities in it, which they line with silk,
or in which they spin their cones. Others, which are
the greater part of them, quit the fruit, and metamor-
phose themselves in the earth.
6. Those insects that roll up or fold the leaves of a
great number of plants, are also perfect hermits : this
proceeding is common to many caterpillars. They thus
procure for themselves little cells, which are convenient
lodgings tor them, in which they are always sure to find
nourishment, for they eat the walls of the cell ; but
they are always very careful never to touch that part
which is destined to cover them. The different me-
thods in which these caterpillars lodge themselves, give
room for distinguishing them into tyers, folders, and
rollers.
Tlie art of the tyers is in general the most simple. It
consists in joining several leaves together with silk
threads, in order to form them into one entire parcel, in
the centre of which is the lodge of the little hermit.
The procedure of the folders supposes more refi»ed
operations. They fold the leaves either in the whole,
or in part. In the whole, when the portion folded is
turned back flat upon another part of the leaf: and in
part, when they only simply bend the leaf more or less.
But the labour of the rollers is most of all to be ad-
mired. They liv* in a kind of roll, whose dimensions,
236
form, and position, vary in different species. Some
give itja cylindrical figure; others, the form of a cone,
which is likewise as well made as those the grocers use.
The leaf is always rolled spirally, or as wafers are. The
roll, or cone, is commonly laid on the leaf; but some-
times, which is very remarkable, it is fixed on it like a
nine-piu.
Does my reader imagine that mechanism presides
over the construction of these various works] Does he
conceive in what manner an insect, that has no claws, is
able to roll up a leaf, and to keep it so? We know in
general that caterpillars spin : and can in some measure
discover, it is by the assisstance of their threads that our
skilful rollers cause the leaves to take the form of a cy-
lindrical or conical tube. We see in effect parcels of
threads distributed from one distance to another, which
hold the roller confined to the leaf. Rut how can these
threads, which seem only to perform the office of small
cables, be capable of rolling up the leaf] This we ima-
gine ourselves able to guess at, but without elUct. We
suppose, that by fastening threads to the cage of the
leaf, and drawing these threads towards her, the cater-
pillar forces the edge to rise and turn itself; which is by
no means the case. The use the industrious insect
makes of its strength, consists of a more refined me-
chanism. He fixes a number of threads to the border
of the leaf, but does not draw it to him. By means of
them he bends the other extremity to the surface of the
leaf. The threads of one and the same parcel are
nearly parallel, and compose a little ribband. By the
side of this ribband the insect spins a second, which
passes over and crosses the former. This then is the
secret of its mechanism. In passing over the first rib-
band in order to extend the second, it bears on the first
\vith the whole weight of its body ; this pressure, which
tends to force down the ribband, obliges the edge of
the leaf to which it is fastened, to rise. The second
ribband, which is at the same time struck on the flat
part of the leaf, preserves on the edge that alteration or
bending which the insect was disposed to give it. If
we narrowly examine these two ribbands, their effect
will be visible. The second .will appear very tight, and
the first very slack ; the reason is because the latter
lias no greater degree of action, nor indeed ought to
have. You now comprehend that the roll is gradually
formed by the repetition of the same operations on dif-
ferent parts of the leaf. But it often happens that the
coarser edges resist too much ; the insect knows how to
weaken them by gnawing them here and there. In er-
der to form a cone, some more performances are neces-
sary. The roller cuts with her teeth, on the leaf, the
part that is to compose it. She does not detach it alto-
gether from it ; it would then want a base; she only
separates that part which is necessary to form the fold-
ings of the cone. The part is properly a slip, which she
rolls as she cuts it. She^ raises the cone on the leaf,
almost hi the same manner as we erect an inclined
obelisk. She fixes threads or little cables near the
point of the pyramid; she pre'sses on *hem with the
weight of her body, and thus forces the point to raise
itself. You may form an idea of the rest ; the me-
chanism is the same as that employed in making a roll.
Tiiese cells, in which the caterpillar lives, serve like-
wise as a retreat for the chrysalis. This latter would
not probably be sufficiently well accommodated with a
bare covering of leaf. The caterpillar lines the cell with
silk tapestry. Other species spin a cone for themselves
in it.
7. Some leaves of plants are scarcely thicker than
paper. Would any one imagine there were insects skilful
enough to provide a lodging in such thin leaves as these,
so as to shelter themselves from the injuries of the wea-
ther? A leaf is to them a vast country, wherein they
make roads for themselves that are more or less wind-
ing ; they mine in the substance of the leaf, as our
miners do in the earth. From hence also they have
taken the name of miners of haves. They are ex-
tremely common : some belong to the class of cater-
238
pillars ; others to that of worms. They cannot bear to
be naked; and it is for the sake of covering themselves
that they insinuate themselves between the two foldings
of a leaf. They find their subsistence there at the same
time. They eat the pulp of it, and in eating, trace out
a way for themselves. Some dig there strait or crooked
trenches. These are gallery miners. Others mine
round about them, in circular Or oblong spaces, these
are miners at large. Their teeth are the instruments
they mine with ; but some \vomi-miners dig by means
of two hooks resembling our pick-axes. Several of
these insects spin within the mine, the cone wherein
they are to transform themselves. Others quit the mine,
and metamorphose themselves elsewhere. Butterflies
that proceed from a mining caterpillar, are little mira-
cles of nature. She has lavished gold, silver, and
azure upon them ; with other colours that are more or
less rich ; though we regret that she has not performed
these master-pieces in a more extensive form.
8. But miners have something still more wonderful to
offer us. Bestow your attention on those vine leaves
that are before you. They are pierced with oval holes
which seem to be made in them by a gimblet. The
mining caterpillars bored these holes, by stripping two
pieces of skin from the leaf, with which they make a
cone : that cone is there placed perpendicularly on a
vine-prop, at a pretty considerable distance from the
leaf that furnished the materials. How was it cut,
fashioned, detached, and conveyed 1 Let us not vainly
attempt to guess this : let us rather endeavour to sur-
prise the industrious labourer on her working bench.
She mines ly way of gallery, and constructs her cone at
the extremity of the gallery. It is composed of two pieces
of leaf of an oval form, very thin, even, and like each
other. The caterpillar prepares these places ; makes of
them a thin texture, by clearing them of the pulp; she
models them, lines them with silk, cuts them with her
teeth, as with scissars, joins and unites them. They al-
ready have no connection with the leaf, notwithstanding
239
which, the coDe does not fall : the caterpillar has taken
the precaution to sustain it by some threads of the
same species with its border. When the cone is finished,
the caterpillar applies herself to disengage aad trans-
sport it from its place. She has left a small aperture at
one end of it. She causes her head to come out at this
opening, bears it forward, seizes a part of the prop with
her teeth, and by an effort draws the cone to her. The
threads that hold it give way, and the caterpillar carries
her little house about with her as the snail does her
shell. Behold her walking ; her march is a new my-
stery. It has been said that all caterpillars have at least
ten legs : this is absolutely without any, and shews us
what ah opinion we ought to entertain of such naturalists.
Let us lay in her way a finely polished glass, placed per-
pendicularly. She is not in the least retarded by this,
but climbs over the glass as on a leaf. By what secret
art is she enabled to cleave to it, for she has neither legs
nor claws to grapple it ] You have seen caterpillars that
spin little heaps of silk which they fix themselves to.
Our miner spins the like, at certain distances, according
to the track she is to pass over. She seizes one of these
heaps with her teeth, which becomes in part a support
for her; she draws the cone to her, and carries it to-
wards the little heap : fastens it to it ; thrusts her head
forwards : spins a second heap : fixes herself to it in the
same manner as to the first ; makes an effort to discharge
the cone, which she effects, drags it towards the new
heap, fastens it likewise to it, and this second step being
taken unravels to you the secret of her ingenious me-
chanism. By this means she leaves on the bodies over
which she passes little tracks of silk, which she spins
from space to space. When , she has arrived at the
place she is inclined to fix herself at, she here stops the
cone intended for a habitation, and places it in a verti-
cal situation. There afterwards issues from it a very
pretty butterfly, as richly clothed, and of the same
genus, as those of other miners.
9. Other insects live in great galleries of silk, which
240
they lengthen and widen as they grow: They cover
them with gross matter, and frequently with their ex-
crements. They construct those galleries on the various
bodies they feed upon, and which differ .according to
the species of the insect. The name of false motks has
been given to all such species as make those enclosures.
You are sensible,, that those of true moths are portable.
The most remarkable false moths are such as settle in
bee-hives, and destroy the combs. They are without
defensive arms, and are only secured with a soft and de-
licate skin; notwithstanding which nature has appointed
them to live at the expence of a little warlike people
that are well-armed, and equally well disposed to de-
fend their settlements. Our engineers have frequently
recourse to mines and saps in the reduction of places.
Jt is indeed abundantly necrs^ary that our false moth*
should excel in this kind of attack, and their works
prove that they do. They never march but under cover.
They scoop long trenches in the thick part of the combs,
in what direction they think proper, wherein they are
always in safety from the enemy. The galleries or this
kind are lined within with a very close silk tissue, and
covered on the outside with a thick layer of grains of
wax and excrements. Thus the fine works of the la-
borious bees are destroyed in silence by an enemy which
they are not able to discover, and that sometimes com-
pels them to abandon their hive. The false moths have
no intention to procure honey : they never penetrate
into the cells that contain it, They only eat the wax,
and their stomach analyses the matter which the chymist
cannot dissolve. When they have attained their full
growth, they make a silk cone at the end of the gallery,
which they never fail to cover with grains of wax.
Other false moths establish themselves in our gra-
naries, where they multiply excessively. They covet
our most valuable commodity. They connect together
several grains of corn j they spin a little tube in the
midst of this heap, where they lodge. By that means
they are always within reach of a. plentiful stock of
241
nourishment. They feed at their pleasure on the grains
of -vvhich .he v have been careful to forril their case, and
h are he a covering to it. When their metamor-
phosis approaches, they abandon, this case ; they nestle
in the inner part of a grain, or in the little cavities they
dig in the cieiings : these they line with silk, and there
transform themseiveb into a chrysalis.
10. There are few insects which claim so good a right
to our admiration as those that are equally skilful with
ourselve in making clothes, and that undoubtedly learned
the art before us. Like us, they are brought forth
naked ; but they no sooner come into the world,' than
they set about: clothing themselves. They do not all
dress in the same uniform manner, nor do they use the
same materials in their clothing. There is perhaps a
greater diversity with respect to this in the modes of
different species of moths, thaa in those of different
people on the earth. -The form of their dress is very
convenient: it corresponds exactly with that of their
body. It is a lit le cylindrical case, which opens at both
ends. The stuff is manufactured by the moth : the
ground of it is composed by a mixture of silk and hair :
but tlrts would not be soft enough for the insect; it is
therefore lined with pure silk. Our woollen furniture
and furs supply these moths with the hair they employ
in manufacturing their stuffs. They make a careful
choice of these hairs, cut them with their teeth, and art-
fully incorporate them in the silk tissue. They never
change their clothes : those they wore in their infancy,
they continue to wear v\hen arrived at maturity. They
can then lengthen or widen them as they find conve-
nient. They meet with no difficulty in extending them :
this they do by only adding new threads and hairs to
each end. But the widening them is not so easy a
matter : they proceed herein exactly as we do in the
like case. They slit the case at the two opposite sides,
and skilfully insert tw o pieces of the width required.
They do not slit the case from end to the other ; if they
did, the sides would start asunder, and be exposecj,:
242
they only slit each side about the middle of it. Reason
itself could not exceed this. Their dress is always of
the colour of the stuff from whence it was taken • if,
therefore, a moth, whose clothing is blue, passes over a
red piece of cloth, the widths will be red ; she will make
herself a harlequin's habit, if she passes over cloths
or stufTs of several colours. They live on the same
hairs they clothe themselves with. It is remarkable,
that they are able to digest them ; and it is still more
extraordinary, that the colours do not suffer the least
alteration by digestion, and that their excrements are
always of as fine a tincture as the cloths they feed on.
Painters may collate from our moths powders of all co-
lours, and all kinds of shades of the same colour. They
make little jouruies: those that settle incases, do not
love to walk on long hairs, but cut all they meet with
in their way, and are always provided with a scythe as
they march. They rest themselves from time to time,
when they fix this case with small cords, and thus cause
it, as it were, to ride at anchor : they fasten it more
firmly, when they are disposed to metamorphose them-
selves. They close up entirely both ends of it, in order
to clothe in it the form of the ^chrysalis, and afterwards
that of the butterfly.
1 1. Field moths greatly exceed the domestic moths in
point of industry. They take the substance of their clo-
thing from the leaves of plants ; but it becomes neces-
sary for them to prepare this matter, and give it that
lightness and flexibility proper for the garments. These
moths are of the species of miners 5 and they insinuate
themselves betwixt the two membranes of a leaf, which
are to them what a piece of cloth is to a taylor $ with
this difference, that the latter has occasion for a pattern,
which the moths can dispense with. They remove from
these membranes all the pulpy substance that adheres
to them, which membranes they make thin, and polish.
They afterwards cut in them, thus prepared, two pieces,
which are nearly equal, and like each other ; they la-
bour to give them the hollowness, windings, and pro-
4
portions, which the form of their case requires, and this
form is often of an exquisite k.nd. They connect and
unite them with incredible skill ; and conclude by lining
them with silk. They have then nothing to do but dis-
engage the clothing from within the liar' where it was
taken and cut, and that requires but a few efforts.
12. Many field and aquatic moths do not prepare the
stuff for their clothing. Bits of wood, little sticks,
fragments of leaves, pieces of bark, &c. placed on each
other like tiles, compose the external clothing of the
case, which consists of pure silk. At other times it is co-
vered with gravel, pebble-stones, pieces of wood, little bits
of reed, and small shells, either of muscles or snails ; and,
what is scarce credible, the snails and muscles continue
to live in these shells ; for, being in a manner chained
to the case, they are obliged to follow the moth, that
carries them wherever it pleases. Thus, a moth in its
clothing, does not appear unlike certain pilgrims : those
that are covered with wood, gravel, stones, and other
unwieldy matters connected together, pretty nearly re-
semble a Roman soldier in heavy armour. You rightly
judge, that such kind of clothes must needs be very
roughly formed: but some of them nevertheless ioqk
very pretty, in which the arrangement of the materials
makes amends for their coarseness. Aquatic moths
reap some advantage by dressing themselves in such a
strange manner. They must be always in equilibrio
with the water, in the midst of which they live. If
their case prove too light, they add a little stone to it;
if too heavy, they fasten some bits of reed to it. All
these moths metamorphose themselves in their case ;
some into butterflies, others iuto flies, and others into
beetles.
13. Some field moths borrow no strange matters to
clothe themselves with ; they dress entirely in silk ; but
their tissue is much closer, finer, and more glossy, than
that of the most beautiful caterpillars. It has a still
greater singularity ; being composed of little scales, like
VOL. IV. M
IMft
those of fishes, partly placed on each ether. The case
Las sometimes for its last covering a kind of mantle,
which almost entire!}' incloses it, and is composed of
two principal pieces, whose figure resembles that of a
llvalve shell. Moths that procure the matter for their
clothing from their own fund, must be able to lengthen
and widen it at pleasure ; the expense attending the ob-
taining of it was too great to admit of their making a
new one as often as there should be occasion : so that
they are able to enlarge it in a wonderful manner.
They do not add. breadths to it as the domestic moths
do ; but slit it from one part of it to another, according
to its length, and immediately fill up the intervals with
new threads, of a length proportioned to the space re-
quired. This case serves them likewise as a kind of
•cone, wherein they transform themselves into butter-
;flies.
You have taken a survey of the produce of a multi-
tude of different insects, and are with good reason
astonished at the prodigious variety contained in them,
all relative to one and the same general end, and all of
them likewise as much diversified as those of our arti-
zans. How does it happen, that a mpngst so many in-
sects as prepare themselves for their metamorphosis,
some hang by their hind part, others fasten themselves
\vith a girdle, whilst others make themselves cones I
Bow came it to pass, that of those that construct these
cones* some form them of pure silk, and others com-
pose them of matter of different kinds ? Why is the
form of these cones so various in different species?
Wherefore do some insects so artfully roll up the leaves
of plants, and others only fasten or fold them together?
How can we account for the mining of these leaves by
some only, and that the rest should not all mine them
In the same manner ? In short, how shall we assign a
reason why the nioths are not all clothed in the same
dress?
,£11 these wherefores, and a thousand others that may
'be formed on the productions of nature, are so many
enigmas proposed to beings that are banished into a
corner of the universe, and whose sight, as short as that
of' the mole, can only perceive the nearest objects, and
the most direct and most striking relations.
It behoves us to remain in the place that has been
allotted for us, from whence we can only discover some
links of the chain. One day we shall discover more of
them, and shall see them more distinctly. Meanwhile
we may consider these proceedings of insects, so diver-
sified and replete with industry, as an agreeable spec-
tacle, exhibited by nature to the eyes of the observer,
"that furnishes him with an inexhaustible source of re-
flective pleasure and useful instruction. He is led to
the AutHQR of the universe by the thread of the cater-
pillar, and he admires in the variety 0f their means,
and in their tendency to the same end, the fecundity
and wisdom of the ORDAINING MIND.
This sight becomes still more interesting, when the
observer undertakes to bewilder insects, and draw them
from their natural track : they then shew him resources
which he had not foreseen, and that surpass his expec-
tation. When false moths, of the wax species, are in
want of wax, they can make galleries of leather, parch-
ment, or paper. A caterpillar has been seen to con-
struct a cone of little pieces of paper which have been
given him, and that have been cut at pleasure : it has
taken hold of them with thfc teeth and fore legs, trans-
ported them to the place where it intended to fix,
ranged them there, fastened them with threads, laid
some of them edgewise, others $at ; forming of the
whole, it is true, an assemblage that appears a little
strange, but answering perfectly to a cone. It would
have given it a more regular figure, had it worked with
materials suited to its species. Ere \ve had learnt to
prepare and dress woollens and skins of animals, the
domestic moths were not without clothing ; they were
Kg
246
then perhaps habited in the same manner as ihejield
moths.
14. We do not expect to make any material disco-
veries from sh ell-Jish that are shut up in an almost
stony inclosure ; they seem very stupid ; but they are
not a!4 so senseless as they appear to be : we shall with
pleasure contemplate the proceedings of some of them.
Divers species of sea shell-fish are furnished with two
pipes, by means of which they suck in the water, and
which they take great care to keep raised above the
vessel they are accustomed to sink into more or less.
Some spurt out the water to the distance of several feet.
That particular part which in some performs the pro-
gressive or retrograde motion, very much resembles a
real leg with a foot joined to it; but this leg is a Pro-
teus, which assumes all kinds of forms to supply the
necessities of the animal. It does not only make use of
it to crawl with, sink into a vessel, or retire from it;
but employs it with much greater skill to perform a
motion that one would not imagine a shell-fish capable
of. A shell-fish that leaps, must appear very extraordi-
nary : it is a tellina that you are now seeing. You may
observe that she has placed the shell on the top, or
point. She stretches out her leg as far as possible; she
causes it to take hold of a considerable part of the cir-,
cu inference of the shell, and, by a sudden motion, simi-
lar to that of a spring that is slackened, strikes the
ground with her leg, and thus leaps to a, certain dis-
tance.
15. The cutler never creeps: it penetrates perpen-
dicularly into the sand. It there digs itself a sort of
cell, which is sometimes twro feet long, in which it goes
up and down at pleasure. Its shell, whose form a little
resembles that of the handle of a knife, has occasioned
it to receive the name of cutler: it is composed of
two long pieces, hollow like a gutter, and joined toge-
247
tlier by membranes. The body of the animal is in-
closed in a case. The part whereby it exercises all ltd
motions, is placed in the centre. This is principally
designed to perform the office of a leg, and acquits it-
self exceeding well : it is ileshy, cylindrical, and pretty
long. The extremity of it, when necessary, can roll it-
self up like a ball. View the cutler when extended on
the sand : you behold it working, in order to pierce into
it. It thrusts out its leg at the lower end of the shell ;
stretches it, and causes the extremity of it to assume
the form of a shovel that is sharp on both sides, and
terminates in a point : it directs it towards the sand,
and applies the edge and point for introducing it far-
ther. After the aperture is made, it extends its leg still
more, and causes it to penetrate deeper into the sand :
he bends it like a hook, with which taking hold of a
support, he draws the shell to him, forcing it upright by
degrees, and afterwards causes it to descend into the
hole. Is he disposed still to continue sinking? He
thrusts his whole leg out of the shell ; fixes in the sand
the ball which is then at its extreme part ; immediately
contracts this leg; his large head, which is strongly
fixed in the hole, being less inclined to re-ascend than
the shell is to go downwards, the cutler descends into
the sand, which is his first step into it : he has nothing
to do but to repeat the same operations, in order to ad-
vance farther and farther into it. Is he disposed to go
up again to the surface 1 He pushes forth the ball,
and at the same time makes an effort to extend his leg ;
the ball, which is averse to a descent, presses the shell
towards the top of the hole. It is pretty remarkable,
that the cutler, which lives in salt water, dreads the
touch of salt : if a pinch of it be cast into his hole, he
will come out of it immediately. But if he be caught,
and afterwards permitted to re-enter his cell, it will be
in vain to throw salt into it, since he will not quit it on
that account. It is said by some, that he remembers
having been taken ; and this is so true, that when peo*-
ple do not catch him, he may be made to come out at
one's pleasure, by throwing some fresh salt into the
M 3
248
hole. It seems> then, that lie is aware of the snare Hint'
is laid for him, and is unwilling to be taken by it.
16. Cast your eyes on this stone, which I have just
wow taken up from the sea-shore. A shell-fish fixes 1m
habitation in it. Observe, that on the surface of the-
stone there is a very little hole ; it is by that the shell-
fish has entered, and you may judge of the sniallness of
it by that of the aperture. We will break the stone
asunder, that we may see the animal that dwells in it.
How great must your suprise be ! You behold a great
shell-fish, near three feet in length, whose shell is formed
of three smooth pieces, joined together by a ligamentary
membrane. It is lodged in a great cavity, that is hollow
Ijke a funnel : the upper part of the cone is in the little
hole you see on the surface of the stone. This shell*
fish is a daily or pholas. How could it be able to pierce
so hard a stone? Or how go through so narrow a pas-
sage? Draw near this clayey shell which the wave has
just left. It is pierced through with a multitude of
such holes as you see in the stone you have in your
hand. All these holes are inhabited by young dails^
which are only a few lines long: they had then no oc-
casion to penetrate into a hard stone. Moist clay makes
but little resistance. But the sea insensibly converted :
this clay into stone : the dail, which at first found him-
self lodged in a soft earth, afterwards perceived that lie
was within a stone cell. We have seen that the cutler
can come out of his hole when he pleases : the dail
never quits his; nor indeed can he ; since the form of
this kind of cell will not admit of it. All that lie can
do is, to stretch out two pipes at the opening of the
hole, with which he receives and rejects the water: the
cutler does the same. You are impatient to be inform-
ed of the instrument with which the dail hollows his
cell : this instrument has no edge, to it; it is purely,
fleshy, arid shaped like a lozenge.
1.7. We will quit shell-fish for a time. Divers am-
puls of the sea will likewise entertain us with the \voji-
3-
(Fe'rs'of their Author. Let us bestow on them the at>
tention they deserve : what we are about to relate con-
cerning them, will be fbwid well deserving notice in-
natural theology.
On the rocks near the sea-shore you may perceive
little fleshy masses, of the size of an orange, whose form,
is like that of a counter-bag, and pretty nearly resem*
bling that of a cone when cut. All these masses seem
immovable, and connected with tbe rock by their base :
some of them are rough, others smooth. We have just
now compared them to a bag or purse, in which counters
are put; but this bag is not folded together, and is like-
wise without strings. They are nettles that you see, a
very singular kind of animals, that demand a closer at-
tention. The body of the animal is, in effect, inclosed
within a sort of fleshy purse, of a conic figure : at the
top of the cone is an opening, which the nettle increases
or contracts at pleasure.
Let us consider the sea-nettles that we have now he-
fore us. There is one that opens and unfolds itself like
a flower : it has put forth a hundred and fifty fleshy
horns, like those of snails, distributed in three rows
round the aperture. You remark, that little water-
spouts issue from these horns; consequently they do
not perform the same functions as those of snails ; they
are analogous to the pipes of dails, cutlers, and other
shell-fish which you have seen. You also remark, that
the form of these nettles varies greatly ; that their base
is sometimes circular and sometimes oval ; and that the
height of the cone varies according to the dimensions of
its base : it rises or falls as the base grows narrower or
wider. Touch one of these blown nettles : see with,
what quickness it closes and contracts itself. But you
perceive no progressive motion : are the nettles then
condemned to pass their whole life fixed to the same
spot ? The ancients thought so. What are we to think
of them] About an hour ago, this large nettle, which
you see on your right hand, touched this point of the
M 4
250
yock : observe that it is now above an inch distant from
it. You are surprised that 'you did riot perceive it
waik, for you looked at it more than once; the reason
of this is, because its progressive motion is as slow as
that of the hand of a clock. We may be curious to
know how the nettle performs it. All its body is ex-
ternally furnished with various orders of muscles : those
of the base go, like rays, from the centre to the circum-
ference ; others descend from the top towards the base.
These muscles are also canals, full ot liquor, which is-
sues out on pricking them : they are emptied and filled
at the pleasure of the nettle. By the exercise of these
muscles, or canals, the progressive motion is performed.
Let us follow the nettle when she is disposed to go for-
wards. Her base is circular. She swells the muscles
that are on that side whither she is tending. She injects
her l$TQor into them, which, by inflating, lengthens
them. They cannot extend themselves unless the edge
corresponding with the base shifts its place, and ad-
vances a little way : at the same time she loosens the
opposite muscles, and empties their canals. They con-
tiu'.-.i. 'I his they cannot do, except the edge of their
corresponding base goes in a little, and exactly in the
same degree as the opposite one projects. Such is the
mechanism whereby the first step of our nettle is per-
formed. In order to make a second, she causes the
base again to receive a circular form, by pulling up
equally all the canals : she afterwards repeats the same
operations we have just taken a view of.
The whole progressive motion of nettles is not con-
fined to this. They have another method of walking,
which more nearly resembles that of insects : they are
able to make use of their horns like legs. But these
horns are on the upper part of their body : the nettle
is fixed by its base against the rock : How do these
horns perform the office of legs 1 The nettle you are
following will shew you the method. She turns herself
upside down ; the base abandons the rock, and the cone
is placed on its top : all the horns shoot forth, and you
251
see them fix themselves to.. the rock. They are gluy
and rough to tiie touch ; for which reason they meet
with no difficulty in fastening to it.
18. Would you believe that an animal which is en-
tirely of a fleshy nature, and is provided with no instru-
ment to open or pierce the shell;?, feeds upon shell-fish?
Nettles that are but of a middling size swallow great
shell-fish ; and it is difficult to conceive how they are
capable of being lodged within the nettle. It is true,
the latter being entirely fleshy, is susceptible of a great
distension. , It is a sort of supple purse, that may be
stretched occasionally : the opening of the purse is pro-
perly the mouth of the nettle. Its inside not being
transparent, one cannot see what passes therein, or by
what means the nettle voids the shell-fish. The mo-
ment she has swallowed it, she closes herself. Look at
this young nettle that is shut up quite close : she has just
swallowed a pretty large snail, and is busy in digesting
it. She is now opening herself again, and discharging
the empty shell. On the side of her is another nettle,
which bespeaks your attention: she has swallowed a
great muscle, and is making ineffectual ' efforts jto void
the shell. She is not able to effect it : the shell pre-
sents itself in an unfavourable position at the aperture,
and you begin to be in pain for the unhappy nettle: she
has a resource that \ou did not imagine. Cast your
eyes towards the base; the shell is evacuated through
a lanje wound ; the nettle is delivered from it by that
means, and is no more affected by the great gash made
thereby, than we are by a scratch.
1.9- All nettles do not procure a discharge by so vio-
lent method; they have another, which they 'commonly
use with success. Tlrey turn themselves inside out, like
& glove or stocking, so that the edges of the opening,
which resemble lips, fold themselves on the base : the
mouth is then of a prodigious width, and the bottom ot
the purse almost uncovered.
M. 5
Kettles do not thus shift themselves merely to get"
rid of heterogeneous bodies ; they put themselves into
the same posture when they bring forth. They are vi-
viparous* The young are produced completely formed ;
and we see nettles in miniature appear. The aperture
through which they pass, is so wide as to admit a mul-
titude of them at the same time : notwithstanding which,
they always come forth singly. They are at first in-
closed in certain folds, concealed at the bottom of the
purse.
Do nettles resemble polypuses by the singular pro-
perty of being multiplied and grafted by slips] Expe-
riments have put this beyond all doubt. Of a single
nettle, divided according to its length or width, are made
two or three, which at the end of a few weeks are per-
fect and complete. They may likewise be grafted ; but
it will be necessary to have recourse to seaming. You-
are now no longer surprised at the consolidation of that
enormous wound made at the base of a nettle that issues
out thereat. A wound of this nature is nothing, when
compared to that which another animal sustains when
cut in pieces, without ceasing to live and multiply in
each piece. Nettles may then be called a species of
polypuses with arms of a monstrous size ; or, if you
prefer the expression, polypuses with arms are a species of
very minute nettles.
Let us quit these rocks that swarm with nettles, and
betake ourselves to that little creek where the sea is
very calm. Stoop a little, and observe the surface of
the water, What do you perceive? A kind of greenish
jelly floating upon it. Its form is like that of a broad
mushroom : it is near two feet in diameter. Take a
piece of it betwixt your ringers; handle it for a few mi-
nutes : you will see it dissolve into water. The heat of
your hand was sufficient to melt it. Does it enter into
your thoughts that this jelly is a real animal, and even
a species of nettle i It has been called wandering net*
253
tie, because it never fixes, and floats from one side ta
the other : its convex surface presents us only with an
infinite number of little grains or nipples. But its infe-
rior surface, which is concave, is extremely organized ;
in that \ve may see a great number of canals, which are
regularly disposed, and made with great art, some being
circular, and others disposed regularly, like the fellies
of a wheel, and which are full of a watery liquor, which
passes from one to the other.
This strange animal wanders about in the sea : it is
specifically much heavier than water. He cannot there-
in sustain himself without the assistance of a spontane-
ous motion, which is worth observing, and cannot be
seen but in places where the water is calm. It is so in
this little creek, on the extremity of which we are sit-
ting. Look with attention on the surface of that jelly
which offers itself to your view : observe that it has cer-
tain motions, which you are tempted to compare witli?
those of the systole and diastole. However, they are
not the same : their only end is to cause the nettle to
float. You see that in the systole kind, the surface of
the animal becomes very convex, and that in the diastole
it becomes suddenly flat and wide : such is our gluti-
nous nettle's method of floating. When, dried in the
, sun, it is reduced almost to nothing : we imagine that
we see a little piece of parchment, or very transparent
paste. There is no room to doubt that this species of
nettle multiplies, like the rest, by slips f but I do not
know that there has been any experiment made concern-
ing this. A jelly must be attended \\ith greater ease in
regenerating itself than organized bodies of the same
genus, that are of a more firm and close consistence.
20. There are no regular, or strange forms, of which
the animal kingdom does not afford us models. Here
is an animal whose form is precisely that bv which we
paint the stars in the firmament : it is nearly flat. From
the middle of its body proceed four or five ra>s. which
are almost equal, and resembling each other ; its upper
M 6
surface is covered with a hard, callous, and very rough
skin. In the centre of the inferior surface is placed the
mouth, which is provided with a sucker, that the star
makes use of to imbibe the substance of the shell-fish
she feeds upon. Five small teeth, or pincers, hold it
confined while she sucks them, and perhaps assist in
the opening his shell. The legs of the star are a real
curiosity : they are joined to her inferior surface, and
distributed! with symmetry in four rows, each consisting
of seventy-six feet; so that each ray is furnished with
three hundred and four feet, and the whole star with
fifteen hundred and twenty. Yet, with such a number
of feet, the star goes but little faster than the muscle,
which has only one. These legs perfectly resemble the
horns of the snail, both by their figure, consistence, and
exercise. When the star is disposed to walk, she spreads
her legs as the snail does her horns, and with the extre-
mity of them seizes the various marine bodies on which
she crawls. She commonly puts forth only one part of
her legs ; the remainder are kept in reserve against
those necessities which may happen. The mechanism
which presides over their motions is an illustrious proof
of a CREATIVE MIND. Let us open one of the rays
by slitting it lengthwise, and we shall display the priii;
cipal springs qf the machine. An ahuost cartilaginous
partition, made in the form of vertebrae, divides the
whole ray: in every part of this partition you perceive
two rows of little balls, like pearls of the finest water.
The number of these little balls is precisely equal to
that of the legs: thus you see that each ball answers to
a leg. You van distinguish a limpid liquor in these
balls; press your linger upon them; they empty them-
selves ; tiie liquor passes into the corresponding legs,
and they immediately extend themselves. The star
then need only press the balls in oider to spread the
legs. But they are capable of contraction, and when
they contract themselves*, they force the liquor back
again into the balls, from whence it may be driven
afresh iato the legs,- to procure a progressive motion.
You conjecture that these eggs, which resemble these
4
255
tubes, through which divers, kinds of shell-fish respire,
serve likewise for the same uses. Bat nature, who has
been so lavish in providing the star with legs, has been
also liberal in bestowing on it the organs of respiration;
she has even multiplied them in a greater degree. They
are very small conic tubes, disposed in knots, and pro-
duce an equal number of little water spouts.
Amongst our stars, you observe there are some which
have only two or three rays: and by looking more nar-
rowly at them, you discover several very minute rays,
just beginning to shoot out. Are then animals, that are
formed by a repetition of such a great number of parts,
both outward and inward, Degenerated like polypuses,
whose structure appears so simple? Nothing is more
true; and the stars you are now looking at will afford
you proof of it. These animals often chance to lose
two or three of their rays, and they are no more affected
by this loss than polypuses are by parting with some of
their arms. We may mangle stars, orcut them in pieces,
but cannot destroy them by that method : they will re-
cover from their ruins, and each piece becomes a new
star.
21. Sea-hedgehogs, like the land ones, derive their
names from their prickles. But those of the former are
quite different frbrn such as belong to the latter.
The form of these hedge hogs is that of around but-
.ton: it is hollow within, and its surface is elaborately
wrought. We might compare the workmanship of
them to that of certain 'copper, or wire buttons. A
multitude of tubercles, like little triangles, divide the
whole surface of the button : these triangles are sepa-
rated by stripes, which are regularly spaced, pierced
with holes, and distributed with great symmetry in se-
veral lines. These holes pass through from one part to
another, the whole thickness of the skeleton ; for the
body of our hedge hogs is a kind of bone-box. Each
hole is a socket, wherein is a fieshy horn, like those x>t a
snail, and susceptible of the same motions: there arc
therefore, as many horns as holes, and there are reck-
256
tmecl to be at least three hundred. The hedgehog, liker
the snail, makes use of her horns for feeling the earth,
and the various bodies it meets with in its passage: but
it particularly employs them to fasten with and cast
anchor. The tubercles are the bases of many prickles*
or legs; and their number amounts to at least two thou-
sand one hundred : so that there is hardly any part of
the body of a hedgehog that is destitute of a leg. It
can, for that reason, u a ik as well on the back as on the
belly ; and in general, let it be in what posture it will,
it has always a great number of legs ready to carry it,
and horns to fix it with. The legs il uses with the
the greatest ease, are those which surround the mouth ;
but when it pleases, can walk by turning round on it-
self like a wheel. On the back or the top of the but-
ton, is another aperture which is thought to be the
anus. * This then is an anirnai that is provided with at
least thirteen hundred horns, and two thousand one
hundred legs. What a great number of muscles must
it require to move so many horns and legs 7 How
many fibres must there be in each of these muscles 1
What an astonishing multiplication of parts in this little
animal ? What regularity, what symmetry, and even
harmony, in their distribution ! What variety in their
exercise !
When the hedgehog would advance, he draws him-
self forwards with those legs that are nearest the place
lie would go to, and pushes himself towards it with the
opposite ones : all the rest ^remain at that time in a
state of inaction. At the same time that one part of
his legs are at work, the horns that are nearest to then*
exert themselves to sound the way, or iirid anchorage
for the animal,
22. Most shelf-fish are produced with their clothing:
the shell they bear grows with them and by them. But
Bernard the hermit, a kind of cray-fish, so called, comes
into the world wiiho ;t a* shell, though he hu> need of
one in order to cover the «rre^f«.*r part of his body ;
whose thin and delicate skin would suffer too much from
- 257
Being naked. Has nature then behaved to it as a
mother, by denying it so necessary a garment ? By no
means: as she is beneficent towards every other ani-
mal, so has this likewise been the object of her atten-
tion. It is true, she has not provided it with a shell -y
but has made it amends by enabling it to clothe itself
with one. Taught by so great a mistress, our hermit
has the sagacity to take up his lodging in the first empty
shell he meets with : he applies himself indifferently to
all that are of a spiral construction. He often retires
so far into them, as not to be perceived, whereby the
s-hell appears empty : if the shell should prove too nar-
row, he quits it in order to seek for another, more suit-
able to his bulk. It is said, there sometimes happen
contests between our hermits about a shell, and that
victory is decided in favour of him who has the strongest
daws. Our battles have scarcely ever a cause of equal
importance for their object*
23. You have been already astonished at the skill
displayed in the progressive motion of several shell-
fish ; your amazement will be redoubled when you
learn that some of them can spin : and you are impa-
tient to see them at work. Let us walk on the sea-
shore. You there discover a number of muscles, some
by themselves, and others joined in companies. Con-
sider them more attentively, you will observe that some
of them are fastened to stones, or to each other, by a
great number of small slender strings. I-et us select
one of these muscles, that we may observe it more
closely, the better to discover their operations. Here is
one of them endeavouring to fix itself to this stone that
is near the surface of the water. The shell is partly
open; it has thrust out from it a kind of supple tongue,
Which it lengthens and contracts alternately. Remark
that it often applies the ends of it to the stone, and im-
mediately draws it back again into the shell, that k may
again put it forth the next moment. From the root of
this kind of tongue there issue certain threads, which
are equal in size to a hog's bristle. These threads part
258
from each other as they come out, and their extremity
sticks to the stone: these are as so many small cables
which hold our muscle at anchor. There are frequently
a hundred and fifty of these little cables employed in
mooring a muscle : each cable is scarcely two inches
long.
The muscle herself has spun all these cords. The
tongue not only serves them, as it does other shell-fish,
for arms to fasten themselves with, and for legs to creep
with, but is also the spinning instrument which produces
those numerous threads, by means of which the muscle
resists the impulse of the waves. From the root of the
tongue to iis extremity there is a groove, which divides
it, according to its length, into two equal parts. This
groove is a real channel, furnished with a great number
of small muscles, that open and shut it: in this channel
is contained a viscous liquor, which is the matter of the
threads emitted by the muscle. At its first appearance
this channel is exactly cylindrical, and is, properly
speaking, the place where h;e threads are moulded.
The various motions the tongue of the muscle, we are
observing, gave itself a minute ago, all tended to fix it
to the stone : those threads which are the whitest and
most transparent, are such as are newly spun. She has
not yet finished anchoring herself, wherefore you per-
ceive her tongue is again extending about two inches,
and the tip of it drawing towards the stone : the viscous
liquor runs in the channel, and arrives at the extremity
of it. This liquor is now consolidated, and becomes a
cylindrical : bread. The muscle sticks the end of his
thread to the stone; hut is desirous of applying it by a
wider surface, in order to render it more adherent : for
that purpose, she adds to it with the tip of her tongue,
that little paste which you observed. Her business now
is to extend another cable to some distance from- the
last : the tongue, therefore, must quit this latter in
order to work elsewhere. How will she be able to
effect this? The channel opens itself to its utmost
length, and discharges the thread. The tougiie being-
disengaged from his thread, quickly draws itself toge-
259
ther, re-enters the shell, and the next moment again
issues from it, to iix a new cable a little farther off.
Did you take notice of a mark of skill expressed by
our muscle ] She has just now spread the first thread ;
to assure herself of the goodness of it, she immediately
puts it to tiie proof; drawing it strongly towards her,
as though she would break it. It has resisted this
effort ; and, satisfied with the experiment, she has pro-
ceeded to stretch out the second thread, which she has
tried iike the first.
These cords, which the sea-muscles^ spin with so
much art, are, in reality, as serviceable to them as ca-
bles are to a ship. You ask me, whether they can
weigh anchor! Divers experiments prove they are not
endued with that ingenuity. It was not necessary for
them. But they sometimes drive with their anchors ;
it therefore behoves them to have fresh cables in re-
serve.
Thus the sea has its spinners as well as the earth.
Muscles are at sea the same that caterpillars are on
land. There is, nevertheless, a remarkable difference
between them. The work of caterpillars answers ex-
actly to that of gold wire-drawers. The silk thread is
moulded by passing through the mouth of the spinner,
and the caterpillar gives it what length she pleases;
which, in certain cones, consists of several hundred
feet. The labour ofr muscles may rather be compared
to that of workmen who cast metals. The spinning in-
strument of these shell-fish is a real mould, which does
not only determine the thickness of the thread, but also
its length, which is always equal to that of the spinning
instrument, or tongue.
The pinna? marince, which are species of very large
muscles, are more dextrous spinners still. Their
threads, which are at least seven or eight inches long,
are extremely fine, and curious works are made with
them. If muscles are caterpiilers of the sea, pinna?
38$ Its spiders. The threads of the pinnae serve, lii^
those of muscles, to moor them with, and defend them
from the agitation of the waves. They are prodigi-
ously numerous, and being united, form a kind of tuft
or skain, weighing about three ounces. The instru-
ment that prepares and moulds them, resembles, in the
essential properties of it, that of other shell-fish of this
kind ; except that it is much larger, and the groove that
divides it lengthwise is much narrower. At the root of
it there is a membranous bag, composed of several,
fleshy layers, that separate tire silk layers from whence
the tuft results.
24. If all kinds of shell-fish and sea-animals
not been enabled to moor themselves with as much
skill as muscles and pinnae, nature has made them
amends for thaJ by affording them means that are no
less efficacious. Before we quit this shore, let us stor>
a little while and examine this small shell-fish which.
you see fastened to this rock : it is a goafs eye, or a
limpet. Its shell, which consists of one piece only, is
made like a conic chapiter, under which the whole body
is sheltered, as under a roof: the animal can raise or
lower this covering as it pleases. When it lowers ii the
body is entirely concealed, and it rests immediately on
the stone. A large muscle that occupies the whole
extent of the shell, and that is, as it were, the base
of it,- fastens the animal to this stone. Try to dis-
engage ir from it ; \ou are not able lo effect it. It is,
nevertheless, only fixed to the stone by a base of an
inch and a half in diameter. Let us hoist a cord round
the shell, and suspend a weight of twenty-eight or thirty
pounds to. this cord, the shell-fish will not quit its hold
till after same seconds ; and you are surprised that so-
small an animal should be endued with so great a~
power of adhesion.- You are curious to know from
whence he derives this : you examine the stone, and it
appears to you to be finely polished, whereupon, your
astonishment is redoubled. Can it be that the muscle
is able to • insinuate itself into the insensible par'.* of tha
S6T
sttme ? Divide the animal transversely, it still adherer
as strongly as before. Does it cleave to the stone as
two pieces of polished marble cleave to each other?
But pieces of marble easily slip each other; and you
cannot cause the shell-fish so to do, This, then, is the
secret cause of that adhesion which astonishes you.-
The muscle 13 furnished with a viscous humour, which
agglutinates it to the surface of. the stone, and which is*
sensibly felt by touching it with the ringer.
But the goat's eye has not been condemned to re-
main. its whole life affixed to the same place: it is
necessary for it to go in search of its food. There is
one now creeping on the rock : its great muscle serves
him instead of legs, and performs the same functions
as that you have been made acquainted with in the
snail. The goat's eye, then, can disengage himself when
lie pleases : it is able to break those strings which are
with difficulty disjointed by a weight of eight-and-
twenty pounds. Moisten your finger, and stroke the
muscle with it ; the natural glutinous substance with
which it is endued, can no longer retain its hold. This
glue is dissoluble by water. The whole surface of the
muscle abounds with little seeds, filled with a dissolvent
liquor. When the animal is disposed to shift his
quarters, he need only press his numerous glands, the
dissolvent issues from them, and the cords are broken,
The goat's eye has but one certain provision of gluy
matter. If it he loosened from its place several
times together, its stock will be exhausted, and it will
not fix any more.
This method of mooring is common to divers sea-
animals. It is particularly so to nettles. Its whole
skin is one entire mass of glue, which dissolves **ery
speedily in aqua vitae. It is with this abundant giue
that these extraordinary animals fasten themselves to
the rocks.
5far*/foA«- also fix themselves by the same method^
263
A viscous matter is conducted to the extremity of tlie
horns that serve them instead of legs. These legs be-
come strong ties to them by means of the glue that ex-
sudes from them, and when they are once fastened, it is
eabier to break than separate them. The horns of
hedgehogs are exactly, of the same nature.
All these adhesions are voluntary, anc4 depend solely
on the good pleasure of the animal. He joins or dis-
joins himself as circumstances require. But there are
other adhesions, which are altogether involuntary. Sea-
worms, that are called pipe worms, are enclosed in a
round tube of a substance resembling that of shells,
and fastened to stones or hard sand, or even to other
shell-fish. This tube follows the turnings of the surface
to which it is fixed : the worm never quits this shell,
which he lengthens or widens as he grows. They recal
to your remembrance the false moths : this may be
termed a Jake moth of the sea. It emits from its whole
body a stony juice, whichris the matter whereof the
tube is formed.
Other worms of this species, whose juice is not of a
stony nature, but glutinous, make use of it for collect-
ing round them grains of sand, or bits of shells, and
this shell of inlaid pieces is notwithstanding wrought in
pretty exact proportion.
Oysters, and many other shell-fish, adhere by a
stony liquor to the bodies whereon they rest, and are
often by "this means cemented to one another. Of
such a species is that universal cement which nature
makes use of, as often as she would erect in the sea, or
establish therein a shell-work against the violent mo-
tion of the waves.
We have acquired but little knowledge of the industry
of fishes. They are not sufficiently within our reach.
The greatest part of them inhabit gulphs that are in-
accessible to our researches. We do not presume to
think, that all their intelligence is confined solely to
263
the devouring of each other. Their migrations are also
as remarkable as those of bird. They may ha\e need
of a kind of genius to enable them to chase their
prey with success, and elude the pursuit of their
enemies. The cuttle-fish scatters about, at a proper
season, a black liquor, which troubles the water, and
hides her from the sight of such fishes as attempt to
take away her life. Perhaps this liquor may be ser-
viceable to her in seizing, with the greater ease, those
she feeds upon. Other fishes can, with abundance of
art, penetrate into very hard shells, and extract from
thence the fleshy substance contained in them. We are
not yet acquainted with the use the sivord-fish, the saw-
fish) and the narval, or unicorn-Jisk, make of those
enormous instruments they wear at the end of their
snouts; but they are undoubtedly able to handle them.
Has not the cramp-fish, which so suddenly benumbs the
hand that touches it, a very remarkable method of pro-
viding for its safety, and an excellent art to propose to
the meditation of the natural philosopher? The jlying-
f.sht when pursured by others, darts out of the watry
element to take refuge in the air, where it is for a time
sustained by its great fins.
It is well known that carp are capable of being
tamed, and that they will hasten, like fowls, at a
certain signal, to receive food from the hands of their
provider.
It is probable that fishes are of all other animals en-
dued with the longest lives. We inve seen carp of an
hundred and fifty years old. Fishes transpire and
harden but little ; they have, properly speaking, no
bones : but they live in a state of perpetual warfare :
they all devour, or are devoured by others. Those
who attain to their age, must acquire an extensive
knowledge of things relating to the sea. Such Nestors
as these may be able to procure us some good memoirs
of the secret history of a people so little known.
25. We conjecture that the emigrations of birds de«
principally on the winds. An exact naturalist a:l
Malta has assured himself of this, that the same species
always change their climate with particular winds. In
April the south-west wind brings into that island a
species of plovers, arid the nortk-west, cardinals, and
•quails. Nearly at the same time, falcons, buzzards, and
other birds of prey, come with the north-west wind,
-without, stopping, and depart in October with the south
and west. In summer the easterly wind conducts the
snipes to Malta, and, towards the autumn, the north
and north-west bring thither numerous squadrons of
woodcocks. These birds cannot fly, like the quails, be-
fore the winds, since the north wind, which might
carry them into Barbary, obliges them to remain
in the isles. Quails, on the contrary, emigrate
before the wind from one country to another. The
•south-east enables them -to pass, in the month of March,
from Barbary into France. They return from France
in September, and go to Malta by a south-east. The
winds, therefore, are the signals employed by nature for
reminding divers kinds of birds of the time of their de-
parture. In obedience to this voice, they set out, and
follow the direction it points out to them.
What a series of interesting circumstances would not
the construction of their nests also present us with! A
chaffinch or goldfinch's nest would take us up -whole
hours in contemplating it We should enquire where
the ^goldfinch could furnish itself with a cot-ton so fine,
silky, and soft, as Hues the inside of its pretty nest!
After many researches, we should find that, by covering
the seeds of certain willows with a very fine cotton, na-
ture has prepared for the goldfinch the down she em-
ploys. We should never be weary of considering that
kind of embroidery with which the chaffinch so agreea-
bly adorns the outside of his nest, and, on viewing it
more narrowly, we should perceive that it is owing to an
infinity of little liverworts, artfully interwoven together,
and applied with the utmost propriety over the whole
surface of the nest. The colour of these liverworts,
which is most commonly that of the bark of the tree
,'On which the nest is situate, would indicate that tine
chaffinch seems to intend her nest should be confound-
ed with the branch that bears it.
26. Shall we visit the retreats of rats, Jidd~mlcey
Zadgers, Joxes, otters, dears. We should undertake
. thereby too tedious a journey. Let us limit ours-^ves
L to the rabbit and monkey , as the most curious after
those of the beaver.
The rabbit and hare, which bear so near a resem-
blance to each other, both in their exterior and interior
part, teach us not to trust to appearances : they easily
couple together, and produce nothing : they are, there*
fore, distinct species.
Moreover, the feeble hare contents herself with the
lodging she makes for herself on the surface of the
, earth. The more industrious rabbit penetrates into the
earth, and there procures an assured asylum. The
male and female live together in this peaceable retreat,
fearless of the fox or bird of prey. Unknown to the
rest of the world, they spend their days in happiness
and tranquillity.
The hare might also dig the earth, but does not,
neither does the domestic rabbit, since he has no occa-
sion ; his dwelling-place being provided for hhn, he be-
haves as if he was sensible of it. The warren-rabbit
seems to know that he is unprovided, and procures for
himself a lodging. But to perceive the relations those
.retreats have to their preservation, and to judge that
they will shelter them from all the inconveniences they
labour under, is an operation of the soul that borders
on reflection, if it be not reflection itself.
When the hare is ready to kindle, she digs for herself
a burrow. This is a winding trench, or one made in
zig-zag. At the bottom of this trench she works a great
cavity, lining it \vith her own hairs : that is the soft bed
she prepares for her young. She does not quit tuem
during several of the first days ; and only #oes out
afterwards to procure nourishment. The father at
4hut time juiaws nothing of his family ; he does not
266
dare to enter the burrow. When the mother goes into
the fields, fehe often takes even the precaution to stop
r.p the entrance of the burrow with earth steeped in her
urine. When they are grown somewhat larger, the
leverets begin to brouse the tender grass. The father
at that, time Acquires a knowledge of them, takes them
up in his paws, licks their eves, polishes their hair, and
distributes his caresses and cares equally amongst
them all.
Observations prove that paternity is greatly respected
amongst hares. The grandsire continues to be the
chief of the whole numerous family, and seems to go-
vern it like a patriarch.
27. The tricks of the monkey are known to every
body : no one is ignorant with what facility she is
tamed, and taught to dance and shew postures on a
staff. Her ingenious proceedings on the tops of the
Alps, where she fixes her abode, in the midst of snow
and frost, are not so generally known.
Towards the month of October she enters into win*
ter-quarters, and shuts herself up for the remainder of
the season : her retreat is worthy of observation. Oil
the brow of a mountain the industrious monkey estab-
lishes her dwelling. It is a great gallery dug under-
ground, and made like a Y. These two branches,
which have each of them an opening, terminate at a
corner. Such is the apartment of the monkey. One
of the branches descends below the apartment, accord-
ing to the sloping of the mountain ; it is a kind of
aqueduct that receives and carries off the excrements
and filth. The other branch, which rises above the
habitation, serves for an avenue and place to go out at.
The apartment is the only part of the gallery which is
horizontal. It is lined with a thick layer of moss and
hay. It is certain that monkeys are sociable animals,
•and that they work in common on their lodging.
They amass, during the summer, ample supplies of moss
and liay. Some mow the grass, others gather it, and
267
by turns they supply the office of a cart to convey it to
the storehouse. One of the monkeys lies on his back,
opens his paws to serve instead of racks, suffers himself
to be loaded with hay, and drawn by the rest, who
hold him by the tail, and are careful to prevent the
carriage being overturned on the road. Their feet
are armed with claws, which enable them with great
ease to dig into the earth. As soon as they have made
a hollow place in it, they throw behind them the dirt
they extract from the mine. They pass the greatest
part of their life in their habitation; they retire into it
during the rain, or on the approach of a storm, or at
the sight of some imminent danger. They seldom oLmt
it except in fine weather, and go but a little way from
it. Whilst some are sporting on the turf, others are
busy in cutting it, and a third party are acting as
scouts on the eminences, to give notice to the foragers,
by a whistle, of the enemy's approach.
During the winter monkeys eat nothing : the cold
benumbs them, suspends, or greatly diminishes per-
spiration, and other excretions. The fat, with which
their belly is well provided, passes into the blood and
restores it. We might affirm that they foresee their
lethargy, and are apprized that they shall then have no
need of nourishment ; for they do not think of hoard-
ing up provisions, as they do materials for furnishing
their lodging.
23. We have greatly admired the ingenious and
almost intelligent mechanism by which divers cater-
pillars roll up the leaves of trees. You see these ash-
leaves that are rolled up like a coffin. They are inha-
bited by a little caterpillar, that has formed for itself
therein a cone of pure silk, nearly resembling a grain
of corn. We cannot examine this cone without opening
the coffin ; let us do it with caution. The cone is lodged
it the centre : you perceive little gutters on the ex-
terior part of it. Observe particularly in what manner
this little cone is suspended iu the middle of the coffin,
by the help of a thread, one of whose extremities i$
VOL. iv. N
fixed to the top of the cone, and the other to its base,
or the flat part of the leaf. Look narrowly at the
place .where the thread joins to the fiat part of the
leaf: you will perceive a. small piece in it ex-
actly circular, bored in the thick part of the leaf,
and that seems to conceal some secret design. This
you will find in many cotfms ; but it often happens that
you will see in that place a little round hole, well
turned, that appears to have been made by a gimllet.
The circular piece is the work of the caterpillar, it has
skilfully gnawed that part of the leaf; and has cut a
little piece of it in a circular form, which it has been
very careful to leave in its place. You seem to discern
the end of this labour. It is contrived for a private
passage for the caterpillar to go out at, at the same
time that it prevents the entrance of any mischievous
insects. Our industrious caterpillar then makes a little
door into its celi : tbe door is not to be opened till
after the last metamorphosis. The winding parts of it
being interwoven with the leaf, .it remains as it were
subservient to it. In issuing from the cone the cater-
pillar descends by the whole length of the thread,
which holds it suspended ; it follows the direction of it,
arrives at the door, and bursts it open by pushing its
head against it. These coffins, which you see pierced
through, have been abandoned by the caterpillars.
29. Our grain is liable to be eaten by a very small
insect, that lodges within it, and is there metamor-
phosed. The covering of corn is a kind of very close
box, which the caterpillar lines with silk. But the
caterpillar is provided with no instrument to pierce
through this box, and would remain prisoner therein,
if the insect were not instructed how to prepare a pas-
sage from it. It proceeds in the same manner as the
roller of the ash; it cuts with its teeth a little round
place in the covering of the grain, which it is very
careful not to di engage entirely from it. The butterfly
need only press against this part, in ©rder to obtain its
liberty.
269
In the centre of the capper thistle there is a large ob-
long cavity, which is commonly inhabited by a small
caterpillar, that makes a sort of cone therein, where
she transforms herself. The rind of the thistle is much
harder than that of onr corn : it would be impossible
for the butterfly to force a passage through it. It
would have occasion for very strong teeth for that
purpose, and is furnished with no analogous instru-
ments. The caterpillar, which seems sensible of this,
makes a skilful provision for the necessities of the
butterfly. It pierces in different parts the walls of its
lodge, and makes a small round hole in it, opposite the
extreme part of the cone which the butterfly is to go
out at ; but, where this hole to remain open, the chry-
salis would be too much exposed. The caterpillar con-
trives a very simple expedient for stopping up the aper-
ture. The whole exterior part of the head of the
thistle is covered with the seeds of the plant. The
caterpillar brings some of these little bodies to the out-
side of the hole.
In treating of the proceedings of aquatic moths, we
have remarked that they transform themselves in their
case. There must be a continual fresh supply of
water in this enclosure : yet, no voracious inject, -should
be allowed access to it. Instead of placing a full made
door at the entrance of its lodge, the moth puts a
grated one there, w Inch answers every end. Let us not
attribute our method of reasoning to this moth. Does
she know that voracious inserts have a design against
her life ] Is she sensible that she will put on a form
under which she will not be able to fly] No; she is
ignorant of all this; nor does it concern her to know
it. She has been taught to spread threads that are
capable of growth ; she does spread them, in so doing,
she provides by a machine against the inconveniendes
which she neither knows or can know. Judge on the
same principle of other facts of this kind. It is always
the AUTHOR of the insect who alone is to be esteemed
wonderful.
270
30. I need not then endeavour, from the end which
we distxm , : uo.k oi an industrious animal, to
find a reason for this work. I would not say, The
spider spreads a net tn catch the files ; but that the
spider catches the files because she spreads a net, £c.^
and she forms a ntt, because she has occasion to spin.
The end is not less certain, or less evident ; only, it is
not the animal that has proposed ir, but the AUTHOR
of the animal. What loss would natural theology sus-
tain by this method of reasoning 1 Would it not, on
the contrary, acquire a greater degree of exactness ? Let
us reason then on 1h& operations of animals as we do
on their structure. The same WISDOM which has con-
structed and arranged with so much art their various
organs, and has caused them to concur to one deter-
minate end, has likewise caused those numerous opera-
tions, which are the natural effects of the economy of
the animal to contribute to one end. He is directed
towards his end by an invisible HAND ; he executes
with precision, from the very beginning, the works
which we admire; he seems to act as if he was ca-
pable of reasoning, to turn about with propriety, and
to change his method as there is occasion, and in all
this only obeys those secret springs by which he is
actuated; he is only a blind instrument that cannot
judge of his own action, but is excited 1o it by that
ADORABLE MIND which has traced out to every in-
sect his little circle, as he 4ias marked out to each
planet its proper orbit. When, therefore, I see an
insect working on the construction of a net, a cone
or a chrysalis, I am seized with respect, because I
am beholding a sight where the SUPREME ARTIST is
concealed behind the scene.
3 1 . Many species of solitary bees content them-
selves with penetrating into the earth ; scoop out cy-
lindrical cavities therein, and polish the walls. They
deposit an egg there, and amass a sufficient quantity
of nourishment.
There is another species of these worms that pierce
271
the earth, whose industry is much more remarkable^
They do not content themselves, like the others, with
an entire naked cavity. On visiting the inside of the
lodge, immediately after its construction, we are agree-
ably surprised to see it hung quite round with tapes-
try, of the most beautiful crimson satin, affixed to the
sides, as our tapestry is to the wails of our apart-
ments, but with much more propriety. The bee does
nol only line i« this manner the whole inside of her
dwelling; but also spreads the same kind of tapes-
try round the entrance, to the distance of two or'
three lines. We have observed many Caterpillars that
line the inside of their cone or inclosure with silk :
our bee is the only insect at present known which,
properly speaking, hangs her nest with tapestry, as
we do our apartments. It is, therefore, with good
reason that this industrious animal has received the
name of the tapestry-bee.
You seem at a loss to know from whence she pro-
cures the rich tapestry. Look at the flowers of this
wild-poppy, which are newly blown ; observe that they
are slopeu here and there. Compare them with the
tapestry whose tissue you are desirous of knowing ; you
cau find no difference between them: this tapestry is
no other than the fragments of the flowers of the wild-
poppy ; and that is the secret origin of those slopings
you remark on the poppies that border upon the nest.
Your curiosity is itot yet satisfied ; you are desirous of
observing a little the labour of our skilful worker in
tapestry.
The hole which she digs perpendicularly into the
earth, is about three inches in depth : it is exactly cy-
liadrical, as far as to seven or eight lines of the bottom.
There it begins to open wider, which it does more and
nnore. When the bee has made an end of giving it the
suitable proportions, she proceeds to line it with the
tapestry.
With this view, she applies herself to cutting, with
abundance of art, pieces of petals,* of an oval form,
* This is the name given by botanists to the leaves of flowsrs,
N 3
373
frcrn the flowers of the wild-poppy, which she seize*
wi'h her legs, and conveys i sto her hole. These little
scraps of tapestry, when transported thither, are very
much crumbled ; but the tapestry-bee knows how to
spread them cut, display them, and affix them to the
walls \\ith astonishing ait.
She applies at least two layers of the petals. She
spreads two tapestries on each other. The reason of
her furnishing herself with it from the flowers of the
wild-poppy, rather than from those of many other plants,
is, because in them are united, to a higher degree, all
those qualities which are requisite for the use to which
the bee designs to put them. '
When the pieces which -the bee has cut and trass-
ported, are found to be too large for the place they are
intended to occupy, she cuts off the superfluous parts of
them, and conveys the shreds out of the apartment.
After h;; tapestry, the bee fills the nest with
paste, to tLfc height of seven or eight lines: this is all
that is necessary for the nourishment of the worm. The
lape&try is designed to prevent the mixture of particles
of earth wiih *he paste.
You expect, undoubtedly, that tlie prudent bee should
nt-t'fuil to close up effectually the aperture of the nest,
in order to hinder the access of those insects into it
that are fond of the paste ; this she takes proper care
to do : and it is utieriy impossible for you to discover,
from the surface of the ground, the spot where the nest
\vas, whose construction you have just been contem-
plating,- such is the skill employed by the bee in closing
it. This little white pebble was at the edge of the
hole, or very near it ; it has not changed its place, and
indicates to us the part beneath which the nest is we
are searching for. It seems then as if we should have
nothing IM re to do than to raise up a light layer of
earth, in order to- expose to view the entrance of the
hole, whirh hay been so well closed. Nothing can be
easier or less doubtful. How great is your surprise !
you have already taken up two or three inches of the
earth in depth, and you cannot find the least appear-
213 ~ -
anc.e either of the hole or the tapestry. What can this
mean I What is become of the nest that was so skil-
fully constructed, so properly lined, and was upwards
of three inches deep ? A few hours since, you admired
the ingenious "contrivance of it, and now the whole has
disappeared, so that you cannot discover the least t.ace
of it. What mastery then is this] It is effected as
follows :
When the bee has done laying, and amassed her
quantity of paste, she takes down the tapestry, folds it
over the paste, which she wraps together in it, pretty
nearly as we fold on itself a cotrin or paper that is half
full : the egg and paste are by this means inclosed
within a little bag of flowers. The bee has then nothing
farther to do, but to fill up with earth all the void
space that is above the bag ; and this she performs with
such wonderful activity and exactness, as utterly to con-
ceal the place where the nest was.
If a hare does not possess, like the rabbit, the art of
digging* for himseif a burrow, he does not, however,
want a sufficient degree of sagacity to enable him to se-
cure himself, and escape from his enemies. He< can,
choose for himself a form, and conceal himself betwixt
clods of earth that resemble the colour of his hair. In
winter, he takes up his lodging to the south, and in
summer time to the north ; \vlieia started by the dogs,
he pursues the same track for some time, goes the same
way back -again, darts aside, throws himseit into a bush,
and there squats down. The pack follow the path,
pass before the hare, and lose scent of him.
The crafty animal sees them pass by and run far
from him, he issues from his retreat, confounds his
course, and puts the hounds- to a loss. He varies his
shifts continually, and always conducts them as his cir-
cumstances require. Sometimes at the cry of the hounds,
he quits his form, speeds away to the distance of a
quarter of a league, casts himseif into a pond, and lies
. Jiid among the rushes. At others, he mingles with a
flock of sheep, and will not abandon them. One time
274
lie conceals himself under ground : at another leaps
under a ruinous wall, crouches among the ivy, ancf lets
the dogs pass him. Oftentimes he runs along one side
of a hedge, whilst the dogs go on the other. Some-
times, by several efforts, he swims across a river. Lastly,
at others, he obliges another hare to quit the form, in
order to supply his place, &c.
The stag, which by the elegance and lightness of his
make, by those living branches with which his head is
rather adorned than armed, his size, strength, and noble
air, is one of the graad ornaments of the forest, is en-
dued with more subtlety than even the hare, and finds
more exercise for the sagacity of the huntsman.
When pursued by the hounds, he passes and re-passes
several times on his track ; eludes their pursuit by as-
sorting himself with other beasts, darts forward, and
immediately flees to a distance ; starts aside, and steals
away, and lies prostrate on his belly. The land be-
traying him every where, he betakes himself to the
water. The hind, that nourishes her young, presents
herself to the dogs, in order to facilitate the escape of
her young; she runs away with swiftness, and afterwards
returns to it.
32. The fox, celebrated for his subtlety, is no less
circumspect than skilful, no less vigilant than crafty 5
he weighs cautiously the least of his measures, studies
circumstances, watches incessantly, and has always some
contrivance in reserve to assist him upon an exigency.
His genius, so fruitful in resources, multiplies almost to
infinity his shifts and stratagems.
Though extremely fleet in running, he does not trust
to his natural swiftness : he judges that that alone would
not be sufficient for his preservation. He works for
himself a timely asylum under ground ; where he takes
refuge in case of necessity, and lodges, and brings up
his family.
He establishes his dwelling-place on the border of
woods, aed m the neighbourhood of farm-houses. He
275
listens afar off, with an attentive ear, to the cackling of
poultry, directs his steps accordingly, arrives hy several
winding ways, squats himself down, passes along on his
belly, lies in ambuscade, and rarely iails in his attempt.
If he is so happy as to penetrate into the inclosure,
he employs to good purpose every moment of his time,
and slaughters the whole stock. He immediately re-
treats, carries away with him one of the prey, conceals
it, returns in search of another, hides that like the
former, and does not cease from plundering, till he per-
ceives he has been discovered.
He is amazingly skilful in hunting young leverets,
surprising the hares when laying down, in discovering
the nest, of'partridges, or quails, and seizing the mother
on her eggs.
Equally 'bold as crafty, he has even the courage to
attack bees : he attempts to get their honey, which he
is very fond of. These warlike insects presently assail
him on all sides, and in a few moment^ he is entirely
covered with them. He retires some paces, rolls him-
self on the ground, crushes them by that means, returns
to the charge, and at length obliges this little laborious
people to abandon to him the fruits of their long la-
bours.
I shall add but one more instance : if the fo* disco-
vers that his young have been disturbed during his ab-
sence, he transports them, one after another, to a new
place of retreat.
276
CONCLUSION.
Hi
.ERE I set bounds to my design. I have presented
my readers with a variety or' facts of an interesting
nature, sufficient to enable them to form an idea of
those pleasures which result from the contemplation of
nature. But this contemplation would prove fruitless,
did it not lead us to aspire incessantly after thia ador-
able BEING, by endeavouring to acquire a knowledge
of him, from that immense chain of various produc-
tions wherein his power and wisdom are displayed with
such distinguished lustre< He does not impart to us
the knowledge of himself immediately ; that is not the
plan he has chosen ; but he has commanded the hea-
vens and the earth to proclaim his existence, to make
him known to us. He has endued us with faculties
susceptible of this divine language, and has raised up
men who explore their beauties, and become their
interpreters. Imprisoned for awhile in a small obscure
planet, we only enjoy such a portion of light as is
suitable to our present condition : let us wisely improve
277
each glimmering ray reflected upon us, nor lose the
smallest spark : let us continually advance in this Efful-
gent Light ! A time will come, when T;ve shall draw all
light from the Eternal Source of Light, and instead of
contemplating the Divine Architect in the works eft
his hands, shall contemplate the workmanship in the
OMNIPOTENT AUTHOR thereof. " We now see
things as through a glass darkly ; but we shall then see
face to face."
END OF THE FOURTH VOLUME.
Printad by J. D. Dewick, 40 y Barbican.
CASE
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