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1533 MEMOIRS
SCM{RE
OF

BARON CUVIER.

INTRODUCTION.

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

When death has torn from us those whom we have most
loved and revered, and the overwhelming bitterness of grief
is past, the first feeling which awakens us from our sorrow
is the desire to uphold the memory, and to make known te
all men the virtues of the being enshrined in our hearts; a
feeling which springs, not only from an honest pride in
doing justice to one who is no more, but from a desire that
posterity should benefit by the example. Rousing myself,
then, from the stunning grief which at first assailed me, I
eagerly sought all the public notices which appeared in
England concerning the Baron Cuvier, in the hope of find-
ing something equal to his high deserts; but though all did
him the justice of placing him above every other natu-
ralist, not one spoke of his talents as a legislator, and all
equally neglected his private character. ‘This, and the
almost universal incorrectness of detail, no doubt proceeded
from ignorance rather than intention ; yet, disappointed as
{ was that my countrymen should have so little known and
appreciated one of the most admirable persons of our time,
nothing, at that moment, could be further from my thoughts
than to supply the deficiencies by my own pen.

A ' INTRODUCTION.

Most of those who were either anxious to inquire of me
concerning the surviving family, or who were kindly so
citous about myself under sucha calamity, seemed to thin
it a matter of course that [ should publish some particulars
of my lost friend; but although this certainly suggested the
possibility of doing so, I still felt my own inadequacy too
deeply to do other than refuse the undertaking. Ina few
weeks, however, I was solicited in one or two influential
quarters to write a short memoir for one of our public jour-
nals, and afraid to trust solely to my own reminiscences, |
applied to the relatives of Baron Cuvier for data. These
data were contributed with a readiness which vouched for
the sentiments of the family, and I seriously applied to the
task. Recollection crowded upon recollection, anecdote
upon anecdote, till, in a short time, it became very difficult
to select from the mass. Long did I hesitate from the con-
viction of my own inability ; but the universal desire ex-
pressed to me that I should publish the documents which

abundantly flowed from the best sources, and the anxiety
evinced to know something of the private character and
domestic habits of the great man, seemed to point out that
part of his career which alone I was worthy to describe.
Reflection whispered, that I was able to correct the many
errors afloat ; that, perhaps, I was the only one in Engiand,
who, from having been received into the bosom of his
family, could personally speak of various circumstances and
events ; and when I thought of all the affection and kind- '
ness I had received, I began to feel that there would be a
degree of ingratitude in remaining silent, and determined
that I would, independent of all other publications, attempt
to lay open to the English world the noblest part of the
gifted individual—his heart.

Such is the chief purport of the present biography; the
labours of M. Cuvier speak for his wonderful mind; and
time alone can show, to its full extent, the influence of that
mind upon science. 'T’o time also must we look for an im-
partial opinion upon his political career; but it is only for
those who have lived with him to do justice to his high
moral virtues ; and in the hope that this little volume may
serve, when I have followed the illustrious subject of it te

ie

INTRODUCTION. 5

the grave, as a basis for a more extended publication, I offer

a narrative of facts.
Having thus, I trust, obviated every feeling of disgust
which accompanies all kinds of presumption, and which
would, most probably be attached to me, were [ to dare to
think myself qualified for a biographer of savants, there yet
remains something for me to say to those to whom I am
unknown; for, when an individual starts from a private
circle to give an account of an illustrious public character, it
becomes necessary to vouch for the veracity of details, and to
explain the opportunities afforded for observation. his
will be best done by a short history of my intercourse with
the Cuvier family, an introduction to whom took place
through our mutually cherished friend, Dr. Leach, of the
British Museum.

Mr. Bowdich had returned from his second, and I from
my first, voyage to Africa, in the year 1818, and shortly
after Mr. Bowdich proceeded to Paris, where his reputation,
as the successful African traveller, was already known.
The letter of Dr. Leach was scarcely necessary with the
Baron Cuvier, who received him with that warmth and
encouragement which always marked his conduct towards
men of talents younger than himself, that interest which
he extended to all who were devoted to science. Struck
with the facilities afforded for study in the French capital,
Mr. Bowdich determined to remain there some time, in
order to qualify himself for the principal object of his ambi-
tion, a second travel in Africa. We both accordingly went
to Paris in 1819; and from that moment the vast library
of the Baron Cuvier, his drawings, his collections, were
open to our purposes. We became the intimates of the
family, with whom, for nearly four years, we were in daily
intercourse. We left France with their blessings; and on
returning alone to Europe, [ was received even as a daugh-
ter. My correspondence with M. Cuvier’s daughter-in-law,
and other branches of the family, has been uninterrupted
since that period ; [ have paid them repeated visits at their
own house ; and for fourteen years not a single shadow has
passed over the warm affection which has characterised our
intimacy.

And now, having stated my motives, and my claims to

rs

6 INTRODUCTION.

confidence, I have to express a sincere gratitude towards
those who have assisted me, either by their notes or thei
works,” and to give an outline of the plan I have thoug
it necessary to adopt.

Unwilling to incur the risk of confusion, by mingling too
much anecdote, either with my narrative of events or de-
scription of scientific and legislative labours, I have divided
the present volume into four parts or portions, that each
may bear its own share of detail. The first will give the
data of all the important circumstances of the Baron
Cuvier’s life, in their respective order ; the second will con-
tain an account of his various works, as a savant and pbi-
losopher ; the third will be devoted to his legislative career ;
and the fourth will be chiefly confined to those anecdotes
which will best illustrate his character as aman. In follow-
ing this method, I may, probably be led into something like
repetition ; but I hope I shall be excused, if each part shall,

be found to contain a whole in itself, which facilitates refer-
ence.

* Foremost among these are, Baron Pasquier, M. Laurillard, Dr. Dw-
vernoy, and the Baron de H+epx.( s //

&

Bi Ate Viel.

GeorGE Leropotp CHRETIEN FReDERIC DacoBErT
Cuvier was born at Monthéliard (département du Doubs)
on the twenty-third of August, 1769. This town now be-
longs to France, but at that time formed a part of the king-
dom of Wiirtemberg. His family came originally from a
village of the Jura, which still bears the name of Cuvier,
and settled at Montbéliard at the period of the Reformation.
The grandfather of the subject of the present biography
had two sons; one became celebrated for his learning, and
the other, the father of George Cuvier, entered a Swiss
regiment then in the service of France. Having much
distinguished himself in his military duties, he was made
Chevalier de ?Ordre du Mérite Militaire,* which among
the Protestants, was equal to the catholic Croix de St.
Louis; and, after forty years service, he retired, with a
small pension, to Montbéliard, where he was afterwards
appointed commandant of the artillery in that town. At
fifty years of age he married a young lady, gifted with
much talent and feeling, by whom he had three sons.
The eldest died while his mother was pregnant with her
second son, which event preyed so much upon her health,
that her infant, George, came into the world with a con-
stitution so feeble, that his youth scarcely promised man-
hood. ‘The cares of this excellent mother, during the ex-
treme delicacy of his health, left an impression on M.
Cuvier which was never effaced, even in his. latest years,
and amid the absorbing occupations of his active life. He
cherished every circumstance connected with her memory ;
he loved to recall her kindnesses, and to dwell upon objects,
however trifling, which reminded him of her. Among
other things, he delighted in being surrounded by the flow-

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

8 MEMOIRS OF

ers she had preferred, and whoever placed a bouquet of red
stocks in his study or his room, was sure to be rewarded b
his most affectionate thanks for bringing him what he cal
ed “the frvourite flower.” But this well-judging parent
did not confine her cares to his health alone; she devoted
herself equally to the formation of his mind, and was
another proof of the influence that a mother’s early atten-
tions frequently shed over the future career of her son.
She guided him in his religious duties, taught him to read
fluently at the age of four years, took him every morning
to an elementary school, and, although herself ignorant of
Latin, so scrupulously made him repeat his lessons to her,
that he was always better prepared with his tasks than any
other boy at the school. She made him draw under her
own inspection; and, by constantly furnishing him with
the best works on history and general literature, nurtured
that passion for reading, that ardent desire for knowledge,
which became the principal spring of his intellectual exis-
tence. As he advanced in drawing, his progress was super-
intended by one of his relations, an architect in the town of
Montbéliard; and he successively passed through all! the
exercises of this first school, repeating the usual catechisms,
the psalms of David, and the sonnets of Drelincourt, &c.,
withthe utmost facility. At ten years of age he was placed
in a higher school, called the Gymnase, where, in the space
of four years, he profited by every branch of education
there taught, even including rhetoric. He had no difficulty
in acquiring Latin and Greek, and he was constantly at the
head of the classes of history, geography, and mathematics.
The history of mankind was, from the earliest period of his
life, a subject of the most indefatigable application ; and
long lists of sovereigns, princes, and the driest chronologi-
cal facts, once arranged in his memory were never forgot-
ten. He also delighted in reducing maps to a very smal!
scale, which, when done, were given to his companions; and
his love of reading was so great, that his mother, fearing the
effect of so much application to sedentary pursuits, frequent-
ly forced him to seek other employments. When thus
driven, as it were, from study, he entered into boyish sports
with equal ardour, and was foremost in all youthful recrea-
tions. It was at this age that his taste for natural history

BARON CUVIER. 9

was brought to light by the sight of a Gesner, with coloured
lates, in the library of the Gymnase, and by the frequent
isits which he paid at the house of a relation who possess-
ed a complete copy of Buffon. Blessed with a memory that
retained every thing he saw and read, and which never
failed him in any part of his career, when twelve years old
he was as familiar with quadrupeds and birds as a first-rate
naturalist. He copied the plates of the above work, and
coloured them according to the printed descriptions, either
with paint or pieces of silk. He was never without a
volume of this author in his pocket, which was read again
and again; and frequently he was roused from its pages to
take his place in the class repeating Cicero and Virgil. The
admiration which he felt at this youthful period for his great
predecessor never ceased, and in public, as well as private
circles, he never failed to express it. ‘The charms of Buf-
fon’s style, a beauty to which M. Cuvier was very sensible,
had always afforded him the highest pleasure, and he felt 2
sort of gratitude to him, not only for the great zeal he had
evinced in the cause.of natural history, not only for the en-
joyment afforded to his youthful leisure, but for the many
proselytes who had been attracted by the magic of his lan-
guage. When the student had ripened into the great mas-
ter, M. Cuvier found me deeply absorbed by a passage of
Buffon ; and he then told me what his own feelings had
been on first reading him, and that this impression had
never been destroyed in maturer years. He had been
obliged for the sake of science, to point out the errors com-
mitted by this eloquent naturalist, but he had never lost an
opportunity of remarking and dwelling on his perfections.
At the age of fourteen we find the dawning talents of the
legislator manifesting themselves; and the young Cuvier
then chose a certain number of his schoolfellows, and con-
stituted them into an academy, of which he was appointed
president. He gave the regulations, and fixed the meetings
for every Thursday, at a stated hour, and, seated on his
bed, and placing his companions round a table, he ordered
that some work should be read, which treated either of
natural history, philosophy, history, or travels. The merits
of the book were then discussed, after which, the youthful
president summed up the whole, and pronounced a sort of

10 MEMOIRS OF

judgment on the matter contained in it, which judgment was
always strictly adopted by his disciples. He was even then
remarkable for his declamatory powers, and on the anni-
versary féte of the sovereign of Montbéliard. Duke Charles
of Wiirtemberg, he composed an oration in verse, on the
prosperous state of the principality, and delivered it fresh
from his pen, in a firm manly tone, which astonished the
whole audience. Like most of the young people at Mont-
béhard, whose talents rendered them worthy of it, and
whose parents were not possessed of fortune, he was destined
for the church, A free school had been founded for such
boys at 'Tiibingen, where they received a first-rate education.
But the chief of the Gymnase at Montbéliard, who had
never forgiven the young Cuvier for some childish tricks,
changed his destiny by placing his composition in the third
rank, when the pupils presented their themes for places.
George Cuvier felt that his production was equally good
with those which had hitherto been judged worthy of the
first rank, and at the important moment, when his station
at college depended on his success, he was, for no conscious
fault, kept back. He became disgusted, and abandoned all
thoughts of 'Tiibingen, to which place he was only desirous
of going as a means of pursuing his studies; and, fre-
quently, in after-life, he expressed himself most happy at
the changes which resuited from this piece of injustice.
Informed of the progress of the young Cuvier, and hear-
ing the highest encomiums of him from the Princess, his
sister, the Duke Charles, uncle to the present king of Wiir-
temberg, when on a visit to Montbéliard, sent for him, and,
after having asked him several questions, and examined his
drawings, declared his intention of taking him under bis
special favour, and sending him to the University of Stutt-
gard free of expense, there to enter into his own Academy,
called the Académie Caroline. He was then only fourteen,
but, in consequence of the preparation he had undergone at
the Gymnase of Montbéliard, he was able to take his place
among the most celebrated students of the Academy. He,
at this age then, quitted the paternal roof for the first time:
he was sent among strangers without having an idea of
the establishment he was about to enter ; and even in his
latest years he often said, that he could not recall to memo.

'

me

BARON CUVIER. ti

ry this three days journey without a sensation of fear. He

was seated between the Chamberlain and Secretary of the
Duke, both entirely unknown to him, and who spoke noth-
ing but German the whole way, of which the poor child
could not understand one word. On the 4th of May, 1784,
he entered the Académie Caroline; and during the four
years he passed there, he studied all that was taught in the
highest classes,—mathematics, Jaw, medicine, administra-
tion, tactics, commerce, &c. After applying himself for one
year to philosophy, as his particular object, he then chose
the study of administration, which, in Germany, embraces
the practical and elementary parts of law, finance, police,
agriculture, technology,* &c., and was principally led to this
preference, because it also afforded him many opportunities
of pursuing natural history, of herborising, and of visiting
collections. He, on all occasions, enthusiastically profited
by these opportunities, for the cultivation of his darling
taste; he frequently read over Linneus, Reinhart, Mur,
and Fabricius. In his walks he collected a very considera-
ble herbarium ; and, during his hours of recreation, he
drew and coloured an immense number of insects, birds,
and plants, with the most surprising correctness and fidelity,
and to which drawings he would frequently return with
pleasure, when the naturalist was perfect in his career.
But it was the same in every thing ; for that versatility of
talent, which made him the wonder of all who knew him
as a man, seems to have distinguished hiin in early years.
He obtained various prizes, and the order of Chevalerie,t—
an honour which was only granted to five or six out of four
hundred pupils ; and nine months after his arrival at Stutt-
gard, he bore off the prize for the German language.

The youthful Cuvier was destined solely to fill the higher

* Technology is the theoretical part of mechanical science, independent
of the practical ; a knowledge of which was thought absolutely indispen-
sable to one taking a part in administration.

1 ‘The chevaliers dined at a separate table, and enjoyed many advanta-
es, as being under the immediate patronage of the Duke. ‘The lessons of
1. Kielmeyer, afterwards called the father of the philosophy of nature, «

student much older than himself, were of infinite service to M. Cuvier at
this time, as from him he learned to dissect, and with him, Messrs. Pfaff,
Marschall, Hartmann, &c. a society of natural history was formed; and
he who brought the best composition to the meetings received an order,
beautifully drawn by M. Cuvier.

12 MEMOIRS OF

departments belonging to the government of his country ;
but the pecuniary embarrassments of his parents render
it impossible for him to wait two or three years, till an op-
portunity of appointing him should occur to the Duke.
‘The disordered state of the finances in France was so great,
that even the payment of his father’s pension had ceased,
and he was consequently forced to enter into a career wholly
different to his own wishes, or to the views of his patron.
Duke Frederick, who was governor of Montbéliard, under
his brother, Duke Charles, retired to Germany, and in him
M. Cuvier lost one of his most able protectors ; and every
hope of better times failing, he determined to undertake
the office of tutor, an idea in some measure familiar to him,
as Montbéliard had long supplied instructors to the young
nobles of Russia. ‘To Russia, however, he had no wish to
proceed, for his lungs, always delicate, were rendered still
weaker by close application to his studies, and he sought an
appointment in a more genial climate. Such a step was
deemed by his companions, considering his already acquired
honours, his extraordinary talents, and great attainments,
desperate ; but he was again to prove, that that which at
first appears a severe misfortune often becomes a stepping- —
stone to future fame and success ; for, in a manner com-
pelled to accept that which in every way appeared unwor-
thy of him, M. Cuvier, by so doing, laid the foundation for
the cosmopolitan honours which attended his after years.
We are now to behold him, then, arriving at Caén in Nor- ¢
mandy, in July, 1788, and stationing himself in a Protes- —
tant family for the education of the only son, and although
not quite nineteen years of age, in possession of that varie-
ty and depth of knowledge w hich was so soon to ripen into
the great savant; “ bringing with him from Germany that
love of labour, that depth of reflection, that perseverance,
that uprightness of character, from which he never sw erved,
To these admirable foundations for glory, he afterwards
added that remarkable clearness of system, that perfection
of method, that tact of giving only what is necessary, in
short, that elegant manner of summing up the whole,
which particularly distinguishes the French writers: the
whole superstructure was completed by the most perfect
modesty, and that respect for his own esteem, without which

, BARON CUVIER. 13

talents become the medium of traffic for the acquirement of
sordid possessions.”*

Whilst with the family of the Count d’Hericy, M. Cuvier
saw all the nobility of the surrounding country ; he acquired
the forms and manners of the best society, and became ac-
quainted with some of the most remarkable men of his
time. Nor was his favourite study followed with less ardour
in consequence of finding himself surrounded by new friends
and new duties. A long sojourn on the borders of the sea
first induced him to study marine animals, but, without
books, and in complete retirement, he confined himself to
the objects more immediately within his reach. It was at
this period also, (June, 1791, to 1794,) that some Terebra-
tule having been dug up near F’écamp, the thought struck
him of comparing fossil with recent species ;f and the cas-

1 dissection of a Calmar? led him to study the anatomy
of Mollusca, which afterwards conducted him to the deve-
lopement of his great views on the whole of the animal
kingdom. It was thus, from an obscure corner of Norman-
dy, that that voice was first heard, which, in a comparatively
short space of time, filled the whole of the civilized world
with admiration,—which was to lay before mankind so ma-
ny of the hidden wonders of creation,—which was to dis-
cover to us the relics of former ages, to change the entire
face of natural history, to regulate and amass the treasures
already acquired, and those made known during his life ;
and then to leave science on the threshold of a new epocha.
The class called Vermes by Linneeus, included all the infe-
rior animals, and was left by him in a state of the greatest
confusion. it was by these, the lowest beings in creation,
that the young naturalist first distinguished himself: he ex-.
amined their organization, classed them into different groups,
and arranged them according to their natural affinities.
He committed his observations and thoughts to paper, and,

* The Baron D. H,

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

t A species of Cuttle fish.

14 MEMOIRS OF

unknown to himself at that time, laid the basis of that :
beautiful fabric which he afterwards reise on zoology. He
wrote concerning them, toa friend, “These manuscripts
are solely for my own use, and, doubtless, contain nothing
but what has been done elsewhere, and better established
by the naturalists of the capital, for they have been made
without the aid of books or collections.” Nevertheless, al-
Most every page of these precious manuscripts was full of
new facts and enlightened views, which were superior to
almost all that had yet appeared. A little society met every
evening in the town of Valmont, near the chateau de
Fiquainville, belonging to the Count d’Hericy, for the pur-
pose of discussing agricultural topics. M. 'T'essier was often
present at these meetings, who had fled from the reign of
terror in Paris, and who was concealed under the title and
office of surgeon to a regiment, then quartered at Valmont.
He spoke so well, and seemed so entirely master of the sub-
ject that the young secretary of the society, M. Cuvier, re-
cognised him as the author of the articles on agr iculture in
the Encyclopédie Méthodique.

On saluting him as such, M. Tessier, whose title of f
Abbé had rendered him suspected at Paris, exclaimed, “I
am known, then, and consequently lost.”——“ Lost!” replied f
M. Cuvier; “no; you are henceforth the object of our. —
most anxious care.” ‘This circumstance led to an intima-
cy between the two; and by means of M. Tessier,* M. _
Cuvier entered into correspondence with several savans, to
whom he sent his observations, especially Laméthrie,
Olivier, De la Cépéde, Geoffroy St. Hilaire, and Millin de
Grand Maison. ‘Through their influence, and from the
memoirs published in several learned journals, he was
called to Paris, where endeavours were making to re-esta-
blish the literary institutions, overthrown by the Revolu-
tion, and where it was reasonable to suppose that he would
find the means of placing himself. In the spring of 1795,
he cbheyed the invitation of his Parisian friends, and, by

* “Je viens de trouver une perle dans le fumier de Normandie,”—“ I
have just found a pearl in the dunghill of Normandy,”—wrote M. Tes-
sier to his friend, M. Parmentier; thus detecting the great naturalist in

M. Cuvier’s carliest productions, and appreciating what were then but
the germs of his talent.

BARON CUVIER. 15

the influence of M. Millin, was appointed membre de la
Commission des Arts, and, a short time after, professor at
he central school of the Panthéon. For this school he
composed his “'Tableau élémentaire de l Histoire natu-
relle des Animaux ;” which work contained the first me-
thodical writing on the class Vermes that had been given
to the world. His great desire, however, was to be attach-
ed to the Museum of Natural History, the collections in
which could alone enable him to realise his scientific
views. A short time after his arrival in the capital, M.
Mertrud was appointed to the newly-created chair of com-
parative anatomy at the Jardin des Plantes, and finding
himself too far advanced in years to follow a_ study
which had hitherto been foreign to his pursuits, con-
sented, at the request of his colleagues, particularly MM.
de Jussieu, Geoflroy, and De la Cépéde, to associate M.
Cuvier with him in his duties. "This association was ex-
actly what M. Cuvier was desirous of obtaining; and no
sooner was he settled in the Jardin des Plantes, as the
assistant of M. Mertrud, July, 1795, than he sent for his
father, then nearly eighty years of age, and his brother, M.
Frederic Cuvier; his mother he had unfortunately lost in
1793. From the moment of his installation in this new
ofiice, M. Cuvier commenced that magnificent collection
of comparative anatomy which is now so generally celebrat-
ed. In the lumber-room of the museum were four or five
old skeletons, collected by M. Daubenton, and piled up
there by M. de Buffon. ‘Taking these, as it were, for the
foundation, he unceasingly pursued his object ; and, aided
by some professors, opposed by others, he soon ‘gave it
such a degree of importance that no further obstacle could
be raised against its progress. No other pursuit, no re-
laxation, no absence, no legislative duties, no sorrow, no
illness, ever turned him from this great purpose, and creat-
ed by him, it now remains one of the noblest monuments
to his memory.”

The National Institute was created in 1796; and M.

* It was of this collection that he said, when asked if he should ever
consider himself rich in it, ‘‘ Quelque riche qu’on en soit, on en désire tou-
jours.” (However rich we may be, we always wish for more.)

16 MEMOIRS OF

Cuvier, although only known by his scientific papers, and
his intimacy with learned men, especially De la Cépéd
and Daubenton, was made one of its first members, and
was the third secretary, appointed at a time when these
secretaries quitted their office every two years.

In the spring of 1798, M. Berthollet having been
charged by Buonaparte to seek for savans to accompany
the expedition to Egypt, proposed to M. Cuvier to form
one of the number. This, however, he refused, from the
conviction, that he could better serve the interests of sci-
ence by remaining amid the daily improving collections of
the Jardin, where his labours could be systematic, than by
making even a successful travel. He always felt happy
afterwards in having thus decided ; the propriety of which
resolution no one can attempt to dispute.

About this time, one of M. Cuvier’s pupils, M. Dumeril,
who had zealously followed all his lectures, asked permis-
sion to publish the notes he had taken in the lecture-room.
These, in M. Cuvier’s opinion, would have formed a very
imperfect work, and he preferred going over the whole
again, devoting himself to the general and philoscphical
notices, and those parts which treated of the brain and the
organs of the senses. M. Dumeril chiefly undertook the
details of myology and nevrology. The two first volumes
of the “ Lecons d’Anatomie comparée” appeared in 1800,
and met with the greatest success, notwithstanding a few
errors, Which were afterwards corrected and acknowledged
by M. Cuvier, who in common with all those who prefer
the interests of science to their own momentary fame, and
with the candour which always marks real learning, never
hesitated either to avow or te rectify a fault, a perfection
which mingled with his private as well as public actions.
‘The materials for these lectures were supplied by a collec-
tion, then in its infancy, and which was increased an
hundred-fold by himself; and those who have criticised
these early volumes, have been obliged to confess, that the
means of doing so were given to them by the author him-
self, who threw every thing open to them, even were it to
convict him of those unavoidable mistakes to which he
had been liable, from the then imperfect state of the col-
lection. ‘The three last volumes of this work were much

BARON CUVIER. 17

more complete and methodical than the first two, and
vere edited under the inspection of Dr. Duvernoy (another
of M. Cuvier’s pupils) in the year 1805, though the second,
notwithstanding its inaccuracies, was alwa ays considered by
M. Cuvier as the most interesting of the whole.

But to return to the year 1800, when the celebrated col-
league of M. de Buffon died, at a very advanced age, M.
Cuvier was named professor in his place, at the Collége
de France, where he taught natural philosophy, at the
same time that he lectured on comparative anatomy at the
Jardin.* On succeeding to this chair he resigned that of
the central school of the Panthéon. Also in 1800,
Buonaparte, who, as First Consul, aspired to civil as well
as military glory, caused himself to be appointed president
of the Institute, and, in consequence, held direct commu-
nication with M. Cuvier. In 1802, he appointed him one
of the six inspectors-general ordered to establish Lycéest in
thirty towns of France. In this capacity M. Cuvier found-
ed those of Marseilles, Nice, and Bordeaux, which are now

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

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

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

{ Lycées are public schools, under the management and direction of
the government. The pupils who fr equent them ] pay a small sum, which
sum is appropriated to the use of the school. The professors receive
their salaries from the government, which reserves to itself a right to no-
minate a certain number of pupils entirely gratis. The private schools
are always established near one of these Lycées, as the pupils are oblig-
ed to attend there for a certain number of hours every day.

B*

1s MEMOIRS OF

called royal colleges; and while thus employed at Mar-
seilles, he profited by the opportunity so aflorded him o
continuing his studies on marine animals. During hi
absence from Paris, the Institute underwent a change of
form, and its secretaryships were made perpetual.* M.
Cuvier was elected to that of natural sciences, which
he held with honour to the day of his death. On this ap-
pointment he quitted his labours of inspector general of
education.

A fall having occasioned the death of M. Cuvier’s father,
shortly after his arrival in Paris, and his brother’s wife
having died the first year of her marriage, in giving birth
to a sont, the two brothers remained alone; and it was in
this comparatively condition that M. Cuvier thought of
seeking a companion. In 1803, he married the widow of
M. Duvaucel, Fermier General, who had perished on the
scaffold inthe year 1794. ‘This was no match of interest ;
for Madame Duvaucel had been wholly deprived of fortune
by the Revolution, and brought four children? to M. Cu-
vier. whom she had borne to M. Duvaucel. But well had
M. Cuvier judged of the best means of securing domestic
enjoyment ; for this lady, who is a rare combination of

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

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

t Two of these children are dead, one of them having been assassinated
in Portugal during the retreat of the French in 1809. The other fell a vic-
tim to his scientific zeal in a pernicious climate ; and after having display-
ed great talent and courage, while travelling in India and the neighbour-
ing islands for four years, in order to make collections for the museum in
Paris, expired at Madras, at an early age, lamented by all as a youth of
great promise, and the most endearing qualities. One of the survivors
holds a high place in the customs of Bordeaux; and the other, who has
been loved and cherished by M. Cuvier as his own daughter, has had the
happiness of devoting herself to him in his last moments, and now forms
the sole consolation of her afflicted mother.

BARON CUVIER. 19

mind, manner, and disposition, threw a bright halo of hap-
piness round him, which was his support in suffering, his
refuge in trouble, and a powerful auxiliary, when his, heavy
and important duties allowed him to steal an hour of ration-
al and unrestrained conversation. By this marriage he had
four children, the first of whom, a son, died a few weeks
after his birth, and who were all successively taken from
him.

In 1808, in his character of Perpetual Secretary, M.
Cuvier wrote a Report on the Progress of Natural Sciences,
from the year 1789. A mere report was demanded ; but
under this title the learned author produced one of the most
luminous treatises that had ever appeared, “ serving as a
beacon to the path which had already been traversed, and
to that which was yet to be pursued.”* ‘The report was
formerly presented to the Emperor in the council of state.
In this same year, when Napoleon created the Imperial
University, M. Cuvier was made one of the counsellors for
life to this body, which brought him constantly into the
immediate presence of the Emperor.

in 1809 and 1810, in his office of Counsellor to the
University, M. Cuvier was charged with the organization of
the academies of those Italian states which were, for a time
annexed tothe empire. ‘The regulations made by him at
Turin, Genoa, and Pisa, were afterwards continued by the
sovereigns of these countries on their return to their domi-
nions.

In 1811, appeared one of the most important of all M.
Cuvier’s scientific labours,-—his work on Fossii Remains ;
which opened new sources of wonder in the history of crea-
tion, and made an entire revolution in the study of geology.
Also, in 1S11, he was ordered to form academies in Holland
and the Hanseatic towns, where several of his arrange-
ments are still existing. His Reports from Holland are
particularly worthy of admiration ; for in them he exposed
the true causes of the inferiority of that country in classical
attainment, and showed, that the disgust often felt by the
pupils, arose from their not having enough given to their
minds to feed upon. ‘The schools for the people attracted

* Baron Pasquier.

20 MEMOIRS OF Wa

his attention in all countries, and were to him an unceas-
ing theme of meditation.

While at Hamburgh, M. Cuvier received the unsolicited
title of Chevalier from the Emperor, which rank was assur-
ed to his heirs. However, the hope of transmitting his
worldly honours to his posterity was soon to be destroyed ;
for, after being deprived of adaughter, four years old, in 1812,
he was, in 1813, bereaved of his son, who was seven years
ofage. ‘This last loss made a deep impression on him,
which was never entirely effaced; and even after the lapse
of years he never saw a boy of that age without conside-
rable emotion, a feeling which he did not strive to hide
from his own family, or those with whom he was intimate ;
and often, when walking with his daughters, he would
stop before a group of boys, who, as they played, reminded
him of his child.” ‘This misfortune happened while M.
Cuvier was fulfilling a mission at Rome, for the purpose of
organizing the university there. It was remarkable enough,
that a Protestant should hold this office in the metropolis
of the Papal dominions, but the moderation and benignity
of M. Cuvier knew how to soften inconsistencies; his tole-
rance for all sincere doctrines of religion proceeded from
conscientious motives, and therefore he was not likely to
revolt the creed of those among whom he mingled. While
thus employed at Rome, Napoleon, from his own personal
feeling, appointed him Maitre des Requétes in the Council
of State, of which honour he was first informed by the
Moniteur. ‘The contact into which he was constantly
brought with the Emperor, in his office of Counsellor to the
University, the intimate knowledge which his sovereign had
thus acquired of his administrative talents, united to the
favourable representations of the Grand Master, Fontanes,
were supposed to be the causes of this marked distinction.
Towards the end of this year (1813) he was further em-
ployed by Napoleon, in a manner that showed the estimate
he had made of his character. He appointed him Com-

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

BARON CUVIER. 21

missaire Impérial extraordinaire, and sent him on the diffi-
cult mission of endeavouring to raise the people inhabiting
the left bank of the Rhine in favour of F'rance, (their new
country) against the invading troops then marching against
her. M. Cuvier was ordered to Mayence ; but he was stop-
ped at Nancy, by the entrance of the allied armies, and
obliged to return.

The events of 1814 happened at the moment when the
Emperor had bestowed on him a still more honourable
mark of his favour, by making him Counsellor of State.
A delay of only a few month, however, took place in his
final establishment in the council; for Louis X VIII, who
was very sensible to intellectual merit, again conferred this
dignity on him, and, in the September of the same year,
first employed him in the temporary office of Commissaire
du Roi. ‘These favours, were in some measure, to be at-
tributed to an introduction to the Abbé de Montesquion, then
minister, by means of MM. Royer Collard, Becquey, de
Talleyrand, and Louis, who were well acquainted with the
Abbé, and who, by their presentation, gave him an oppor-
tunity of profiting by the merits of M. Cuvier.

The return of Napoleon for a while banished the new
counsellor from his dignity, but he was retained by the
Emperor in the Imperial University. After the hurricane
of the Hundred Days it became necessary to remodel both
the Roya! and Imperial Universities, and a provisional su-
perintendence was deemed necessary. A committee of pub-
lic instruction was created to exercise the powers formerly
belonging to the grand master, the council, the chancellor,
and the treasurer of the University. M. Cuvier made a
part of this committee, and was at once appointed to the
chancellorship, which office he retained till his death, under
the most difficult circumstances, in the midst of the most
opposite prejudices, and notwithstanding the most invete-
rate resistance offered to him as a Protestant. The jesuiti-
cal tendency of those in power augmented the difficulties
that a wise and disinterested man must at all times meet
with, in trying to do good, and to prevent evil; but when
that man was of a different religion, it may easily be ima-
gined in how delicate a situation he must have been often
placed, and how greatly his religious faith must have in-

22 MEMOIRS OF

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

During the first years of the restoration of the Bourbons,
M. Cuvier was twice offered the directorship for life of the
Museum of Natural History, but he persisted in refusing it,
from the conviction that it was much more favourable to
the advancement of science, that this establishment should
continue under that form of administration, which necessi-
tated the election of a yearly director, chosen by the profes-
sors and appointed according to their vote. A second edi-
tion of the Fossil Remains was published in 1817, the pre-
liminary discourse of which underwent several more edi-
tions. The Régne Animal was also brought out in this
year, which classed every branch of zoology according to
its organization. In 1818, M. Cuvier made a journey to
England with his family and his secretary, the excellent
M. Laurillard, and where he remained about six weeks, vi-
siting every thing worthy of notice in London. His re-
mark to his Majesty George IV. concerning our natural his-
tory was, that if the private collections could be amassed
into one, they would form a great national museum, which
would surpass every other. At this period the election for
Westminster was going forward, and he frequently dwelt
on the amusement he had received from being on the hust-
ings every day. "hese orgies of liberty were then unknown
in France, and it was a curious spectacle for a man who
reflected so deeply on every thing which passed before him,

BARON CUVIER. 23

‘ i
3

~ to see and hear our orators crying out at the tops of their

voices to the mob, who pelted them with mud, cabbages,
eggs, &c.; and Sir Murray Maxwell, in his splendid uni-
form, and decorated with orders, flattermmg the crowd, who
reviled him, and sent at his head all the varieties of the
vegetable kingdom. Nothing ever effaced this impression
from M. Cuvier’s memory, who frequently described the
scene with great animation.
M. Cuvier had two objects in visiting England, one of
which was, to observe, on the spot, the influence of our
constitutional government, which was only known to him
in theory. He conversed with several of our political cha-
racters, he saw every thing which marked the application
of our system upon mankind, and took back with him to
France clear and precise ideas, by which he well knew how
to profit in his future labours. It was frequently a matter
of great astonishment to my countrymen to find him so
well acquainted with our institutions, even to the details
of their expenses, the period of their formation, and the
changes they had undergone. The other, and thegreat ob-
ject of M.Cuvier’s excursion, was ofa scientific nature; and
itis with pleasure I add that he always spoke of his reception
here with gratitude. The facilities afforted him both by
our savants and our statesmen, the confidential communi-
cations he received, and the manner in which all was laid
open to him, were frequently a source of happy recollection,
which was as often expressed. Some days of the period of
his sojourn in England were passed in Oxford, whither he
was accompanied by his valued friend, Dr. Leach of the
British Museum, who was his incessant chaperon in this
country ; he returned from them perfectly enchanted with
the city and its great objects of interest, and with the dis-
tinction which attended his reception there. His wife and
daughters met him at Windsor, and, after passing the day
in visiting the castle, park, &c., they proceeded, late in the
evening, to the house of Sir William Herschel, who received
them with the utmost kindness, and showed them his great
telescope, though the night was too dark to profit much by
this famous instrument. Another visit paid by M. Cuvier
was often alluded to by him with pleasure ; it was to Sir
Joseph Banks’s house at Spring Grove: he had often been

24 MEMOIRS OF

to see him in Soho Square, but the entertainment given to

the whole party to Spring Grove, resembled a féte cham- i

étre. The only thing to which M. Cuvier could not recon-
cile himself in England was, the formality and length of
our great dinners, the long sittings after which were always
mentioned by him with an expression of ennui, even in his
countenance. At one of these sittings, at Sir Everard
Home’s, the conversation turned upon some political ques-
tion. In the course of the discussion M. Cuvier said,— “But
it would be very easy to clear up this point, if Sir Everard
would send to his library for the first volume of Blackstone’s
Commentaries.” Upon this Sir Everard, with great em-
phasis, exclaimed, “Inow, Monsieur, that I have not such
a book in my library, which, thank God, only contams
works of science.” 'T'o this M. Cuvier quietly replied, “The
one does not prevent the other ;” but never could recollect
this, to him extraordinary boast, withouta mixture of amuse-
ment and astonishment. While in Eingland, M. Cuvier
was appointed to the Académie Francaise, chiefly in conse-
quence of the brilliant Gloges he had read in the Académie
of Sciences on its deceased members. His discourse upon
his reception is a beautiful instance of his classical style of
writing. ‘Towards the end of 1818, he was offered the Mi-
nistry of the Interior, but the political conditions attached to
it being such as he could not conscientiously accept, he de-
clined the honcur.

In 1819, M. Cuvier was appointed President of the Co-
mité de l’Intérieur, belonging to the Council of State, an
office which he held under all changes of ministry; because,
notwithstanding its importance, it is beyond the reach of
political intrigue, and only demands order, unremitting ac-
tivity, strict impartiality, and an exact knowledge of the
laws and principles of administration. In this same year,
Louis XVIII, as a mark of a personal esteem created him
a Baron, * and repeatedly summoned him to assist in the
cabinet councils.

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

Ay oe

A a

4 a*
»

y Twice had M. Cuvier held the office of Grand Master of

the University, when the place could not conveniently be
filled up, but he never received the emoluments of it; and,
in 182%, when a Catholic bishop was raised to this dignity,
he accepted the Grand Mastership of the Faculties of Pro-
testant Theology ; on assuming which, he made conditions,
that he should not receive any pecuniary reward. ‘This
appointment associated him with the ministry, and gave
him the superintendence, not only of the religious, but the
civil and political rights of his own creed, and ceased only
with bis life, although the Grand Masters were afterwards
laymen.

In 1824, M. Cuvier officiated, as one of the Presidents of
the Council of State, at the coronation of Charles X.; and,
in 1826, received from that monarch thedecoration of Grand
Officer de la Légion d’Honneur. On the Saturday he
knew nothing of this compliment, and on Sunday it arrived,
without, however, disturbing him from the delighted sur-
vey he was taking, with his daughter-in-law, of some alte-
rations just made in his house. At this time also, his for-
mer sovereign, the King of Wiirtemburg, appointed him
Commander of his Order of the Crown.

In 1827, to M. Cuvier’s Protestant Grand Mastership
_ was added the management of all the affairs belonging to
- the different religions in France, except the Catholic, in the
Cabinet of the Interior, for which increase of his duties he
also refused to accept any emolument. But this year was
marked with the heaviest calamity the Baron Cuvier had
yet sustained, the loss of his only remaining child ; a pious,
talented, beautiful young woman of twenty-two, on the
eveof marriage, and whose bridal chaplet mingled with the
funeral wreath on her bier. Lovely in every action, lovely
in person and manner, and rich in her attainments, no
question ever arose as to who did or did not admire Cle-
mentine Cuvier ; she unconsciously commanded universa!
homage, and secured its continuance by her lowliness of
heart and her unfailing charity. 'The daughter was worthy
of the father: it may be imagined, then, how that father
loved her, and how heavy was the visitation. But M. Cu-
vier, with that high sense of duty which had always dis-
tinguished him, felt that he lived for others, and that he had
C

BARON CUVIER. 2

é,

6

26 MEMOIRS OF

no right to sink under the heavy load of grief imposed on
him. With the energy that might be expected from such —
a character, he sought relief in his duties; and although
many a new furrow appeared on his cheek ; although his
beautiful hair rapidly changed to silvery whiteness ; though
the attentive observer might catch the suppressed sigh, and
the melancholy expression of the uplifted eye, no one of
his important offices remained neglected ; his scientific de-
votion even increased ; his numerous protégés received the
same fostering care, and he welcomed strangers to his house
with his wonted urbanity. It has been related by an eye-
witness, that, at the first sitting of the Comité de ’Intérieur,
at which M. Cuvier presided after this event, and froma
which he had absented himself two months, he resumed the
chair with a firm and placid expression of countenance ;
he listened attentively to all the discussions of those pre-
sent ; but when it became his turn to speak, and sum up
all that had passed, his firmness abandoned him, and his
first words were interrupted by tears ; the great legislator
gave way tothe bereaved father, he bowed his head, covered
his face with his hands, and was heard to sob bitterly. A
respectful and profound silence reigned through the whole
assembly ; all present had known Clementine, and there-
fore all could understand and excuse this deep emotion.
At length M. Cuvier raised his head, and uttered these few
simple words :—‘“ Pardon me, gentlemen ; I was a father,
and I have lost all;” then, with a violent effort, he resumed
the business of the day with his usual perspicuity, and pro-
nounced judgment with his ordinary calmness and justice.

In the following year (1828) appeared the first of a series
of twenty volumes on Ichthyology, a magnificent work,
accompanied by the most exquisite plates. In 1829, a se-
cond edition of the Régne Animal was published; and it
is scarcely possible to imagine any thing finer than the force
of that mind, which could thus seek for solace under the
deepest affliction. These works were in progress long be-
fore the death of Mademoiselle Cuvier, and, we may safely
suppose, were not much retarded by that grievous event.
What was the state of the father’s mind during the time of
her illness, may be gathered from a letter, published. in the
second part of this volume.

t

a
:

4

—_—

BARON CUVIER. 27

The year 1830 saw the Baron Cuvier again in the lec-

turing chair at the Collége de France, where he opened a

course on the History and Progress of Science in all Ages,
and which was continued till the close of his earthly labours.
In the same year he paid a second visit to England, and
happened to be in London when the last revolution in
France took place. Te had long contemplated this visit,
being desirous of personally inspecting some of the scien-
tific treasures of this country ; but a long delay (even after
his congé was obtained) took place, owing to the death of
the learned Baron Fourrier, the other secretary to the Aca-
démie des Sciences, whose duties fell on M. Cuvier till a
successor could be appointed. On the putlication of the
famous ordonnances of Charles X. and his ministers, a
universal silence in public was observed, as if the first per-
son who ventured to talk about them, was to set fire toa
train of gunpowder. Even M. Cuvier, though so clear-
sighted on other occasions, was completely taken by surprise
in this instance, and partook of the general opinion, that
“this stroke of policy on the part of the state would lead
to a lengthened resistance of taxes, and to partial distur-
bances, but not to any violent crisis ;’ and deceived, as so
many others were, by the profound tranquillity which reign-
ed in every part of the capital, he started for Kngland on
the appointed day. Five hours afier his carriage had pass-
ed the barrier, the firing commenced in Paris, and he and
his daughter-in-law quietly pursued their route by easy sta-
ges. ‘They were overtaken on the road near Boulogne by
the flying English, who gave them vague reports, and they
pressed on to meet their letters at Calais. There, after two
days of the deepest anxiety, during which time they formed
twenty projects for immediate return, and were as often re-
tained by the certainty of not being able to re-enter Paris,
or even proceed on the road back, with passports dated in
the month of May, and leave of absence signed by the
hand of Charles X., they at once received the details of the
Revolution, and of the restoration to peace. ‘The power of
asking leave of absence, under such an accumulation of
duties as M. Cuvier’s, was so rare, his time was so precious
to himself, and the assurances of perfect tranquillity in Paris,
combined with the safety of those whom they loved, were

28 MEMOIRS OF

so decided, that he and Mademoiselle Duvaucel determined
on proceeding to England. Instead, however, of making
a stay of six weeks, as they had at first intended, they re-
turned in a fortnight ; and to the happiness of those around
him, M. Cuvier found himself, even under the government
of the citizen king, in possession of all his honours, his
dignities, and his important functions.

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

P Ach Titty

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

Notwithstanding the great endeavours made in the ear-
lier part of the seventeenth century towards the progress of
natural history, as a science, there yet remained, when M.
Cuvier first entered the learned world, as much to be
done as had been effected since the revival of letters. The
perfect form in which plants can be preserved with compa-
ratively little trouble, the small expense at which they can
be procured, and the narrow compass in which collections
can be contained, gave them great advantages over other
branches of natural history. Accordingly, we find that
Botany had most profited by the exertions of several illus-
trious naturalists; it had even assumed that grouping,
according to general organization and structure, which is
called the natural system; but Zoology, from the ‘greater
difficulties which the study of it presents, was compara-

c*

30 MEMOIRS OF

tively speaking, ina much less advanced state. On look-
ing back to the history of this science from the beginning,
we shall see three great names the possessors of which
caused the most important revolutions, who gave fresh im-
pulse towards its perfection, and who have been the oraeles
of the civilized world. 'To be able to mark the differences
of one being from another is the foundation of this science ;
the great number of these beings necessitates classification,
in order to assist the memory, and facilitate a perfect com-
prehension of their nature and properties, and the part
they perform in creation. ‘'T’o Aristotle belongs the honour
of the first epoch, by having invented the true method,
that alone which can be permanent, as it is founded upon
organization, and is the result of personal observation.
The writers after him, till the northern barbarians for a
time buried all letters in obscurity, contented themselves
with copying what he had done from one work into an-
other, and by no means followed his example of seeing
and judging for themselves. During the middle ages,
now and then an enlightened monk, for a moment, threw
a glimmering light over some branch of animated nature,
and the first revival of learning presents us with many
able efforts in this department of science. At length Lin-
nzeus appeared, and formed the second era. He assembled
all known living beings together, and classed them accord-
ing to the mass which he brought before him, selecting
one or two individual characters as the foundation of his
clear and simple system, and by this, and by his ingeni-
ous binary nomenclature, not only accomplished the great
object of natural history, which is to make us acquainted
with the beings themselves, but by thus collecting them
together, oreatly contributed to our knowledge of their
affinities. It was easy to be seen, however, that in pro-
portion as our knowledge of nature increased, this artificial
classification would scatter so many groups that were in-
tended to remain united among themselves, that it would
be found insufficient for the enlarged scale which the dis-
coveries of every year presented to us. ‘he Systema Na-
ture then of Linnzeus became a mere sketch of what was
to be done afterwards ; even more recent naturalists touch-
ed with a timid hand upon the natural grouping of the

BARON CUVIER. ot

highest branches of the science, and it was reserved for a
mighty genius of our own time to open the path to us, and
te smooth the difficulties of that path, by precisely deter-
mining the limits of the great divisions, by exactly defin-
ing the lesser groups, by placing them all according to the
invariable characters of their internal structure, and by
ridding them of the accumulations of synonymes and ab-
surdities which ignorance, want of method, or fertility of
imagination had heaped upon them.

Gifted with natural powers beyond the common lot of
mortality, guided in earliest youth by a sensible and rightly-
judging parent, and prepared by an excellent German
education, M. Cuvier was still further aided by a circum-
stance which, at first sight, seemed to be an obstacle to his
progress. Almost excluded from the society of first-rate
naturalists, and deprived, by the distracted state of France,
of access to first-rate books, he was driven to nature her-
self; and as she, in her most minute operations, carries
into execution that beautiful order and perfection which
distinguishes her larger productions, so, to talents like
those of M. Cuvier, did the study of the most insignificant
animals open a vast field for future research and investiga-
tion. His mind was peculiarly calculated to embrace the
great whole which a mass of details offers; at the same
time he knew, that by an intimate and accurate know-
ledge of these details alone could he realize the compre-
hensive views, which, even in his first studies, filled his
great mind. He was of opinion, that every branch of
science was to be rendered important if studied properly ;
no one, therefore, set a higher value on minutiae, at the
same time he was never once seen to lose himself in the
intricacies and minor considerations attached to these mi-
nutie. Every research, no matter how humble, how in-
significant it might appear to the eyes of others, was by
him converted to the furtherance of his great objects, the
discovery and just appreciation of the truth.

The anatomical labours of M. Cuvier tended to deter-
mine the physical functions of every animal, of each part
of each animal, and to assign to the animal itself its place
in the series of beings; to prove, that as each of the parts
of an organized being has a function to perform, so does

32 MEMOIRS OF

each being play its part in nature, acting on all that sur-
rounds it, and contributing to form that whole in our
planet, which excites the wonder and admiration of all
inquirers ; a whole which, perhaps, takes its station in
the parts of a still wider expanse, into which we cannot
penetrate. “All is linked together,’ said M. Cuvier,
speaking of creation, “all is dependent, all existence is
chained to other existence, and that chain which connects
them, and of which we can only see some compara-
tively insignificant portions, is infinite in extent, space, and
time.” He believed that all things in this world were
made for some express purpose; he believed that all was
due to one Supreme Intelligence, which had provided or-
gans for fulfilling the ends for which all things were creat-
ed. His method resembled that of Aristotle, Bacon, and
Newton, for it was that of observation and experience, and,
like them, hefelt that no general formula could be founded,
no general principle could be established, without a vast as-
semblage of facts. He not only rejected all theories which
were not thus founded, from a conviction that they led the
rind astray from real observation, but he carefully abstain-
ed from encouraging any system which resulted from the
discovery of only a small number of facts; believing that
systems so based led their followers solely to study those
facts which were favourable to their own peculiar views.
These were the broad principles which M. Cuvier ap-
plied to every branch of human knowledge ; for, like the
Greek philosopher, he was not ignorant of any thing, not
even excepting the mathematical sciences, of which he
understood the foundation and machinery as if.he had
studied them in the character of a professor. That same
intelligence, also, which comprehended the form and or-
ganization of the beings of the present and former world,
had penetrated into the organization of political bodies,
and perfectly appreciated their springs of action, their
strength, and their weaknesses. ‘Thus gifted, thus in-
structed, M. Cuvier unconsciously became a central point,
round which the scientific and learned of every class
sooner or later rallied. He was the kind and equitable ora-
cle of savans of all countries ; for, wholly divested of na-
tional prejudices, and delighting to dwell on that which

BARON CUVIER. 33

was noble in all mankind, he was never, for an instant, ob-
scured by party spirit, and was wholly unconscious of that
supercilious feeling of superiority, which is so hurtful to
the progress of its possessor, and also to the progress of’
others.

The earliest of M. Cuvier’s scientific labours were di-
rected towards Entomology, and in them we behold the
dawning efforts of his genius, the foundation of that mi-
nute and detailed observation which so particularly distin-
guished all his researches, and of which I am about to
give rather a lengthened description, in order to show that
he commenced the task before him ina way that neces-
arily led to the perfection he afterwards attained. He has
been heard to observe that the wonderful things he met
with in the organization of insects raised his genius to ele-
vated thoughts ; and such was his opinion of Entomology
in later life, that he asserted, “If I had not studied insects
from choice when [ was at college, I should have done so
later, from a conviction of its necessity.” An anecdote is
related of him by M. Audouin*, in his Discourse, read at
the Entomological Society of Paris, which proves still fur-
ther the value he set upon such pursuits. A young stu-
dent of medicine came to him one day, and ventured to
tell him, that he had discovered something new and re-
markable in dissecting a human subject. Me Are you an
Entomologist !” asked M. Cuvier.—* No,” replied the stu-
dent.—“ W ell, then,” returned M. Cuvier, “oo and anato-
mize an insect, I care not which, the largest you can find,
then re-consider your observation, and if it appear to be
correct, I will believe you on your word.” ‘he young
man submitted cheerfully to the proof; and soon after,
having acquired more skill and more judgment, went
again to M. Cuvier, to thank him for his advice, and, at
the same time, to confess his error. “ You see,” said M.
Cuvier, smiling, “ that my touchstone was a good one.”

In another part of this work I shall have occasion to
speak of the Entomological drawings of M. Cuvier, but
this is the place to show to what extent he carried these

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

34 MEMOIRS OF

youthful researches. Several fragments and memoirs, from
his pen, exist on this subject ; and among them is a paper,
written in Latin, at the age of twenty-one, while in the
chateau de Fiquanville, describing several Carabi,* and ac-
companied by illustrations, which were executed with the
utmost delicacy and fidelity. Several magnified details
were added to the text, which were prior to many after-
wards given as new by professed Entomologists. In the
same paper were delineations of other Coleoptera, and also
of several Hemiptera, and various insects accompanied by
descriptions. In 1791, M. Cuvier corresponded on the same
subject with MM. Fabricius and Pfaff; and wrote various
papers concerning Pediculi and other parasitical insects.
Some drawings, probably made about this period, were
afterwards given by M. Cuvier to M. Lamarck, consisting
of the most beautiful representations of Crustacea, forming
twenty-three separate pages, and containing, among native
marine Crustacea, several exotic species.

On coming to Paris, one of the first works communicated
to his friends by M. Cuvier was a memoir, on the formation
and use of a method in pursuing the study of natural
history, and which he applied most happily to insects.
This memoir was followed by several more especial labours,
among which may be remarked, the description of a spe-
cies of wasp (Vespa nidulans,) originally from Cayenne.
In this paper he corrected an error made by Reaumur, who
described and figured the Chalcis, a parasitical insect, living
in wasps’ nests, as the female of the Vespa nidulans.
Soon after the appearance of the above, a very interesting
memoir was published on the Cloportes (QGniscus, Lin.) in
which some parts of the mouths of Crustacea were describ-
ed for the first time. This was soon followed by several
others ; one of the most remarkable of which was a critical
dissertation on the species of crabs known to the ancients,
and on the names then given to them. In the month of
September, 1797, M. Cuvier read, before the Institute, a
very curious dissertation on the manner in which insects
are nourished. Having established that the dorsal vessel

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

BARON CUVIER. 35

is not a true heart, and that it does not furnish any means
of circulation, it was necessary to account for the way in
which the nourishing fluid is carried to all the organs. M.
Cuvier proved that this juice passes through the cells of the
intestinal canal, that it spreads over the interior of the body,
and, encircling all parts, is secreted by simple imbibition.
In this memoir he also stated, that the secreting organs of
insects are not solid glands, as in all those animals which
possess a heart and blood-vessels, but that they are compos-
ed of spongy tubes, sometimes folded back upon themselves,
intimately united by trachee, and which may be always
unrolled when time and patience are called in to aid the
task. All these observations were attended with a result
which is always gratifying in natural history ; they estab-
lished insects in a very natural and distinct class, and, like
other well-directed labours, and well-founded remarks,
these discoveries induced others to make the same research-
es, and a new field was opened tothe Entomologist. If
M. Cuvier was at any time doubtful, he did not hesitate
saying so: hecorrected himself when he had been mistak-
en; and even at this period, when he had all his fame to
make, so far from being annoyed at the endeavours of
others, he was the first to encourage them, to give them
his honourable suffrage, and to receive as friends those who
ventured into his province, in order to settle a doubtful point
of science.

The mode of circulation in the Annelides was not better
determined than that of insects, and M. Cuvier also turned
his attention towards them. It was in pursuing this in-
quiry that he told anatomists, that the red colour of. the
liquid contained in leeches does not in the least proceed from
the blood which the animal has imbibed, but that it is their
own blood which circulates in four principal vessels. This
important observation separated leeches, and animals ana-
logous to them, from those with white blood ; and caused
Lamarck to give the class to which they belong the distinct
name of Annelides. In M. Cuvier’s great work on Com-
parative Anatomy, all the peculiarities belonging to insects,
and other articulated animals, were afterwards given ; and
as he carried his labours into a wider expanse, he left their

36 MEMOIRS OF

external forms and’ classification to others, and confined
himself solely to their internal structure.

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

whole, previous to its publication.

' The first lecture is a sort of preliminary discourse, and
bears the general name of Animal Economy. _ It is, how-
ever, divided into five heads, viz. Organic Functions, Struc-
ture of the Organs, Differences of Organs, Affinities of
Organs, and Division of Animals. From this first lecture
[ shall make a few extracts, which may enable my readers
io form some judgment of the work.

After examining the nature of the principles of life, the
learned author establishes the general conclusion, “ that no
body exists which has not once formed part of a body simi-
lar to itself, from which it has been detached; or, that all
bodies have shared the life of another body, before they
themselves exercise vital motion; and it is even by the
effect of the vital force, to which they then belonged, that
they have become sufficiently developed to support an
isolated life.” E'rom this conclusion may be deduced the
axiom, “that life springs from life, and no other life exists
than that which has been transmitted from one living body
to another, in uninterrupted succession.” ..... “ Being
unable to go back to the first origin of living bodies, we
have no resource,” says M. Cuvier, “ but to seek informa-
tion concerning the true nature of the forces which animate
them, in an examination of their composition; that is to
say, of their substance, and the combination of elements
which composes this substance or tissue. For although this

4

iw

BARON CUVIER. oF

tissue, and this combination, are in some measure the re-
sults of the action of the vital principles which gave them
being, and continue to preserve them, it is evident that these
principles can only have in them their source and their
foundation. ‘Thus, if the first assemblage of these me-
chanical and chemical elements of a living body has been
effected by the vital principle of the body from which it de-
scends, we cannot but find in it a similar force, and the
causes of this force, in order to exercise a similar action in
favour of the body, which, in its turn descends from it.
But, although our knowledge of the composition of living
bodies is too imperfect to deduce clearly from it the effects
they present to us, we may, at any rate, make use of that
which we do know, in order to recognize these bodies, even
when inactive, and to distinguish their remains after death;
for in no unorganized bodies do we find fibrous or cellular
tissue, or that multiplicity of volatile elements which forms
the characters of organization, whether actually living, or
having lived. Thus while inanimate solids are only com-
posed of polyhedral particles, mutually attracted by the faces
they present: while they only resolve themselves into a
limited number of elementary substances ; while they are
only formed by a combination of these substances, and an
aggregation of these particles; while they only increase by
the juxta-position of new particles, which envelope the first
mass by their layers; and while they are only destroyed by
some mechanical or chemical agency, which alters their
combinations ; on the other hand, organized bodies, com-
posed of a tissue of fibres and plates, the intervals of which
are filled with fluids, resolve themselves almost entirely into
volatile substances, spring from bodies similar to themselves,
from which they are only separated when they can act by
their own strength, assimilate themselves incessantly with
foreign substances, and, introducing these substances be-
tween their particles, increase by internal force, and at
length perish by this internal force, by the effects even of
their vital principle. To originate in generation, to increase
by nutrition, and to end by death, are the general and com-
mon characters of all organized bodies; but if several of
these bodies only exercise these and their necessary func-
tions, and have only the organs requisite for this compara-
D

‘ei

38 MEMOIRS OF

tively limited part in creation, there are many others whicli
exercise peculiar functions, which not only require organs
particularly adapted to them, but induce a modification in
the general functions. Of all these peculiar functions,
feeling and moving at will are the most remarkable, and
most influence the other functions. Independent of the
chain which links these two faculties, and the double set of
organs which they require, they yet carry with them seve-
ral modifications into the functions common to all organized
beings, and these modifications more particularly belong to
and constitute the nature of animals.”

As one example, among many others which the limits of
this volume will not allow me to insert, [ shall cite M. Cu-
vier’s general description of digestion. “ Vegetables, which
are aitached to the ground, absorb the nutritive parts of the
fluids which they imbibe by means of their roots. ‘These
roots divided to infinity, penetrate into the smallest spaces,
and, as it were, seek at a distance for nourishment to the
plant to which they belong; their action is tranquil and
continuous, and is only interrupted by a drying-up of the
juices in the soil which are necessary to them. Animals,
on the contrary, not being fixed, and constantly changing

place, must carry with them the provision of juices essential

for their nutrition ; therefore they have received a cavity in
which their alimentary substances are placed, into the cells
of which open the pores, or absorbing vessels, and which,
according to the forcible expression of Boerhaave, are true
iternal roots. ‘The size of this cavity, and its orifices, per-

mit several animals to introduce solid substances into it ;

these require mechanism to divide them—liquids to dissolve
them ; and nutrition no longer commences by the imme-
diate absorption of substances as they are supplied by the
ground and the atmosphere ; it must be preceded by a mul-
titude of preparatory operations, the whole of which consti-
tute digestion.”

From the second division of this first lecture, which treats
of the organs of which animals are composed, I shall select
the passage concerning the senses, as most interesting to the
general reader. After exposing the nervous system in its
different bearings; after noticing the cellular tissue, the
medullary substance, the muscles, the bones, the joints, the

Sa

Ay

BARON CUVIER. 39

elhemical analysis of various part of the body, &c., M. Cu-
vier proceeds :—“ We perceive the action of external bodies
on our own, in proportion as the nerve which is affected by
them communicates with the spinal chord, or common bun-
dle of nerves, and this with the brain; a ligature, or a rup-
ture, by intercepting the physical communication, destroys
the feeling. ‘The only sense which belongs to all ani-
mals, and which exercises its influence over nearly the
whole of the surface of the body of each, is the touch. It
resides in the extremities of the nerves which are distributed
through the skin, and makes known to us the resistance
of bodies and their temperature. 'The other senses seem to
be but more elevated modifications of the touch, and are
susceptible of more delicate impressions. Every one knows
that they are the sight, which resides in the eye ; the hear-
ing, which resides in the ear; the smell, which resides in
the membranes inside the nose; and the taste, the seat of
which is in the tezuments of the tongue. These are all
situated at the same extremity of the body which contains
the brain, and which we call the head, or chief. Light,
vibrations of the air, volatile emanations floating in the at-
mosphere, and saline particles soluble in water, or the saliva,
are the substances which act on these four senses, and the
organs which transmit their action to the nerves are espe-
cially adapted to each. , The eye presents transparent lenses
to the light, which break its rays; the ear offers membranes
and fluids to the air, which receive its agitations; the nose
draws up the air which goes to the lungs, and in its passage
attracts the odorous vapours contained in it; and, lastly,
the tongue is furnished with spongy papille, which imbibe
the savoury liquids offered to it. It is by these means that
we are conscious of the things and circumstances which
pass around us, and of the vast number of those which pass
within us; and, independent of the internal pains which
warn us of some disorder in our organization, and the
sufferings occasioned by hunger, thirst, and fatigue, it is by
means of these senses that we feel the emotions of pity, the
agonies of fear, &c. "These latter sensations are rather the
effect of a re-action on the nervous system than immediate
impressions; and as the sight of some imminent danger
makes us fly without the will having had time to act, it is
also involuntarily that we feel transport at the sight of a

40 | . MEMOIRS OF

beloved object, or shed tears at the sight of virtue in distress,
‘These effects of the nervous system arise from the numer-
ous communications of particular nerves, called sympathet-
ic, existing between divers ramifications of the general
trunk; and by means of which impressions are more rapidly
transmitted than by means of the brain. These knots of
nerves, which, when enlarged, bear the name of ganglions,
are a species of secondary brains, and are always of greater
size, and in a greater number, as the proportion of the prin-
cipal brain is less considerable.” +

When, in the third division, M. Cuvier treats of the differen-
ces of the organs of animals, he observes, that the circulation
of the blood furnishes the most important variations. “First,
there are animals which have no blood, such as insects and
zoophytes ; and, secondly, those which have it possess it in
a double or simple mode. That is called double circulation
when no part of the venous blood can re-enter the arterial
trunk until it has made a certain circuit in the organ of
respiration, which must be formed by the expansion of two
vessels, the one arterial and the other venous, nearly of
equal size, but shorter than the two principal vessels of the
body. Such is the circulation of man, mammalia, birds,
fishes, and many mollusca. In simple circulation, a great
part of the venous blood re-enters the arteries without
passing through the lungs, because this organ receives but
ohe expansion from one branch of the arterial trunk.
Such is the circulation of reptiles. There are yet other
differences in the existence and position of hearts, or muscu-
lar organs destined to impel the blood. In simple circula-
tion there is never more than one ; but when the circulation
is double, one part is sometimes seated at the base of the
principal artery, and the other at that of the pulmonary
artery ; and sometimes there is only one of these two parts.
In the first case, the two hearts, or, rather the two ventri-
cles, may be united in one single mass, as in man, mamma-
lia, and birds ; or they may be separated, as in the cuttle-
fish. When there is only one ventricle, it is either placed
at the base of the artery of the body, as in snails and other
mollusca, or at the base of the pulmonary artery, as in
fishes.

“The organs of respiration are equally fertile in remark-
able differences. When the element which is to act on the

\

BARON CUVIER. A

blood is the atmospheric air, it penetrates even into the in-
terior of the respiratory organ; but when it is water, it
simply glides over a surface, more or less multiplied. These
surfaces, or leaflets, are called branchie, and are found in
fishes, and many of the mollusca. Instead of leaflets, there
are sometimes tufts, or fringes. Air penetrates into the
body by one or several orifices. In the first instance, which
is that of all animals with lungs, properly so called, the chan-
nel which receives the air is subdivided into a multitude of
branches, which terminate in as many little cells, generally
collected into two masses, which the animal has the power
of compressing or dilating. When there are several open-
ings, which we see only in insects, the vessels which receivethe
air are ramified to infinity, in order to carry it to every part of
the body without exception, and this is what is called respi-
ration by means of trachee. Lastly, the zoophytes, with the
exception of echinodermes, have no apparent organ of respi-
ration.”

In the third portion of this opening lecture, the affinities
of organs are described, and their manner of acting on each
other. “Of what use,” says M. Cuvier, “ would sensation
be to us, if muscular force did not help it, even in
the most trifling circumstances? What use could we make
of touch, if we could not carry our hands towards the
palpable object? and what should we behold if we could
not turn our eyes or head at pleasure? It is on this
mutual dependence between the functions, and on this re-
ciprocal aid, that the laws are founded which determine the
affinities of the organs of animals; which affinities are as
necessary to them, as metaphysical or mathematical laws
are to other parts of the creation. For it is evident, that a
suitable harmony between those organs which act upon
each other, is a necessary condition to the existence of the
being to which they belong ; and that if one of these func-
tions were modified in a manner incompatible with the mo-
difications of others, that being could not exist. Modern
experiments have shown, that one of the principal uses of
respiration is tore-animate muscular force, by restoring to
the muscular fibres their exhausted irritability, and, in fact,
among the animals which breathe the air in a direct man-
ner, we see those with double circulation, and not an atom

Dp

a

AQ MEMOIRS OF

of whose blood can return to the parts till after it has been
respired. Mammalia and birds not only live always in the
air, and move in it with more force than other animals with
red blood, but each of these classes enjoys the faculty of
moving, precisely according to the quantity of its respira-
tion. Birds, for instance, are as much impregnated with
air within as without; not only the cellular parts of their
lungs are very considerable, but these organs have bags, or
appendices, which are prolonged throughout the body.
Thus, in a given time, they consume a much greater
quantity of air in proportion to their size than quadrupeds;
and doubtless it is this which gives to their fibres a prodi-
gious and instantaneous force, and which renders their flesh
fit to act powerfully on those violent movements which sus-
tain them in the air, by the simple vibrations of their wings.”

In the concluding part of this first lecture, treating of the
Division of Animals, M. Cuvier sums up the greatcharacters
of the animal kingdom, proceeding from Mammalia to Zoo-
phytes, or, in other terms, the whole range of animal life, from
man, to the simple pulp whichscarcely merits the name of an
organized being. From this I do not find it possible to cite
any isolated passage, the whole is so beautifully linked to-
gether; but the perusal of this portion alone is calculated
to enlarge our ideas respecting creation, to give us new
thoughts concerning the common occurrences of life, and to

lead us to a train of reflections, which mount upwards to .

the great Source of that life which is presented to us in so.
many extraordinary and elaborate forms. ‘The rest of the

work consists of a description of these forms, external and

internal ; the minutest details concerning the use of each or-
gan are also given to us; the chemical composition of each

part is explained; the greater or lesser developement of this

wonderful machinery and combination is set forth; the total
absence of some parts; the results of these differences, and
the action of the whole in the vast field of nature, all are
laid before us with a clezrness and precision that are truly
admirable. For, although endowed with imagination,
brilliancy of ideas, and eloquence of language, M. Cuvier
has in this, as well as his other scientific labours, affirmed
only, “that which he has seen and touched,” and, far from
wishing to persuade by other means than positive evidence,

Segui

BARON CUVIER. A3.

he presents his readers with nothing that can draw the mind
from the contemplation of reality. From this work we
may deduce certain general rules, certain axioms, which
may apply to every part of animal life, in every corner of
the world. Let us take the single instance of a person
shipwrecked in an unknown sea, and cast up by the waves
on a shore wholly strange to him. 'Towards the means of
life are directed the efforts of returning consciousness: ve-
getables will first offer themselves to his notice, as most
easily procured; but an anatomist will know, that his
teeth andorgans of digestion were given to himthat he
might repair the exhaustion of his frame by animal sub-
stances, and that without these he will not be so healthy
and strong as nature intended he should be. A single bone,
accidentally lying in his path, will tell him, if this compa-
ratively desert country contains animals against which he
must provide means of defence; but what will be his joy,
if this single bone informs him, that ruminating animals
exist there. Milk, flesh, beasts “a burden, skins for bedding
and clothing, at once present themselves to his view.
Furnished with such sources of comfort, he is prepared to
avoid the destructive, to ensnare the swift, and to make use
of the docile ; and weaker in bodily force, perhaps, than
the animals by which he is surrounded in his desolate ha-
bitation, yet, by the superiority of his intelligence, he be-
comes their sovereign.

To say precisely what this ¢reat treatise displays, in an
extent of five thick octavo volumes, each containing from
five to six hundred pages; to give an exact list of every
thing it embraces, would be to offer a dry catalogue of
names, which would not be generally understood ; but in
order to show the manner in which it is conducted through-
out, and how thoroughly it carries the student into every
portion of an or canized body, I submit the way in which
the head is treated. 'The different bones which form the
box called the skull, with their shapes, are first detailed ;
then follow the articulation of the head upon the spine, é and
its consequent movements, the muscles which aid these
movements, and give force and motion to the jaws;
the unequal surfaces of the interior of the skull; the
holes of the skull; the bones of the face; the brain and its

44 MEMOIRS OF

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

To the above work was awarded one of the “prix dé-
cennaux,” instituted by Napoleon in 1810, an account of
which may be acceptable to the English reader. Wishing
at that time to divert the public attention from passing
events (the Spanish campaign, &c.,) the Emperor issued
a decree, stating, that as he was desirous of rewarding and
encouraging every species of study and labour, which could
contribute to the glory of his empire, he had resolved to
bestow prizes of money, every ten years, on the 9th of
November, on the best works in every branch of science,
arts, and literature. 'The prizes were to be proclaimed by
the Minister of the Interior, and the successful candidates
were also to receive a medal from the hands of the Emperor
himself, in presence of the princes, the dignitaries of the
state, the great officers of the University, and the whole
body of the Institute, assembled at the Thuilleries. All la-
bours having sufficient merit were to be examined by a jury
and judges, composed of the presidents and perpetual secre-
taries of the four classes of the Institute. Hach class to
make a catalogue raisonné of the works put to the suffrage ;
those deemed worthy of approaching the prizes, to receive
honourable mention ; but those of sufficient merit, in the
opinion of the judges, to obtain the prize, to be noticed with
still greater detail. All the reports and discussions to be
given to the Minister of the Interior, by whom they were to
be kept entirely secret from the public. No judge to be al-

BARON CUVIER. 45

lowed to pronounce on the merits of his own productions.
These prizes soon became a universal theme; an exhibi-
tion of the pictures painted for them took place in the
Louvre, and every body was more or less interested. The
juries sat, the judges pronounced sentence ; and because the
Comparative Anatomy proceeded from one of the latter,
though it received the praise due to it. the prize for this
subject was awarded to another work. Delay took place,
and the Emperor deemed a revision of the judgment ne-
cessary. During this revision M. Cuvier was in Italy, and
advantage’ was taken of his absence to change the sentence,
and recommend the prize to be bestowed on him. ‘The
greatest freedom was given to discussion, in the idea that
all would be strictly confidential on the part of the govern-
ment; when, to the astonishment of every one, the
whole of the reports given to the Minister of the Interior

as published in the Moniteur. Could any thing be bet-
ee calculated to accomplish the desires of his Imperial Ma-
jesty ? No sooner did the affair languish, and people cease
to talk of it, from the conviction that all was done, than he
set the whole capital in a turmoil of bickering and dispute ;
for every one has his own cause, or that of his protégé to
defend. The result proved it to be one of those master-
strokes of policy of which Napoleon was so capable; and what
vas his intention throughout is very evident, for the prizes
were nevereven mentioned afterwards. Thereports, however,
have been collected, and form a very curious quarto volume.

From the writings on Comparative Anatomy, I naturally
turn to that vast collection of the subjects themselves, form-
ed by M. Cuvier at the Jardin des Plantes ; and w hen I re-
peat, that this collection was not only the principal source
from which he drew the materials for the great work just
mentioned, but was the basis for most others, it is scarcely
necessary for me to enter into many details concerning it:
to its leading features [ shall therefore confine myself. It
is contained in fifteen rooms of various sizes; and in these
fifteen rooms we may verify almost every fact stated by M.
Cuvier, by actual inspection ; and we are lost in admiration,
not only at the vast operations of nature, but at the mind
which appreciated them, and made them known to his fel-
low-men. ‘The collection should be viewed by beginning

A6 MEMOIRS OF

at the room up-stairs, which is farthest from the entrance,
and which communicates with M. Cuvier’s house. In this
are the Mollusca, and at once assuming the character of a
person wholly ignorant of anatomy, I cannot do better than
describe the probable impressions of this person, as he fol-
lows the suit of rooms. His astonishment will be first ex-
cited by finding, that such mis-shapen masses as the com-
mon oyster possess liver, heart, lungs, &c. ; he will wonder
at the various peculiarities presented by the inhabitants of
the shells he has been accustomed to find on the sea-shore,
and to consider as mere toys; he will be surprised at the
number of those insects which exist only on living bodies,
and all disgust will be lost, in contemplating the variety of
their forms. The two next rooms will present to him that
complicated machinery which is contained in beings of a
higher order, by which they re-animate their strength ; by
which, in fact, they live. A step farther, and he will see
the muscles fortified and brought into action by that very
machinery; which he has been examining. But the or-
gans of the senses will have previously arrested his atten-
tion; for he there beholds in the eye the very powers he is
exercising, and which are affording him such infinite grati-
fication. ‘The ear, which gives so much pleasure, and fre-
quently so much pain; the voice,* by which we impart our
own feelings; the reason why the power of uttering those
delicious tones which captivate and soothe us into harmo-
ny, those impassioned sounds which cheat us into an en-
tire forgetfulness of aught but ourselves; those accents of
fury which frightens us to agony, or those grave and calm
communications of the mind, are only given to man; are
all there, and wonder succeeds to wonder, leaving it difficult
for the stranger to decide in which room he finds most in-
terest. "That part of the human frame from which we suf-

* After reading a very interesting Memoir on the organs of the voice in
birds, before the Institute, in 1798; a very celebrated anatomist present
exclaimed, that M. Cuvier had been wrong in stating, that physiologists
had not yet agreed concerning the mechanism of the human voice, which
some compared to a wind, and others to a stringed instrument; for that
this question was now decided in favour of the wind instrument. “You
are deceived,” involuntarily cried another equally learned anatomist; it is
a stringed instrument.” ‘This second observation caused a general smile,
for it proved, most unexpectedly, the truth of M, Cuvier’s assertion,

a

BARON CUVIER. AZT

fer most, the teeth, and dentition, in all its stages, and in all
animals gifted with it, are laid open to his view, with the
important characters they afford for classification, and the
progress made from the concealment of the tooth in its socket
at the birth of the infant, to the filling up of the empty sock-
et into one solid mass, in the aged person. Close tohuman
teeth are the enormous and solitary grinders of the two
living species of elephants, the unchanging ivory of the
tusks of the walrus, the fearful weapons of the lion and the
tiger, and the sharp incisors of the bat. How surprised will
the novice be, to find, that the head, which he has been ac-
customed to consider as one mass of bone, is, in mammalia,
composed of several parts, and in fishes, divided to infinity.
Deeply will he reflect, when, in an adjoining room, he fol-
lows, in the entire skull, the gradations of the frontal bone,
which mark the most intelligent of mankind, to the animal
whose only instinct is that of procuring food; and on de-
scending the staircase, to find himself in the midst of human
skeletons, in their varieties, from the Hottentot Venus to the
graceful being of a Kuropean drawing-room. — For a mo-
ment, his feeling of admiration at the works of God, are
interrupted by a contempt of that external beauty which has
hitherto been so precious in his eyes; but the great room, if
I mistake not, will banish every sentiment but those of awe
and reverence; for he will there find himself walking amid
the remains of the most gigantic of the earth, and the enor-
mous monsters which inhabit the depths of the ocean.
The solid and ponderous members of the elephant, the long
neck of the giraffe, the massive bulk of the whale, and the
hand-like fins of the dolphin, the strength and vigour of the
horse, the solemn force of the bull, and the light and ele-
gant action of the antelope, may all be traced in these framed
works of creation; and as the visitor quits the galleries, I
think I cannot be wrong in supposing, that he will own his
personal insignificance in the great scale, his conviction of
the adaptation of nature to all the purposes for which it was
intended, and will learn to respect that being of his own spe-
cies, who, by his influence, his personal exertion, amassed,
and, by his wisdom, set before him, the marvellous works
which he has just been contemplating.

With so perfect a knowledge of the formation of living

AS MEMOIRS OF

beings, it scarcely seems surprising that M. Cuvier should
have made those deep researches among the fragments of
the former inhabitants of the globe, by which his great
name has been associated with every labour relative to the
construction of the earth. For although the researches of
De Saussure, De Luc, Pallas, and Werner, appeared to have
brought geology to the highest perfection it could attain, it
was M. Cuvier who gave the impulse, who made a science
of fossil organic remains. His powerful comprehension, at
the first glance, measured the extent of the science, appreci-
ated its importance, and foresaw the light it would shed
over the formation of our planet. Already, in 1796, he read
a Memoir, at the Institute, which contained his suspicions,
that no species of those fossil remains, so abundant in the
northern parts of the world, belonged to animals now ex-
isting. He even then thought that they had formed beings
which had been destroyed by some revolution of the globe,
now replaced by others, perhaps equally to be destroyed.
With a view of ascertaining the truth of these suppositions,
he sought every means of determining the species, genera,
and classes of these relics, by an unwearied inspection of
ali that could be found, by making himself acquainted with
the discoveries prev iously made, by exactly ascertaining the
localities where these remains had been dug up, the nature
of the soils in which they had been env eloped : and he elo-
quently invited all the savans of Europe to aid him in his
great enterprise, impressing on them the importance of these
researches, aud requesting them to report their labours to
him, which labours he promised to state in his work, and
which promise he faithfully performed. In the preliminary
Discourse of the Fossil Remains (which has been published
in a separate form, has undergone several editions, and been
translated in almost every modern language, under the title
of “'Theory of the Earth,”) treating of the revolutions of
the globe, he says, “Antiquary of a new species, I have
been obliged at once to learn how to restore these monu-
ments of past times, and to decypher their meaning. I
have been obliged to collect and bring together the ‘frag-
ments which compose them into their primitive order; to
reconstruct these ancient beings ; to re-produce them with

their proportions and characters ; and, lastly, to compare

BARON CUVIER. 4G

them with those which now live on the surface of the
globe.”

To this task did M. Cuvier devote a large portion of his
life, and his first care was, to determine the living and fos-
sil species of elephants, which form the subject of the first
volume. he plan he adopted was, to describe the osteo-
logy of the best known species ; to point out the countries
they inhabit ; to ascertam how many species have been found ;
and, then, to compare them with those bones which are ina
fossil state. He himself visited many of the spots whence
these remains had been taken ; such as England, Holland,
Germany, and Italy; and others were brought to him, ina
order that he might be the eye-witness of every thing which
he endeavoured to prove. ‘These researches entirely set at
rest the question concerning the existence, or, rather, the
finding of human fossils. Such relics have never, as yet,
been discovered; and the Gaudaloupe skeletons, which
have been so, much talked of, had probably been deposited
in that place after shipwreck ; the soil by which they were
enveloped being of too recent a formation to admit of any
idea that they were true fossils, and the positions in which
they laid, not allowing of the supposition that they had
been purposely interred there. Also, the pretended histo-
ries of giants, are, in this volume, entirely refuted; and
amusing accounts are there given of the ignorance and cre-
dulity which caused them to be so generally circulated; but
on this occasion, as, in fact, all others, M.Cuvier’s own words
are the best, and he writesas follows:—“ The bonesof elephants
having more resemblance to those of man than they have to
those of other animals, even skilful anatomists have been often
tempted to take them for human remains and this probably
occasioned the pretended discoveries of the tombs of giants,
mentioned by ancient authors, and those of the middle ages.”
This example was unfailingly followed by more modern
writers, for the marvellous is delicious food to the minds of
most people. ‘I'he great propagator of the on dits of na-
tural history, Pliny, was not, of course wanting on this oc-
casion ; and he speaks of the supposed body of Orestes as
being thirteen feet three inches long. Few countries
have been without these fables, and (to continue M. Cu-
vier’s account) “one of the most celebrated was that of

E

50 MEMOIRS OF

"Peutobochus, in the reign of Louis XILL., which occasioned
a number of famous disputes, in which the actors were
much more anxious to abuse each other than to establish
the truth. One of them, however, named Riolan, for a
person who had never seen the skeleton of an elephant,
showed, with considerable skill, that these bones probably
belonged to such an animal. It would appear, as far as the
fact can be now ascertained, that on the Lith of January,
1613, some bones were found in a sand pit, near the castle
of Chaumont, or Langon, between the towns of Montri-
caut, Serre, and Antoine. Part of them were broken by
the workmen ; but a surgeon of Beaurepaire, named Ma-
zurier, showed those which remained whole for money, in
Paris, and several other places, and in order to excite further
curiosity, he circulated a pamphlet, in which he asserted that
they had been found in a sepulchre, thirty feet long, on
which had been inscribed, ‘ T’eutobochus Rex.’ It is well
known that this was the name of the King of the Cimbri
who fought against Marius; and, to further this supposi-
tion, M. Mazurier added, that fifty medals were found in
the same place, bearing the effigy of this Roman consul,
and the initials of his name. ‘The surgeon, however, was
accused of having employed a jesuit, named 'Tournon, to
write this pamphlet, and who forged the history of the
sepulchre and the inscription. ‘The pretended medals bore
Gothic instead of Roman letters, and it seems that Mazurier
never justified himself from these accusations of imposture.”
The bones were afterwards all recognised as belonging to
elephants ; but, notwithstanding this detection, there was
no end to the stories about giants, and each country possess-
ed its own marvellous tale. The city of Lucerne took for
supporters to its coat of arms pretended giants found in
1577, near that place, and close by the cloister of Reyden,
ina hole, which was accidently formed by the tearing up
of a large oak by the roots, ina heavy gale of wind. ‘The
Council of Lucerne sent them to Felix Plater, a physician
at Bale, who had a drawing made of a human skeleton,
the size which he thought these bones indicated. [t mea-
sired nineteen feet, and was sent, with the bones, back to
Lucerne, where the drawing is still preserved. It, and the
bones still in existence, were recently inspected by M, Blu-

BARON CUVIER. 51

menbach, who recognised the latter as belonging to an ele-
phant. ,

But the champions of human fossils were not contented
with making them out of the bones of elephants ; and hav-
ing found some animal remains imbedded in slate, a few
leagues from the Lake of Constance, a learned physician
wrote a particular dissertation on them, entitled, “L’ Homme
Témoin du Deluge.”—“ It is not to be refuted,” said
he, “here is the half, or nearly the whole of the skeleton
of a man, even the substance ‘of the bones, and, what is
more, the flesh, and parts still softer than the flesh, are in-
corporated with the stone. In short, it is one of the rarest
relics we possess of that cursed race which was buried un-
der the waters.” The assertions of the learned Doctor,
however, vanished before the penetrating eye of M. Cuvier,
who, judging from the relative form and proportion of the
bones, decided that this fossil was no other than that of an
aquatic salamander, of a gigantic size and unknown spe-
cies. In 1811, having the power of examining the stone
which contained this “ witness of the deluge,” he, in pre-
sence of several distinguished savans, and “with the draw-
inte of a salamander before him, at every stroke of the chi-
sel verified his assertion.

But to return to the elephants: Asiatic Russia swarms
with these monstrous remains, and the imhabitants explain
the phenomenon by supposing that they belong to some
living subterraneous animal partaking of the nature of the
mole, and which they call Mammout, or Mammoth. This
fable also extends to China. Besides the relics of true ele-
phants, found in America, there have been yet two other
gigantic animals discovered ; the Mastodon and the Mega-
therium, the former bearing great affinity to the elephant.
These animals have also formed a foundation for many ab-
surd stories, all of which have been refuted by M. Cu-
vier’s luminous researches: he states, “ that the great ani-
mal of Ohio was very similar to the elephant in its tusks
and its osteology, with the exception of its jaws ; that it
very probably had a trunk, but that in height it did not ex-
ceed the elephant. It was, however, longer than that quad-
ruped, its limbs thicker, its belly of less volume ; but, not-
withstanding the little importance of these differences, the

By MEMOIKS OF

peculiar structure of its grinders suffices to establish it as 2
separate genus. If was nourished nearly in the same man-
ner as the hippopotamus and wild boar, but it did not oc-
casionally live in the water, like the former. It preferred
roots, and the fleshy parts of vegetables, which species of
food led it to seek an open or marshy country.” The bones
of the Mastodon Angustidens are much more common in
North America than elsewhere, and, perhaps, those of the
great Mastodon exclusively belong to that country. They
are better preserved and fresher than any other known fos-
sils, and, nevertheless, there is not the least authentic testi-
mony calculated to make us believe, that there is still in
America, or elsewhere, any living individual. ‘Therefore,
the accounts published, from time to time, in the American
papers, concerning those that have been met with wander-
ing through the vast forests, or over the immense plains of
this continent, have never been confirmed, and may be con-
sequently regarded as mere fables.

After having acquired vast experience in the connection
of organized beings with the soils in which they have been
preserved, and having decidedly proved, that the more an-
cient the formation, the more distant are its organic remains
from those now existing, M. Cuvier determined to observe
and describe all those contained in a limited circumference
round Paris. Already had he employed an intelligent
workman,* whom he himself paid, in the quarries at Mont-
martre, to collect the bones for him which were almost daily
found in that spot. He spared no expense, rewarded all
contributors with the greatest liberality, and joyfully spent
considerable sums on that collection, which, when his pub-
lications had given it the highest value, he afterwards pre-
sented to the Museum of the Jardin des Plantes, only re-
ceiving in return, duplicates from the public library, of those
works which were wanting in his own magnificent assem-
blage of books. Before M. Cuvier found an opportunity of
publishing his discoveries, by means of the Annales du Mu-
séum, and when the expense of employing professed art-
ists would have been to much for his means, he not only
drew, but engraved the plates himself; which precious proofs

* Named Varin.

BARON CUVIER. 53

of his talents are scattered through the work of which I am
now speaking, but are more particularly contained in the
third volume of the last edition.* This edition consists of
five quarto volumes, two of which, are divided into two
parts ; and among the numerous lights thrown upon living
objects, and on the construction of the earth, we find the
resurrection of numerous species of mammalia, birds, rep-
tiles, &c., making in all 168 vertebrated animals, which
form 50 genera, and of which fifteen are new. They have
been named by M. Cuvier, placed by him in the range of
created beings, and belong to every order except Quadru-
mana, of which, as well as the human race, not a single relic

* Had I no motive of friendship and esteem to induce me to make
known the merits of M. Laurillard, the secretary of M. Cuvier, it would be
but justice tomention him here, as one who was associated with his patron
in these and all succeeding labours, and who proved that the great anato-
mist carried his discrimimation even into the mental organization of hu-
manity. ‘The manner in which this association was formed is too interest-
ing tO be passed over in silence. M. Laurillard, also from Montbéliard,
left his native place in order to cultivate his talents for design in the capi-
tal, with a view of becoming professional. He was there introduced to
M. Frederic Cuvier, for whom he executed some drawings. He also made
one or two for M, Cuvier, without particularly attracting his notice. One
day, however, M. Cuvier came to his brother toask him to disengage a fos-
sil from its surrounding mass, an office he had frequently performed. M.
Laurillard was the only person to be found on the spot, and to him NM.
Cuvier applied in the absence of his brother. Little aware of the value
of the specimen confided to his care, he cheerfully set to work, and suc-
ceeded in getting the bone entire from its position. M. Cuvier, after a
short time, returned for his treasure, and when he saw how perfect it
was, his ecstacies became incontrollable ; he danced, he shook his hands,
he uttered expressions of delight, till M. Laurillard, in his ignorance both
of the importance of what he had done, and of the ardent character of M.
Cuvier, thought he was mad. Taking however his fossil foot in one hand,
and dragging M. Laurillard’s arm with the other, he led him up-stairs to
present him to his wife and sister-in-law, saying, “I have got my foot, and
M. Laurillard found it for me.” It seems, that this skilful operation con-
firmed all M. Cuvier’s previous conjectures concerning a foot, the existence
and form of which he had already guessed, but for which he had long and
vainly sought. So oceupied had he been by it, that when he appeared to
be particularly absent, his family were wont to accuse him of seeking his
fore foot. The next morning the able operator and draftsman was engaged
as secretary ; and M. Cuvier not only attached to himself a powerful co-
adjutor, but an affectionate and faithful friend, devoted to him during life,
and now finding his greatest happiness in doing and saying that which he
thinks will most honour the memory of one so loved and revered. He is
appointed, by the will of M. Cuvier, to finish and publish all the drawings
they had made together for the great work, which he called the “Grande
Anatomie comparée,”—and most fervently must all followers of the sci-

ence wish for its appearance.

E*

54 MEMOIRS OF

has yet been found in a fossil state. All their localities have
been stated, and all the collections mentioned where they have
been preserved, with a laborious fidelity and extraordinary
erudition. He had, however, many difficulties to conquer,
among which was that of the incredulity of others, who,
being ignorant of the laws of organization, of the necessa-
ry co-existence of certain forms, did not comprehend how it
was possible to re-establish an animal from the fragments of
its bones scattered through the layers of the earth. How he
triumphed will be gathered from the following extract from a
letter written to Dr. Duvernoy, a few days after a meeting im
which he had been obliged to discuss some particular objec-
tions addressed to him. He thus wrote (1806,)—* They
have just brought me the skeleton of an anoplotherium,
which is almost entire, taken from Montmartre, and nearly
five feet long. All my conjectures have been verified, and
I find that the animal had a tail, as long and as Jarge as that
of a kangaroo, which completes its singularities.” For the
furtherance of his inspection of the neighbourhood of Pa-
ris, M. Cuvier associated the learned geologist, M. Brong-
niart, with him in his researches, who more particularly con-
fined himself to fossil mollusca, and comparative observa-
tions concerning other countries. ‘The principal geological
result of these inspections was to make known the fresh
water deposits above the chalk, each deposit covered by a
marine deposit ; irrefragable proofs of several irruptions
and alternate retreats of the sea, in the basin of Paris and
its environs, since the period of the chalk formation. This
discovery was solely due to M. Cuvier, and it was at Fon-
tainebleau that the truth suddenly flashed across his mind.
“ Brongniart,” he cried, “ j’ai trouvé le nceud de Vaffaire.”
“ Et quel est-il?” asked M. Brongniart. “C’est quil y a
des terrains marins, et des terrains d’eau douce,” replied M.
Cuvier.* It is most interesting to see how after many years
of uninterrupted and difficult investigation, of profound
study and meditation, M. Cuvier, in his beautiful prelimina-
ry Discourse, sums up the facts which afford indisputable
evidence of these great phenomena. “I think,” said the

* “T have solved the difficulty.” And what is it ?”--“ It is, that there
are fresh water earths, and earths of salt water formation.’’

COR

BARON CUVIER. 5

learned author, with MM. De Luc and Dolomieu, “ that if
there be any thing positive in geology, it is, that the surface
of our globe has been the victim of a great and sudden revo-
lution, the date of which cannot be carried back further
than from five to six thousand years ; that this revolution
has buried and caused the disappearance of countries for-
merly inhabited by man, and animals which are now
known ; and, on the other hand, has exposed the bottom
of the water, and has formed from that the countries now
inhabited .... but these countries which are now dry had
already been inhabited, if not by man, at least by terrestia}
animals ; consequently one preceding revolution at least
must have covered them with water, and, if we may judge by
the different orders of animals of which we find the remains,
they had perhaps been submitted, to two or three irruptions
of the sea ; and these irruptions, these repeated retreats,
have not all been slow or gradual. ‘The greater number of
the catastrophes which brought them about have been sud-
den, a fact easily proved by the last of all, the traces of
which are most manifest, and which has still left in the
North, the bodies of large quadrupeds, seized by the ice,
and by it preserved, even to our own times, with their skin,
their fur, and their flesh. Had they not been frozen as soon
as killed, putrefaction would have decomposed them ; and
this eternal frost has only prevailed over the places inhabit-
ed by them, in consequence of the same catastrophe which
has destroyed them ; the cause, therefore, has been as sud-
den as the effect it produced.”

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

56 MEMOIRS OF

One of the most important questions treated of in this
work is that of the alteration in animal forms; whether
the forms of lost animals, which differ so much from those
which are now living, really indicate species and genera
distinct from species and genera now existing, or if time
alone has modified the primitive forms, so as to attain the
present form. ‘The examination of this question alone
would give a satisfactory answer (could they be convinced)
to those whe believe in the indefinite alteration of forms in
organized beings, and whe think that, with time and habits,
each species might have made an exchange with another,
and thus have resulted from one single species. However
extraordinary and incomprehensible this system may anpear
to be, which would take away the basis on which science
rests, and which could only be established by a definition of
the possible duration of a species in its original state, M.
Cuvier, seriously refutes it, and destroys it with one objec-
tion, that of not finding intermediate modifications between
an animal of the former and present world, even when it
approaches it most nearly. He gives the definition of a spe-
cies, proves the constancy of certain conditions of the forms
which characterize it, and presents a table of the variations
which it is possible for it to undergo. In short, he demon-
strates, bya scrupulous examination of the skeletonsof mum-
mies, that the animals living in Egypt two or three thousand
years back, when compared with those which now breathe
on this classic ground, have not, in the course of so many
ages, undergone any important changes of form; that even
among the wild animals there has been no alteration in the
skeleton which could characterize one race or variety.
“There is nothing,” to use M. Cuvier’s own words, “ which
can in the least support the opinion, that the new genera
which | and other naturalists have discovered or established
among fossils, the Paleotherium, the Anoplotherium, &c., —
have been the parent stocks of some of the present ani-
mals, which only differ from them in consequence of other
soil, climate,” &c. Further on he continues,—‘ When I
maintain that stony strata contain the bones of several gene-
ra, and moveable earths those of several species which no
longer exist, I do not pretend that a new creation has been.
necessary to produce the existing species. I merely say

BARON CUVIER. 57

that they did not exist in the places where we now see them,
and that they have come from elsewhere. For example,
let us suppose that a great irruption of the sea shall now
coverghe continent of New Holland with a mass of sand,
or other débris ; the bodies of kangaroos, wombats, dasyuri.
perameles flying phalangiste echidne, and ornithorynchi,
will be buried under it, and it will entirely destroy every spe-
cies, of these genera, since none of them now exist in othe
countries.

“ Let this same revolution dry up the sea which covers
the numerous straits between New Holland and the con-
tinent of Asia: it will open a way for the elephant, the
rhinoceros, the buffalo, the horse, the camel, the tiger, and
all other Asiatic quadrupeds, who will people a country
where they have been hitherto unknown. A _ naturalist
afterwards living among them, and by chance searching
into the depths of the soil on which this new nature lives,
will find the remains of beings wholly different. That
which New Holland would be in the above case, Ku-
rope, Siberia, and a great part of America are now, and,
perhaps, when other countries, and New Holland itself,
shall be examined, we shall find that they have all under-
gone similar revolutions. I could almost say, a mutual ex-
change of productions ; for, carrying the supposition stil!
further, after this transportation of Asiatic animals into
New Holland, let us imagine a second revolution, which
shall destroy Asia, their primitive country; those who
afterwards see them in New Holland, their second country,
will be as embarrassed to know whence they came, as we
can be now to find the origin of our own.”

I am aware that the extent of the work of which I am

speaking can scarcely be recognized in the few extracts |

am able to make, and it is with a sort of fearfulness that 1

cite a few isolated passages, for fear of injuring the rest.
There must, however, necessarily be a degree of impertfec-
tion where we can only judge by parts, detached from a
whole, which is so beautiful when entire; and again im-
pressing on my readers that this volume is intended to lay
before them the man himself, and describe his labours, not
to review or criticise them, I have less hesitation in pro-
ceeding.

58 MEMOIRS OF

The gradual developement of great facts, the doubts ex-
isting in the mind of the author at certain periods of his
progress, the confirmation or dissipation of these doubts,
the methods employed to ascertain the truth, the sacrifice
of one part of a fossil to verify another, the ingenious con-
trivances for separating the remains from the surrounding
mass, the application of plaster models, which not only
brought him faithful impressions of those which he could
not procure, from distant countries, but distributed his own
to every part of the world; are all related in the course of
the work with the most beautiful simplicity. When speak-
ing of the sarigue*, M. Cuvier says, “This rich collection
of the bones and skeletons of the animals of a former world
is doubtless an enviable possession. It has beenamassed by
nature in the quarries which environ our city, as if reserved
by her for the researches and instruction of the present age.
Each day we discover some new relic ; each day adds to our
astonishment by demonstrating, more and more, that nothing
which then peopled this part of the globe has been preserved
on its present surface; and these proofs will doubtless multiply
in proportion as our interest in them is increased, and we are
consequently induced to give them more of our attention.
There is scarcely a block of gypsum, in certain strata, which
does not contain bones. How many millions of these bones
have been already destroyed in working these quarries for
the purposes of building ! How many are destroyed by neg-
ligence, and how many escape the most attentive work-
man, from the minuteness of their size! Some idea of this
may be formed from the piece Lam going to describe. The
lineaments there imprinted are so faint, that they must be
narrowly examined in order to be recognized. Neverthe-
less, these lineaments are most precious, for they belong to
an animal of which we find no other traces; and to an
animal which, perhaps, buried of ages, now re-appears, for the
first time, to the eye of the naturalist.” At the end of the
description of the sarigue, M. Cuvier continues,—I will not
dilate on the geological consequences of this Memoir,t for it
will be evident to all those who understand the systems re-

* A species of opossum.
{ It was first published as a separate Memoir in the Annales du Muséum.

BARON CUVIER. 59

lative to the theory of the earth, that it overturns almost
every thing which concerns fossil remains. It has been
admitted that the fossils of the North have been animals
from Asia ; it was also allowed that the animals of Asia had
passed over into North America, and had been there bu-
ried; but it appeared that the American genera had
come from their own soil, and had never extended to the
countries which now form the Old World. My disco-
veries lead to the contrary opinion, and this is the second
proof I have received. Fully persuaded of the futility
of all these systems, I congratulate myself whenever a
well-attested fact destroys some one of them. The great-
est service that can be rendered to science is, carefully and
decidedly to find the place of every thing before building
upon it, then to begin by overthrowing all those fantastic
edifices which choke up the avenues, and which prevent
the entrance of those men to whom the exact sciences
have given the excellent habit of relying solely on evidence.
or, in a dearth of positive evidence, on circumstances, ac-
cording to their degree of probability. With these precau-
tions there is noscience which may not almost become geo-
metrical. Chemists have lately found this with regard to
their pursuits; and I hope the period is ap far distant
whenas much will be said for anatomists.” Can [ be mis-
taken, after the perusal of the last two passages, in agree-
ing with M. Cuvier on the advantage of finding such a
collection of fossil remains within our reach, and from this
accordance to deduce the equal advantage of having had
such an intellect to explain, to apply.and to appreciate the
evidences thus presented to man of the changes which
have taken place in the earth which he inhabits ?

I now have to notice the two editions of the Régne
Animal, which, with the Tableau Elémentaire, I have al-
ready esteemed as one and the same work ; the first edi-
tion being a completion of the sketch contained in the 'T'a-
bleau, and the second edition being an enlargement of the
first, with a slight alteration in the classification, necessitat-
ed by the progress of discovery. Having used the dissect-
ing knife through every class of nature,* M. Cuvier was

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

60 MEMOIRS OF

necessarily struck with the confusion of systems, their want
of conformity to the internal structure of animals, and the
heap of synonymes which multiplied species to infinity ;
and, as may be seen throughout this work; accustomed
from the earliest age to entertain elevated views, and to
practise method, it was absolutely necessary, even for his own
future convenience, that he should rid classification of the in-
cumbrances which impeded its advancement. "The manner
in which he accomplished this object, is displayed in the pre-
face to the first edition of the Régne Animal, in the most in-
teresting manner, together with the assistance he received
from his colleagues, especially his brother, M. Frederic Cu-
vier, whose observations on the teeth of mammalia were of
the greatest service to him in forming some of his minor
divisions. This preface well describes the state in which he
found the classification of animals, when he first undertook
to free it from its shackles, and is annexed to both editions.
The great outlines of his system may be given nearly im
M. Cuvier’s own words :—“ There exists in nature four
principal forms, or general plans, according to which all
animals seem to have been modelled, and the ulterior divi-
sions of which, whatever name the naturalist may apply
to them, are but comparatively slight modifications, found-
ed on the developement, or addition of certain parts, which
do not change the essence of the plan.”

The introduction to these volumes contains the definition
of classes, orders, genera, &c., a general view of that
which is called organization, particularlypbat of animals,
its chemical composition, its forces, its Typellectual and
physical functions, and the application of method to
the four great forms of the animal kingdom. From
the latter I must be allowed to make a short extract.
“In the first (form,) which is that of man, and the ani-
mals which most resemble him, the brain and the princi-
pal trunk of the nervous system are enclosed in a bony
envelope, which is composed of the skull and vertebra : te
the sides of this middle column are attached the ribs and
bones of the limbs; all of which form the frame-work of
the body. ‘The muscles which give action to these bones
generally cover them, and the viscera are contained in the
head, and the trunk, or body. ‘I‘hese are styled vertebrat-

BARON CUVIER. 61

ed animals: they all have red blood, a muscular heart,
a mouth with two jaws, one above, or before the other,
distinct organs for sight, hearing, smell, and taste, placed in
the cavities of the face, never more than four limbs, the
sexes always separated, and a similar distribution of medul-
lary masses, and of the principal branches of the nervous
system. When thoroughly examining each of the parts
of this great series of animals, we shall always find some
analogy between them all, even in the species the farthest
from each other ; and we can follow the gradations of the one
same plan, from man to the last of the fishes. In the
second form there is no skeleton, the muscles are only at-
tached to the skin, which forms a soft envelope, contractile
in various senses, in many species of which are engendered
stony plates, called shells, the position and production of
which are analogous to those of the mucous body to which
they belong. ‘Their nervous system and viscera are con-
tained in this general envelope; the former is composed of
several scattered masses, united by nervous threads, the
principal of which, placed on the esophagus, bear the
name of brain. In general, they only possess the senses
of taste and sight, and even the last is often wanting.
Only one family can boast of the organ of hearing ; they
have always a complete system of circulation, and organs
peculiarly adapted to respiration; those of digestion and
secretion are nearly as complicated as the same organs in
vertebrated animals. ‘This second form is called that of
molluscous animals; and although the general plan of
their organization is not as uniform, with regard to their
external appearance, as that of vertebrated animals, there
is still a greater or lesser degree of resemblance in the
structure and functions of these parts.

“The third form is that which is to be found in insects
worms, &c. ‘I'heir nervous system consists of two long
cords, which traverse the belly lengthwise, and are enlarg-
ed from space to space into knots, or ganglions. The first
of these knots is situated above the cesophagus, and is con-
sidered as the brain; but it is scarcely larger than those
which are in the belly, with which it communicates by
threads, which embrace the cesophagus like a collar. The
envelope of this structure is divided by transversal folds into

F

62 MEMOIRS OF

a certain number of rings, the teguments of which are
sometimes hard, and at others soft, but to the interior of
which the muscles are always attached. The trunk often
bears articulated members on its sides, but is as often with-
out. ‘These are the articulated animals, and it is among
them that we observe the passage of the circulation in
closed vessels, or nutrition by imbibition, and the correspond-
ing passage of respiration in the circumscribed organs call-
ed trachez, or aérial vessels spread over the whole of the
body by means of which itis performed. Like the second
form, there is but one family which possesses the organs
of hearing, and those of the taste and sight are chiefly de-
veloped. If they have any jaws they are always lateral.
The fourth form embraces all the animals known under
the name of zoophytes, and is called that of radiated ani-
mals. In all the preceding, the organs of movement, and
the senses, are symmetrically disposed on the two sides of
an axis; they have a posterior, and an anterior face of
dissimilar appearance. But in those now mentioned, they
are as if composed of rays round a centre, even when
there are but two series of these rays, for then the two
faces are alike. ‘'l'hey approach the homogeneity of plants;
they have no very distinct nervous system, nor particular
organs for the senses. In some there are scarcely any
vestiges of circulation; their respiratory organs are almost
always on the surface of their bodies ; the greater number
have but one bag without issue for an intestine, and the
last families only present a sort of homogeneous pulp,
moveable, and sensible to the touch.” Here I must again
impress on the reader, that M. Cuvier’s first great discovery
was the necessity of separating this last form of animals
from the general mass of insects and worms, having read
his Memoir, pomting out the characters and limits of mol-
lusca, echinodermes, and zoophytes, to the Society of Na-
tural History in Paris, on the 10th of May, 1795. From
this he ascended to animals of more complicated form, for
it is only a man of narrow mind that can treat any part
of natural history with contempt. All others will see in it
“a continuance of that command given to Adam, to see,
io name, and to use the creatures put under his control.”
No branch of it, however trifling, but may be ennobled

BARON CUVIER. 63

by the manner in which it is pursued; and when the stu-
dent carries all its wonders back to the one Great Source,
the smallest worm and the most beautiful of his own spe-
cies will afford him subjects for the deepest contemplation.

The Régne Animal begins with that being which most
interests us, of which there is but one genus, and one spe-
cies ; the differences we observe in him being but varieties,
which are termed races. Nothing can be more calculated
to excite profound attention than M. Cuvier’s definition of
Man, and it would be so much injured by selecting pas-
sages from it, that extracts can only be made from that
portion entitled, “ Varieties of the Human Race.”——“ Three
of these are eminently to be distinguished from each other;
the White or Caucasian, the Yellow or Mongolian, the Ne-
gro or Ethiopian. "The Caucasian, to which we (Euro-
peans) belong, is remarkable for the beautiful oval form of
of the head, and from it have proceeded those people who
have attained the greatest civilization, and have held do-
minion over the rest. It varies in complexion, and the
colour of the hair. ‘The Mongolian is recognized by its
prominent cheek bones, flat face, narrow oblique eyes,
straight black hair, scanty beard, and olive tint. From
it have arisen the great empires of China and Japan, and
by it some great conquests have been achieved, but its civi-
lization has always remained stationary. ‘The Negro race
is confined to the south of the Atlas chain; its complexion
is black, hair woolly, skull compressed, nose flattened, muz-
zle projecting, lips thick, and nearly approaches monkies.
The natives which compose it have always remained in a
somparatively barbarous state.

“he Caucasian race is subdivided into three great
branches, and is supposed to have had its first origin in that
group of mountains situated between the Caspian and Black
Seas. The Syrian branch spread to the south, and produced
Assyrians, Chaldeans, Arabs, Phenicians, Jews, Abyssin-
ians, and probably Egyptians. From this branch, always
inclined to scepticism, have arisen the religious doctrines
most generally adopted. Sciences and letters have some-
times flourished among them, but always under some
strange shape, or in some figurative style. The Indian,
German, or Pelasgic branch took a still wider range, and

64 MEMOIRS OF

the affinities of its four principal languages are more miuiti-
plied.—The Sanserit, which is still the sacred language of
the Hindoos, is the parent of most of the Hindostanee tongues.
The Pelasgic was the source whence came the Greek, Latin,
and present dialects of the south of Europe. The Gothic
or Teutonic, whence are derived the north and north-west
languages, such as German, Dutch, English, Danish, Swe-
dish, and their varieties ; and, lastly, the Sclavonic, whence
came the languages of the north-east, viz. the Russian, the
Polish, the Bohemian, and the Vendean. It is this great
and respectable branch of the Caucasian race which has
carried philosophy, science, and art to their greatest perfec-
tion, and of which it has been the depositary for thirty cen-
turies. The inhabitants of the north, such as the Samo-
yedes, the Laplanders, and the Esquimaux, come, accord-
ing to some, from the Mongolian race, and according te
others they are the degenerated offspring of the Scythian
and Tartaric branch of the Caucasian. The Americans
cannot be clearly brought back to either of our races of the
Old World; and yet, nevertheless, they do not possess a
sufficiently precise and constant character to form a peculiar
race. ‘Their copper complexion is far from being enough ;
their black hair and their beard would approach them to
the Mongolian, if their marked features, their nose, equally
projecting with our own, their large and open eyes, did not
oppose this idea, and assimilate them to our European
forms. ‘Their languages are as innumerable as their na-
tions ; and no one has as yet been able to seize on demon-
strative analogies between themselves or between them and
the inhabitants of the ancient Continent.”

The second order of Mammalia, is that of the Quadru-
mana, or apes, who are many of them men without reason :
the third contains the Carnivora, which affords lions, tigers,
&c. and all that we can imagine of fearfulness and ferocity ;
and yet, from whence we derive our faithful dogs, our do-
mestic cats, and our most beautiful furs. The fourth is
named Marsupialia, and consists of those singular animals
whose young are prematurely born, and take refuge after-
wards in a pocket attached to the body of the mother, till
they are able to take care of themselves. ‘The fifth, Roden-
tia, ig that in which we find squirrels, rats, beavers, har es

BARON CUVIER. 65

&c. The sixth, Edentata, furnishes us with that disgust-
ing animal the sloth, and the ornithorynchus, that extraor-
dinary native of New Holland, which hasa beak like that
of a duck, feet so webbed as to resemble fins, fur like that of
a weasel, and which has by some been supposed to lay
eggs. ‘The seventh order is called Pachydermata, and in
it we find the largest animals which walk on the surface of
the globe, such as the elephant, the hippotamus, the rhino-
ceros, and also the horse, which has been in all ages the
most easily adapted to the use of mankind. The eighth,
Ruminantia, whence come the cow, the camel, and the rein-
deer ; the two latter of which convey their masters over the
hottest or the coldest regions of the earth; and lastly, the
ninth, or Cetacea, which presents us with the mighty
monsters ofthe deep. These nine orders are subdivided in-
to families, genera, subgenera, &c., and the most important
species are noticed with considerable detail.

From Mammalia, M. Cuvier proceeds to Birds; and after
their physiological description, he also divides them into
orders, pointing out the reasons of such divisions, and car-
rying us through every portion of the winged tribe. He
first embraces the ‘birds of prey, such as the vultures,
who act, as it were, the part of scavengers; the eagles who
prey by day, and owls who thieve by night; the second
contains the numerous genera of the Passeres, they are not
so violent as birds of prey, properly so called, nor have they
the decided habits of the Gallinaceze, or aquatic birds, but
devour insects, fruits, and grains ; those who pursue insects
will also feed on smaller birds, and have slender beaks ; and
those who eat grains have thick beaks. The first subdi-)
vision of this order depend on the feet, and the others on
the form of the beaks. Among them we find our singing
birds, our birds of paradise, and our humming birds. The
third order is that of the Climbers, such as the parrot, &ec.
The fourth embraces the Gallinacee, whence we derive
our farm-yard fowls,and most of our game. The fifth, or
Gralle, gives us the ostrich, the cassowary, the sacred ibis,
&c.; and the sixth, named the Palmipedes, presents us
with ducks, geese, pelicans, &c. &c.

As this first volume is conducted, so does the Régne Ani-
mal lead us through every part of the animal world, describ-

F*

66 MEMOIRS OF

ing all in forcible and clear terms, neither saying too much.
nor too little, commenting upon whatever is most remark-
able, viewing the affinities of these beings according to their
just value, and giving a model for methodical arrangement,
inasmuch as it approaches as nearly as possible to nature.
Tt must be observed, however, of the third volume, that as
the considerable increase of Kntomology, in common with
every other branch of natural history, rendered it impossible
for one man, in a reasonable time, thus minutely to treat the
whole series of life, M. Cuvier called in the assistance of M.
Latreille for that part of the work which relates to Insects
and Crustacea; but where the reader will find those enlight-
ened views,’ and that beautiful method, which is every
where practised by his great colleague. “ ‘The principles
on which M. Cuvier’s divisions rest, will necessarily preside
over all the changes which still more extended observation
will render indispensable; but the basis of zoological classi-
tication is for ever laid, and its solidity will prove, better than
all the discourses of future naturalists, the elevated genius
of the author.” *

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

The great work onIchthyology contains an application ot
M. Cuvier’s principles to one peculiar branch of natura!
history, and was not only intended by him as an example
of the extent of which such an undertaking is capable, but
served the double purpose of aiding his further researches
among fossil fishes. It was announced by himself in the
conclusion of that on Fossil Remains, in the following
terms:——“T shall now consecrate the remainder of my time

* Laurillard.

BARON CUVIER. 67

and strength to the publication of those researches already
made in the Natural History of Fishes, but, above all, to
the termination of my general 'T'reatise on Comparative
Anatomy.” Scarcely did he seem to breathe between the
finished and the commenced undertaking; in fact, the ma-
terials for several were collecting at the same time; that
which he termed his “General Treatise on Comparative
Anatomy” was always in preparation ; every week brought
a fresh accumulation of notes and drawings; many of the
latter, and all of the former, made by his own hand. The
plan of the Ichthyology was laid before the public by M.
Cuvier, in a Prospectus describing the state of this branch
of the science, his actual resources, and those he hoped to
enjoy. M. Valenciennes, now Professor of Mollusca to the
Museum of the Jardin des Plantes, was called in to aid him
in the innumerable details attendant on such an enterprise,
and is now charged with the continuation of the task which
his great master left unfinished. Eight volumes were pub-
lished at the time of M. Cuvier’s death, and, since then, M.
Valenciennes has added another; the whole to be completed
in twenty volumes. *

The title at once implies the nature of what is to follow :—
‘ Natural History of Fishes, containing more than Five
Thousand Species of these Animals, described after Nature,
and distributed according to their Affinities, with Observa-
tions on their Anatomy, and critical Researches on their
Nomenclature, ancient as well as modern.” Linneeus de-
termined 477 species, and De Lacepéde 1500 ; thus, with-
out calculating on the multiplication caused by the sy-
nonymes of these authors, the increase made by M. Cuvier
is enormous. ‘’hroughout the work one species is chosen
from each group for detail, and that preferred which is the
most interesting, or the easiest toprocure. This is deseribed
with the greatest minuteness, and serves not only as a type,
but a meansof comparison for the characteristic but simple dif-
ferences between the other species which compose the group.

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

58 MEMOIRS OF

The necessity of stating the different names given by va-
rious authors, and the discrimination required to separate
truth from fable in that which he reported of their economy,
demanded the exquisite judgment and profound experience
which rendered M. Cuvier so capable of the task ; and there
was a general eagerness felt, which does credit to naturalists
and collectors of all countries, to offer to him every speci-
men, every discovery, every observation, even before the
person so offering had himself published the particulars.
This was the latest work of magnitude undertaken by M.
Cuvier; and it is easy to judge, by solely viewing the rapid
growth of this one branch, how every thing advanced under
his influence and his personal exertions, and how materials
poured upon him from those who were sure of receiving
justice from his hands, and many of whom, rendered in-
capable by other pursuits or circumstances of publishing
their observations on their own account, were delighted to
be mentioned in his pages as among the very humble con-
tributors to his glory.

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

BARON CUVIER. §G

Happy if we could hope, in our turn, that owr endeavours
may rank among those which have marked the epochs of
science. It is tothis that all our efforts tend.”

From the history, M. Cuvier proceeds to give a generat
idea of the nature and organization of Fishes. The fol-
lowing is an extract from this part :—“ Being aquatic, that
is to say, living in aliquid which is heavier, and offers more
resistance than air, their forces for motion have been neces-
sarily disposed and calculated for progression, and elevation,
which is also accomplished by them with ease. Hence
arises that form of body which offers least resistance, the
chief seat of muscular force residing in the tail, the brevity
of their members, the expansibility of these members, and
the membranes which support them, the smooth or scaly
tezuments, and the total absence of hairs or feathers.
Breathing only through the medium of water, that is, for
the purpose of giving an arterial nature to their blood, profit-
ing by the small quantity of oxygen contained in the air,
which is mingled with the water, their blood is necessarily
cold, and their vitality, the energy of their senses and
movements, are consequently less than in Mammalia and
Birds. ‘Their brain, therefore, or rather a composition simi-
Jar to it, is proportionably much smaller, and the external
organs of their senses are not of a nature to admit of pow-
erful impressions. Fishes, in fact, are, of all vertebrated
animals, those which have the least apparent signs of sensi-
bility. Having no elastic air at their disposal, they have
remained mute, or nearly so, and all those sentiments
awakened or sustained by the voice have remained un-
known tothem. ‘Their eyes almost immoveable, their bony
and rigid countenance, their members deprived of inflexion,
and every part moving at the same time, do not leave them
any power of varying their physiogomy or expressing their
emotions. ‘Their ear, enclosed on every side by the bones
of the skull, without external conch or internal labyrinth,
and composed only of a few bags and membranous canals,
scarcely allows them to distinguish the most striking sounds;
and, in fact, an exquisite sense of hearing would be of very
little use to those destined to live in the empire of silence,
and around whomall are mute. Their sight, in the depths
of their abode, would be little exercised, if the greater num-

70 MEMOIRS OF

ber of the species had not, by the size of their eyes, been
enabled to supply the deficiency of light; but even in these
species, the eye scarcely changes its direction ; still less can
it change its dimensions, and accommodate itself to the dis-
tance of objects ; its iris neither dilates nor contracts, and
its pupil remains the same in every degree of light. No
tear bathes this eye, no eyelid soothes or protects it; and, in
fishes, it is but a feeble representation of that beautiful, bril-
liant, and animated organ of the higher classes of animals.
Procuring food by swimming after a prey which also swims
with greater or lesser rapidity, having no means of seizing
this prey but by swallowing it, a delicate sense of taste
would have been useless to fishes had nature bestowed it on
them. But their tongue, almost immoveable, often bony, or
armed with dentated plates, and only receiving a few slen-
der nerves, shows us that this organ is as little sensible as it
is little necessary. Smell even cannot be as continually
exercised by fishes as by animals which breathe air in a di-
rect manner, and whose nostrils are unceasinely traversed
by odoriferous vapours. Lastly, we come to the touch,
which, from the surface of their bodies being encircled by
scales, by the inflexibility of the rays of their members,
and by the dryness of the membranes which envelope them,
has been obliged to seek refuge at the end of their lips ; and
even these, in some species, are reduced to a dry and in-
sensible hardness.”

{n the whole of the chapter from which the above pas-
sage is selected, there is a poetical feeling, in which M.
Cuvier rarely indulged when treating of science, but with
which we find he could occasionally sport without injury to
his subject. In the next chapter he resumes his more pre-
cise manner; and the contrast is the more striking, as this
chapter may be almost styled a collection of aphorisms. It
speaks of the exterior of fishes, and is succeeded by others
containing the oteology, myology, brain, and nerves, nutri-
tion, reproduction, anda general summing up and methodi-
cal distribution of this class into its great divisions, its natu-
ral families, &c. From the latter may be selected a pas-
sage weil calculated to prevent those who study systems
from falling into a very common error. “ Let it not be
imagined, because we place one genus or one family before

BARON CUVIER. 6 |

another, that we consider them as more perfect, or superior
to another in the series of beings. He only could pretend
to do this, who would pursue the chimerica! project of rang-
ing beings in one single line,—a project which we have
long renounced. ‘The more progress we have made in the
study of nature, the more we are convinced that this is one
of the falsest ideas that has ever resulted from. the pursuit
of natural history ; the more we have been convinced of the
necessity of considering each being, each group of beings,
by itself, and the part it plays by its properties and organi-
zation, and not to make abstraction of any of its affinities,
or any of the links which attach it, either to the beings near-
est to it, or the most distant from it. Once placed in this
point of view, difficulties vanish, all arranges itself for the
naturalist : but systematic methods only embrace the near-
est affinities ; and by placing a being only between two
others, they will always be wrong. he true method is,
to view each being in the midst of all others: it shows all
the radiations by which it is more or less closely linked with
that immense network which constitutes organized nature ;
and it is this only which can give us that great idea of na-
ture, which is true, and worthy of her and her Author ; but
ten or twenty rays often would not suffice to express these
innumerable affinities.... We shall therefore approach to
each other those whom nature has approximated, without
feeling obliged to put into our groups the beings she has
not placed there ; and making no scruple, after having de-
monstrated, for example, all the species which will admit of
being arranged in a well-defined genus, all the genera
which may be placed in a well-defined family, to leave out
one or several isolated species or genera, which are not at-
tached to others in a natural manner ; preferring the ho-
nest avowal of these irregularities, if we may be allowed to
call them so, to those errors which must arise from leaving
these species, and anomalous genera, in a series, the charac-
ters of which they do not embrace.”

The first great division of Fishes treated of by M. Cu-
vier, and with which the second volume commences, is that
of the Acanthopterygii, or fishes with spinous rays" to their
fins ; and foremost amongst these, is the numerous family
of the Perches, or Percoides, which occupies the two suc-

¢2 MEMOIRS OF

ceeding volumes. The fourth volume contains the family
of the Joues Cuirassées, many of which, and especially
those of the tropical seas, present themselves under extraor-
dinary and exaggerated forms, and to which belong the
beautiful little sticklebacks of our running streams. The
fifth volume embraces the Scienoides ; the sixth, the Spa-
roides, and the Menides ; the seventh, the Squammipennes,
and the Pharyngiens Labyrinthiformes ; and the eighth and
ninth, the Scomberoides. Each volume is closed by the
additions and corrections which the authors have found it
requisite to make during the progress of their publication ;
and I have offered this short list, because it has been a
question often repeated, even to myself, how far this noble
work was advanced when its progress was so grievously ar-
rested. It is the intention of M. Valenciennes to proceed as
rapidly as possible with the rest, designating those parts
which are solely due to the exalted genius, under whose
auspices he has become worthy of continuing this extensive
and admirable enterprise.* |

In noticing the Ichthyology, I have had occasion to speak
of M. Cuvier as the historian of the science to which he
was devoted; and this leads me to mention here, the an-
nual reports made by him at the institute, in which, from
the age of twenty-six, he had been accustomed to lay before
that body the labours of its members and correspondents,
thereby forming a general history of science from that pe-

* T have always been very much struck with one part of this work, and
therefore cannot forbear calling the attention of the reader to it. It is the
way in which M. Cuvier refutes the opinions of M. Geoffroy St. Hilaire,
who had long opposed him with considerable warmth. As far as relates
to Fishes, M. Cuvier, in notes at the bottom of certain pages, places his
antagonist’s arguments in two columns, and by the side of them, in two
others, sets forth his refutations. Nota word of personal feeling is added,
not a single argument is brought in, to aid in persuading the reader that he
is right ; there are the two systems, equally exposed, and he who peruses
them, perfectly at liberty to verify and judge for himself. ‘This ditference
of opinion being ‘pursued with acrimony on (several oceasions by M. Geof-
froy, it at last became a matter of discussion before the Institute ; and M.
Cuvier, who had long remained silent with the most heroic forbearance, at
length was induced to reply. After some little time, M. Geoffroy retired
from this direct contest ; but it is to be hoped, that the surviving friends of
M. Cuvier will one day publish his opinions separated from his great works,
so that they may he accessible to those who may not have either time or —
opportunity to seek them in the general tenor of his publications.

BARON CUVIER. is

viod till his death. In these “ Analyses des Parties Phy-
siques des Travaux de Académie des Sciences,” we see
the universality of his genius and acquirements ; and, like
almost all his other undertakings, we may consider this mass
of reports, and the qualifications necessary for the making of
them, as alone sufficient for the employment of a life. They
comprehend, first, Meteorology and Natural Philosophy in
general ; secondly, Chemistry and Physics, properly so call-
ed, and when the explanation of the facts did not demand
calculation ; thirdly, Mineralogy and Geology ; fourthly,
Vegetable Physiology and Botany ; fifthly, Anatomy and
Physiology ; sixthly, Zoology ; seventhly, Travels which
were connected with the advancement of natural sciences :
eighthly, Medicine and Surgery ; ninthly, the Veterinary
Art; and tenthly, Agriculture. E'rom these analyses a just
idea may be formed of most of the principal discoveries
made in all these branches of science during the time of
_M. Cavier ; for not only did the members and appointed
_ correspondents of the Institute feel it a duty to communicate
their endeavours tothis body, but many strangers felt a lau-
dable pride in submitting their efforts to those who would
be likely to appreciate them. All is described by M. Cuvier
in his usually clear and forcible language, “ frequently sur-
prising even the author himself by the lucidity with which
his own ideas and experiments are set forth, and sometimes
creating in him new or different views of the subject which
had long occupied his thoughts.”* The same fearlessness
of rendering justice marked these reports, as well as the
other productions of the writer; and from their impartiality,
their truth, and beautiful unity, they might have been sup-
posed rather to have related to times long past, than to have
been a record of the labours of contemporaries. Not a
word of his own opinions or feelings escapes him ; he men-
tions his own works with the most perfect modesty and
simplicity, and scrupulously states, with invariable fidelity,
every argument. brought forward, even against his own
views and sentiments.

Besides these annual reports, M. Cuvier was charged by
the Emperor with a new task, which he thus announces in

* Dr. Duvernoy.
G

74 MEMOIRS OF ‘a

a letter to his friend M. Duvernoy :—‘ All my labours are
neatly arrested by a work demanded by the Emperor, the
greater part of which has devolved upon me as secretary to
the class (of natural sciences.) tis a history of the march
and progress of the human mind since 1789. You may
suppose to what a degree this is a complicated undertaking,
respecting natural sciences; thus | have already written a
volume, without having nearly reached the end ;_ but this
history is so rich, there is such a beautiful mass of discove-
ries, that I have become interested in it, and work at it
with pleasure. I hope it will be a striking dissertation on
literary and philosophical history; but above all things, [
endeavour to point out the real views which ought to guide
ulterior researches.” It may be considered as a work of the
same nature as those which I have just been describing, only
infinitely greater in extent, inasmuch as it embraces a lar-
ger portion of time, and extends to those who were not in
the habit of communicating with the Institute.

Napoleon had conceived the bold thought of embracing,
at one view, all that the general impulse towards learning
and science had produced since the above period; and it
may be unhesitatingly affirmed, that the execution of his
wishes accorded with the elevated feelings from which they
sprang. It commences with one’ of those introductions
which always rank among the highest efforts of M. Cu-
vier’s genius ; in which he sets before us,—if I may be al-
lowed so to express myself,—the sublimity of science; and
is throughout remarkable for the extensive views it takes,
and its unflinching impartiality. "The following beautiful
passage is among the concluding pages, which pages con-
tain a solicitation for amendments and continued protection
on the part of the Emperor :—* 'T’o lead the mind of man
to its noble destination—a knowledge of the truth,—to
spread sound and wholesome ideas among the lowest class-
es of the people, to draw human beings from the empire of
prejudices and passions, to make reason the arbitrator and
supreme guide of public opinion ; these are the essential
objects of science. ‘This is how she contributes to the ad-
vancement of civilization; this is why she merits the pro-
tection of those governments, who, desirous of erecting their
power on the surest foundation, form their basis on the com-

é

i
BARON CUVIER. 15

mon good.” This report, aha the “ Analyses des Travaux,”
have been collected together as far as 1827, and published
as a supplement to the “ Cuuvres complates de Buffon,”
edited by M. Richard, and form two octavo volumes.

The active part taken by M. Cuvier, in conjunction with
other savants, in the “ Dictionnaire des Sciences Naturelles,”
and the influence of his name, were doubtless of infinite ser-
vice to this valuable enterprize. His Prospectuses were
quite as remarkable as any of his other productions, and
many writers applied to him for assistance in this respect.
It was not, however, only when sought that he contributed
his aid ; but, saying to a young author, “ Tet me see your
Prospectus,” and havi ing seen it, adding, “let me arrange
this for you,” the next day, a page or two of eloquence
would be ready for the press, which could not fail to pro-
duce a favourable impression of the forthcoming publication.
That which announced the Dictionary I have just men-
tioned, rapidly exposes the history of science up to that time,
and vouches for the pains taken by the contributors to its
pages, that the extent to which science has lately carried
her researches should be in every way gratified. ‘Those
great names with which M. Cuvier’s has been so often as-
sociated in France and in England, are mentioned in the
first pages in a manner so interesting, and so satisfactory,
that 1 cannot resist the pleasure of quoting his words. "The
extract is preceded by a view of the advantages which sci-
ence received from the precepts of Bacon, and is as follows :
—‘ Nevertheless, it is probable that Natura! History would
not have so soon arrived at the brilliant condition for which
it had been prepared by these wise precepts, had not two of
the greatest men who adorned the last century concurred,
notwithstanding the opposite natures of their views and
characters (or, perhaps, by this very opposition concurred,)
in causing its sudden and extensive growth. Linnzeus and
Buffon, in fact, seem to have possessed, each in his own
way, those qualities which it was impossible for the same
man to combine, and all of which were necessary to give a
rapid impulse to the study of nature. Both passionately
fond of this science, both thirsting for fame, both indefatiga-
ble in their studies, both gifted with sensibility, lively imagi-
nations, and elevated minds ; they each started in their ca-
reer, armed with those resources which result from profound

eae

76 MEMOIRS OF

erudition. But each of them traced a different path for

. himself, according to the peculiar bent of his genius. Lin-

neeus seized on the distinguishing characters of beings, with
the most remarkable tact; Buffon, at one glance, embraced
the most distant affinities: Linneus, exact and precise, creat-
ed a language on purpose to express his ideas clearly, and
at the same time concisely: Buffon, abundant and fer-
tile in expression, used his words to develope the extent
of his conceptions. No one ever exceeded Linnzus in im-
pressing every one with the beauties of detail with which
the Creator has profusely enriched every thing to which he
has given life. Noone better than Buffon ever painted
the majesty of creation, and the imposing grandeur of
the laws to which she is subjected. 'The former, fright-
ened at the chaos or ate state in which his prede-
cessors had left the history of nature, contrived by simple
methods, and short and clear definitions, to establish or-
der in this immense labyrinth, and render a knowledge of
individual beings easy of attainment: the latter, disgusted
at the dryness of antecedent writers, who, for the most part
were contented with giving exact descriptions, knew how
to interest us for these cbjects by the magic of his harmo-
nious and poetical language. ‘Sometimes the student, fa-
tigued by the perusal of Linnzeus, reposed himself with
Buffon; but always, when deliciously excited by his en-
chanting descriptions, he returned to Linneeus in order to
class this beautiful imagery, fearing, that without such aid
he might only preserve a confused recollection of its subject ;

and doubtless, it is not the least of the merits of these two

authors, thus incessantly to Inspire a wish to return to each
other, although this alternation seems to prove, and in fact
does prove, that, in each, something is wanting. As unfor-
tunately is but too often the case, the imitators of Linnzeus
and Buffon have precisely adopted the defects of each of
their masters; and that which was in them but a slight
shade in a magnificent picture, is become the principal cha-
racter in the productions of many of their respective disci-
ples. Some have only copied the dry and neological phra-
ses of Linnaeus, without recollecting that he himself only
looked upon his system as the scaffolding of an edifice of
rouch greater importance, and that in the special histories
which his numerous labours have permitted him to write,

BARON CUVIER. 77
he has not neglected a single thing which belongs to the
existence of the being which he describes. Others have
only admired the general views and lofty style of Buffon, -
without remarking that he only decorated a series of facts,
collected with the most judicious criticism, with these bril-
liant ornaments ; and even that nomenclature, which they
affect to despise, is always established by him with great
erudition, after the most careful and ingenious discussion.”
i close this extract with a remark made upon M. Cuvier
by M. Duvernoy, who has also cited the above passage in
an éloge on his illustrious master, addressed to his disciples
at Strasburgh.—‘'‘ May we not say, after this, that he who
so well appreciated these great men, who so happily found
in the one, that which was wanting in the other, knew
how to unite the excellencies of both in his own writings ;
or rather, that his genius, in its originality, had nothing
incomplete, nothing which could make us feel the want of
the true method on one side; nor the absence of general
views on the other.”

A list of the articles contributed by M. Cuvier to the
above mentioned Dictionnaire will be found among the
catalogue of his works at the end of this volume; but that
headed “ Nature” is too important to be passed over in
silence here; to remain unnoticed in memoirs especially
intended to set forth his opinions; for it contains the clear-
est and most satisfactory refutation of the reigning contro-
versies that has ever been published in a separate form ;
though what these opinions were, may be gathered from
every thing he has written.

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

*
G

78 MEMOIRS OF | ‘

“This word Nature is also extended to things which are
not born, to unorganized beings in general, in order to de-
signate the peculiar and intrinsic qualities which they al-
ways possess. ‘T'he nature of gold is to be heavy, yellow,
and not liable to decomposition by air or humidity, &c.
Thus taken in its most generic acceptation, the nature of a
thing is that which makes it what it is—that which dis-
tinguishes it, which constitutes it—in a word, its essence:
and it is thus that we speak even of the Being of beings,—
of Him in whom, and by whom, are all things ; and there-
fore the expression applied to God, and to his attributes, is
a most improper term when applied to the vilest and most
perishable bodies. But that which exists in the nature of
each individual, exists also in each species, and each genus;
and thus, rising from abstraction to abstraction, we at
length arrive at the idea of a general nature of all things;
this embraces the qualities common to all beings, and the
laws of their mutual affinities: it is the nature of things
taken in its most abstract sense. Lastly. by a figure of
speech, common to all languages, this term has been em-
ployed for the things themselves, for the substances to which
these qualities belong. Nature then is, all beings, or the
universe, or the world; and when considered as contingent
and in opposition to the necessary Being, to God, it is call-
ed Creation. Nature, the world, creation, the whole of
created beings, are, then, so many synonymes.

“ But by another of those figures of speech to which all
languages are prone, Nature has been personified; exist-
ing beings have been called the works of Nature, and the
general affinities of these beings among themselves have
been called the laws of Nature. The definitive result of
these affinities, which is a certain constancy of motion, a
certain fixedness in the proportion of the species; in short,
the preservation, to a certain degree, of the order once es-
tablished ; has been entitled the wisdom of Nature. Last-
ly, the enjoyments afforded to sensible beings have taken
the name of the bounty of Nature. Here, under the
name of Nature, the Creator himself is evidently repre-
sented ; they are his works, his cares, his wisdom, and his
goodness, which are thus meant. Nevertheless, it is by
thus considering Nature as a being gifted with intelligence

BARON CUVIER. 79

and will, but secondary and limited with regard to power,
that we are able to say of her, that she unceasingly
watches over the preservation of her works, that she
makes nothing in vain, that she effects all by the most
simple methods, that she contributes to the cure of diseases,
but that she is sometimes overcome by the force of malady ;
and other adages; many of which are only true in a very
limited sense, and in a very different manner from that
which they seem to offer at the first glance. . .. In propor-
tion as the knowledge of astronomy, physics, and chemis-
try has been extended, these sciences have renounced the
false reasoning which resulted from the application of this
figurative language to real phenomena. ‘Some physiolo-
gists only have continued to use it, because the obscurity
in which physiology is still enveloped, renders it necessary
to attribute some reality to the phantoms of abstraction, in
order to practise illusion on themselves and others, concern-
ing their profound ignorance as touching vital motion.

‘“‘ Nevertheless, this ancient idea of an active but subor-
dinate principle, distinct from ordinary forms, and the laws
ef motion which should preside over organization, and
which should keep it in order, still prevails, not only in
language, but in the systems of a great many writers,
who, although they allow the justice of the distinctions
we have now made, yet suffer themselves to be drawn un-
consciously towards doctrines which have no other founda-
tion. Such are the doctrines of the ‘ Scale of Nature,’ the
‘ Unity of composition, and others similar to these, which
have all been imagined in consequence of the belief in a
Nature distinct from the Creator, and less powerful than
he is, and which have no evident support, but in those fan-
cied limits which they place to his power.

“That each effect may proceed from a cause, which
cause is to be traced to an anterior cause; that in this
rmoanner all events, all successive phenomena, may be link-
ed together; that there may be no interruption in the
march of nature, and that we may, in this sense, com-
pare her toa chain, all the rings of which are attached
to and follow each other; is evident on the least reflection.
That the beings which exist in the world are so construct-
ed as to maintain a permanent order; that they have, con-

80 iat MEMOIRS OF

sequently, sufficient for all their wants; that their action
and re-action may exist In every place, and at every mo-
ment, as necessary for this permanency; that it may be
the same with the parts of each being; the very mainte-
nance of this order teaches us. Lastly, that in this innu-
merable multitude of different beings, each, taken apart,
may find some which resemble it more than others, by
their internal and external forms ; that it may be the same
with these, relative to a third set; and-that, consequently,
we may be able to group near each being, a certain num-
ber of other beings which approach. it in different degrees ;
must necessarily be the case. But, that we ought to ap-
ply to the resemblances of these simultaneous beings, that
which is true concerning the relation of successive pheno-
mena and events; that the forms of these beings necessa-
rily constitute a series or a chain, so that the eye may gra-
dually pass from one to the other, without finding any gap,
any hiatus ; in short, the existence of a continued and re-
gular scale in the forms of beings, from the stone to the
man; this is what our three concessions by no means
prove ; this is what is not true, whatever eloquence may
have been used in tracing the imaginary picture. The
philosophers who have supported this system of a scale of
beings, at each interruption which is pointed out to them,
pretend, that if a step is wanting, it is hidden in some cor-
ner of the globe, where a fortunate traveller may one day
discover it. Nevertheless, all regions, all seas, have been
explored ; the number of species collected increases every
day; there are, perhaps, a hundred-fold more than when
these paradoxical opinions began to be established, and
none of the spaces are filled up; all the interruptions re-
main; there is nothing intermediate between birds and
other classes; there is nothing between vertebrated ani-
mats and those which have no vertebre. The distinctions
of true naturalists remain in all their force; the laws of
the co-existence of organs, those of their reciprocal exclu-
sion, remain unshaken. Hach organized being has in
concordance all that is necessary for its subsistence ; each
sreat change, in one organ, produces a change in others.
A bird is a bird in all and every part; it is the same with a
fish or aninsect. We cannot even conceive a being which,

¥
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BARON CUVIER. 81
having certain wants, has not the power of satisfymg
them; a being which could have a part of its organiza-
tion allied to another part, suited toa different being, an
intermediate being, in fact, that which is called a passage.

“ Hach being Is made for itself, and in itself is complete :
it may resemble other beings, each equally composed of what
is fit for it, but none can be composed with a view to another,
nor to join it to a third by affinity of form; and that which
is true of the least plant, of the least animal : that which is
true of the most perfect of animals, man ; of the little world,
as the ancient philosophers called it, is necessarily not the
less true of the great world, the globe, and all its inhabitants.
The beings which compose it, and which people it, contri-

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

“Where is, then, in the world, as in the body of man,
that which is necessary, and nothing more. What law
could have obliged the Creator unnecessarily to produce use-
less forms, merely to fill up the vacancies in a scale, which
is only a speculation of the mind, and which has no other
foundation than the beauty which some philosophers dis-
cover in it? But in every thing beauty consists in relative
fitness: the beauty of the world is formed by the happy
concourse of beings which compose it, in their mutual preser-
vation, and in that of the whole, and not in the facility
which a naturalist may find in arranging them into a
simple series.

“Nevertheless, to the hypothesis of a continued scale in
the forms of beings, other philosophers have added that in
which all beings are modifications of one only ; or, that they
have been produced successively, and by the developement
of one first germ; and it is on this that an identity of com-
position for all has been engrafted. . . This system (as it

82 MEMOIRS OF

now exists) seizes hold of some partial resemblances, with-
out having any regard to differences; it sees in the worm
the embryo of the vertebrated animal; in the vertebrated
animal with cold blood, the embryo a the animal with
warm blood; 1 thus makes one class spring from the other ;
they are but different ages of one only; and the whole of
animal life has the same phases as the most perfect indivi-
dual of its species. From this naturally arises the conse-
Sere that, taking the superior classesin an embryo state,

ve ought there to find the inferior parts, and that the com-
ition of all must be alike, except the greater or lesser de-
velopement of certain parts. But these affinities, which
offer something like plausibility when announced in general
terms, vanish.directly they are detailed, and a comparison
is made, point by point. There is not less hiatus in the
affinities of parts than in the scale of beings; in vain, in or-
der to escape conviction, arbitrary suppositions < are brought
forward in the overthrow of organs incompatible with the
links which attach them to the rest of the body ; in vain, as
a last resource, is figurative language (which no logic can
penetrate) made use of; they are obliged to confess that
certain parts, often numerous, are wanting in certain be-
ings, without any apparent reason for their absence, other
than because they did not agree with the whole of the be-
ing; and if in these pretended theories we seek a rational
and general basis, what is to be found except the supposi-
tion of a nature limited in her mode of action ?

“In fact, if we look back to the Author ofall things,
what other law could actuate him than the necessity of ac-
cording to each being, whose existence is to be continued,
the means of insuring ‘that existence; and why could he
not vary his materials and his instruments? Fixed laws ef
co-existence in organs were then necessary, but that was
all: for, to establish others, there must have been a want of
freedom in the action of the organizing principle, which we
have shown to be mere chimera. In vain do they have re-
course to that other axiom, of being obliged to make every
thing by the most simple means. Very far from its being
more simple to employ the same materials for different ob-
jects, itis easy to conceive some instances in which this me-
thod would have been the most complicated of all; and cer-

BARON CUVIER. 83

tainly nothing is less satisfactorily proved than this constant
simplicity of means. Beauty, richness, abundance, have
been the ways of the Creator, no less than simplicity.
“Whenever they who, in recent times, have sought to
give a new form to the metaphysical system of pantheism,
and which they have entitled ‘ Philosophy of Nature,’ have
adopted the two hypotheses of which we have just spoken,
they have added a third, quite of the same kind. Not only
each being, according to these, represents all others, but it
has a representation of itself in each of its parts. The head
is a complete body ; the skull, composed of vertebrae, is the
spine ; the nose is the thorax ; the mouth the abdomen ; the
upper jaw the arms, the wer the legs ; the teeth are fingers
or nails ; and in this thorax, in these four members, are to
be found the larynx, the ribs, the shoulder-blades, and the
basin, in a word, all the bones.

‘We comprehend, in fact, that those who admit but of
one single substance, of which every individual existence is
but a manifestation, would have pleasure in adopting the
idea that these manifestations succeed each other in a
regular and progressive order; that they all bear the im-
pression, and, in some measure, become the images of one
common type, or essential substance, and that each part,

each part of a part, not only represents the special whole
which contains it, but even the great whole which contains
allt6thers.... .

* We, however, conceive nature to be simply a production
of the Almighty, regulated by a wisdom, the laws of which
can ne be discovered by observation ; but we think that

these Jaws can only relate to the preservation and harmony
of the whole; that, consequently, all must be constituted in
amanner that contributes to this preservation and to this har-
mony, but we do not perceive any necessity for a scale of
beings, nor for a unity of composition, and we do not be-
heve ¢ even in the possibility of a successive appearance of
different forms; for it appears to us that, from the beginning,
diversity has been. necessary to that harmony, and that pre-
servation, the only ends which our reason can perceive in
the arrangement of the world.”

Besides the “ Dictionnaire des Sciences Naturelles,”
there was yet another work of the same kind to which M.

84 MEMOIRS OF

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

I shall confine myself to the extract of that part which
describes the lower order of animals, having already, when
mentioning other writings, had occasion to speak frequent-
ly of the higher classes. ‘A little above the sponges are
the monades, and other microscopic animals of a homoge-
neous substance, simple and uncertain in form, but which
move in water with greater or less rapidity. ‘The polypes
only exceed these by having an invariable figure, and
some distinct members round the mouth; several of them,
fixed to the solid masses which they themselves produce,
have no motion but in their members, and are incapable of
changing place. The radiata, or sea-nettles, ascend in or-
ganization, by having several ramifications of the intestinal

canal. ‘lhe echinodermes possess an envelope more. or
less hard, and their numerous members serve them for pro-
gressive motion. At this point the star form disappears,
and gives place to the symmetrical, where similar parts are
disposed along a line or axis. Almost ail of the most sim-
ple of these, the intestinal worms, live in other animals ;
they have neither members, nor heart, nor blood vessels ;
their body is elongated, and sometimes articulated.” 'T’o
these succeed insects, &c. &c. and the whole concludes
with a comparison between plants and animals.

It is not the just appreciation of Linneeus and Buffon
only that we owe to M. Cuvier: there is yet another cele-
brated writer, whose real value may be gathered from
his labours; and the profound learning evinced in the
notes to M. Lemaire’s edition of Pliny show, that M. Cu-
vier could make even his classical attainments serve the

BARON CUVIER. 85

science to which he was devoted. Pliny has frequently
been magnified into a great author concerning natural his-
tory, and his writings appealed to asa most indisputable
source of information. It seems, however, that he was
but a skilful compiler; he copied what cthers had said be-
fore ; he asserted many things from common report, and
could by no means be relied on with that security which
is due to the naturalist who describes from personal obser-
vation. Thus, although there is much in him to believe
and to admire, considerable caution is requisite in the study
of his pages; and it isa most important service rendered
to the inexperienced, to have identified the animals of Ph-
ny, to have shown how much is worthy of confidence, and
what should be rejected.

I am now about to notice a work of a very different cha-
racter from any which have hitherto been presented: it is
a very small duodecimo volume of eighty-nine pages, but
it is a gem which owes nothing of its lustre to its size, and
sparkles, amid other brilliants, from the exquisite feeling
which breathes in every line. It does not delight us by
the charms of its eloquence, so much as by placing M.
Cuvier before us as a moralist who derives his precepts
from that pure light which shines onall who seek it. The
subject is the distribution of the prizes founded by M. de
Montyon for virtuous actions. ‘This philanthropist had
spent a life of usefulness, and particularly sought to me-
liorate the condition of the lower classes, “that class of
beings, which,” to use M. Cuvier’s expressions, “he saw
exposed to poverty and disease ; forced to undergo severe
and painful, even dangerous and unhealthy labours ; al-
most entirely deprived of education ; particularly open to
the seductions of vice, the torrent of passions, and brutal
pleasures ; often obliged to listen to the suggestions of
want and hunger, and having no resource against these
temptations in mental acquirement, in the habit of reflec-
tion, in public esteem, in the hope of a better fate, or that
ease of circumstances, which in other conditions is acquir-
ed by labour and good conduct.”

M. de Montyon left legacies to hospitals; and thinking,
that after quitting these asylums in too weak a state to
work, the poor needed still further aid, he destined a cer-

| at

86 MEMOIRS OF

tain sum to this purpose. Besides this, he left funds for
pestowing prizes on those who invented machines to be
used in agriculture or mechanical arts, and also on any
one who should discover efficacious remedies for the diseases
which afflict humanity, or diminish the danger to which
workmen are exposed in carrying on several of their occu-
pations : he founded a third prize for books, which should
instruct the poor in moral conduct and proper deportment ;
and. lastly, he instituted that of virtue, exclusively in fa-
vour of the poorer classes. ‘This prize is annually bestow-
ed, and awarded by the Académie Frangaise. In 1829,
M. Cuvier was appointed, at the meeting of St. Louis, to
inform the public how the prizes had been bestowed ; and
his discourse on the subject forms the volume of which I
now speak.

In his introduction to the history of those who have ob-
tained the prizes, the author says, “ Let us first ask the
question, What is virtue? An ancient philosopher an-
swers, ‘ Remarkable and brilliant virtue is that which sup-
ports woe and labour, or which exposes itself to danger,
in order to be useful to others, and that without expecting
or desiring any recompense.’ ‘The philosopher has well
said that this is rare and brilliant virtue ; perhaps it is even
above humanity; but let us observe, that its two principal
characters are, usefulness to others, and perfect disinterest-
edness. But we will turn from pagan antiquity, open the
Gospel, and there seek an answer to the question propos-
ed. We read in the Holy Writings, ‘Love God above all
things, and your neighbour as yourselves: the law and
the prophets are contained in these two precepts.’ Thus,
he who has followed these precepts is virtuous; he will
have accomplished the entire law. Now, what is it to love
God? How can we prove that we love him? It is by
conforming to his will, by doing that which he orders;
and the first thing which he commands us to do, after loy-
ing him, is to love our neighbour as ourselves ; and our
neighbours are all men, without distinction or exception,
as the Gospel also teaches us in the parable of the Sama-
ritan. ‘This command, given us by God, has been ren-
dered easy and pleasing in execution by himself having
implanted in our souls, at our birth, a love for our neigh-

BARON CUVIER. 87

bours, a natural disposition to love our fellow-creatures, to
rejoice in their joy, and weep for their sorrows. ‘This sym-
pathy, this soothing feeling, which religion calls charity, is
to be found in all pure and unperverted hearts, though it
is not equally developed, equally energetic in all. We feel
that which we owe to each other, not only justice, but suc-
cour to the extent of our ability. Do not to others that
which you would not they should do unto you; and do to
others as you would they should do unto you. ‘These are
very simple rules, to be comprehended even by children,
and recognized by them as equitable and necessary ; they
are the foundation of all morality, and why are they not
always followed? It is because we are blinded by our pas-
sions, our inclinations, and our interests. We have just
said that God has given us the feeling of love towards
our neighbours, but he has also given us a love for our-
selves, for our own preservation ; this sentiment is not less
natural than the other, and is not wrong, because it is ne-
cessary ; it even teaches us several virtues, such as tempe-
rance for the sake ef health, prudence to avoid danger, and
courage for the means of extricating ourselves from diffi-
culty. God tells us to love our neighbour as ourselves, that
is, to tell us to love ourselves; but when this love of self is
carried to excess, then it is that it merits the odious appella-
tion of egotism; then it prompts us to sacrifice others to
ourselves, to wish to enrich ourselves by their losses, to
reckon others as nothing when our own satisfaction is con-
cerned; then does it become a guilty feeling; then does it
lead us to injustice and crime. It is even sad and foolish
to love ourselves only ; and if we have never done any
thing for others, how can we expect gratitude and help
from them? ‘C’est n’étre bon a rien, de n’étre bon qu’a
soi.* He who stifles in himself the feeling of compassion,
and only obeys the dictates of self-love, is a dangerous be-
ing in society, and who ought to be reproved and punished
in society at least by contempt. We may say, that almost
all the evil we commit arises from egotism; whilst the
greater part of our good actions is inspired by love for
our fellow-creatures. ‘Therefore, the best system of educa-

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

88 MEMOIRS OF

tion is that which teaches us to direct and control our self-
love within its just limits, and, at the same time, tends to
develope and augment our love for others, our desire of be-
ing useful, and doing them good. ‘These reflections lead
us back to M. de Montyon, who, always animated by this
desire, wished to render all men wiser, better, and happier.
It was with this intention that he founded the prizes of virtue,
the distribution of which has been confided to the Académie
Francaise, and this is the tenth time of fulfilling this honoura-
ble mission. ... But the liberality of M. de Montyon, though
great, must be limited ; and a choice must be made among:
those who are presented to us, each with the strongest
claims. It may be imagined how difficult itis to make
this choice; how painful, and even afflicting, it is to the
judges to be obliged to compare and coolly weigh actions
which amount to sublimity ; and, while animated to en-
thusiasm, or moved almost to weakness, thus impartially
and calmly to pronounce judgment. Besides, what mar
can flatter himself that he can be exempt from error in
such decisions? God alone is the judge of virtue, because
he alone can read our hearts, penetrate into our motives,
and know our intentions: God alone gives to virtue its
real reward. We can only see the exterior, and presume
on the motives, which we are bound to consider as pure
and upright, when the actions bear the appearance of dis-
interestedness and goodness.”

Thus far I have attempted, by translation, to give some
idea of this beautiful little volume: but as the account of M.
Cuvier’s works draws near to the close, it will be desirable,
occasionally, to give specimens of his style, by extracts from
the French ;.and having thus stated the motive, these pas-
sages will be introduced whenever they seem to me to be
best calculated for displaying his powers. ‘The following is
selected from the “ Prix de Vertu: ” “——“ Nous avons a ra-

*We have now to recount the good deeds of fifteen other persons, to
whomthe Academy has decreed medals; but as we commence these reci-
tals, a fear assails us of fatiguing our readers by monotony, by want of
variety. ‘These histories are all alike ; it is always charity, always bene-
volence, always a disinterested devotion to the cause of the unfortunate.
These we must for ever praise, for ever admire ; and thisis not the way to
rouse or to fix attention. Kulogium fatigues or sends us to sleep, and am

BARON CUVIER., 89

conter les bonnes actions de quinze autres personnes, aux-
quelles ’académie a décerné des médailles ; au moment de
commencer ces récits, nous éprouvons une crainte, celle
de fatiguer nos lecteurs par la monotonie, et le défaut de va-
rlété, ces récits vont se ressembler entre eux; ce sera tou-
jours de la charité, toujours de la bienfaisance, toujours un
devotiment désintéressé aux infortunes d’autrui; et puis, il
faudra toujours louer, toujours admirer: ce n’est pas le mo-
yen de reveiller et de soutenir attention ; ’éloge nous fa-
tigue ou nous endort; un écrivain Anglais dit spirituelle-
ment, que tous les panégyriques semblent confits dans du
jus des pavots. Eh bien! nous nous abstiendrons de dire
un seul mot qui pourrait sembler destiné a faire valoir des
actions si touchantes; elles se recommandent assez par elles-
mémes; et ceux qui auraient le malheur de n’en Gtre pas
attendris, ne seraient pas méme en état de comprendre les
éloges que nous pourrions y ajouter.”

One of the great prizes awarded on this occasion was five
thousand francs to Louise Scheppler, whose history will, if
I mistake not, be acceptable to the reader, as given by the
Baron Cuvier. ‘Louise Scheppler has, perhaps, carried this
industrious beneficence still farther, for it is not one family,
_it is an entire country which enjoys the fruits of her benevo-
lence ; a whole country which has been vivified by the cha-
rity of a poor servant. In the rudest part of the chain of
the Vosges mountains is a valley, almost separated from the
rest of the world. Sixty years back it afforded but scanty
nourishment to a half-civilized population, consisting of only
eighty families, distributed in five villages. "Their igno-
rance and their poverty were equally great ; they neither un-
derstood German nor French ; a patois, unintelligible to any
but themselves, was their sole language ; and, what is scarce-
ly credible, their misery had not softened their manners.
‘These peasants, like the lords of the middle ages, governed
by force, hereditary feuds divided families, and more than

English writer wittily says, that all panegyrics seem to have been cooked
in poppy juice. We however will abstain from saying a single word which
may appear to be given for the purpose of impressing these affecting cir-
cumstances. Still more forcibly do they carry their own recommendation
with them ; and those who are so unhappy as not tofeel them, will not be
capable of comprehending any eulogiums which we could add to them.

H *

as

90 MEMOIRS GF

otice gave rise to acts of criminal violence. A pious pastor,
named John Frederick Oberlin, who has since become so
celebrated undertook to civilize them ; and for this purpose,
like oné who knew mankind, he first attacked their pover-
ty. With his own hands he set the example for all useful
labours, and, armed with a pickaxe, he directed them in the
construction of a good road, digging and labouring with
them; he taught them to cultivate the potatoe; he made
them acquainted with good vegetables and fruits; showed
them how to engraft, and gave them excellent breeds of
cattle and poultry. Their agriculture once perfected, he
introduced manufactures among them, in order to employ
superfluous hands; he gave them a saving-bank, and put
them in communication with the commercial houses of the
neighbouring towns. As their confidence increased with
their improvement, he, by degrees, gave them instruction
of a higher nature. He himself was their schoolmaster,
till he could form one capable of seconding his endeavours.
Having once learned to love reading, every thing became
easier; chosen works were brought to them to aid the con-
versation and example of the pastor ; religious feelings, and,
with them, mutual benevolence, insinuated themselves into
their hearts; quarrels, crimes, and lawsuits disappeared;
and, if by chance, some dispute arose, they, with one accord,
came to Oberlin, and begged him to put an end to it. In
short, when this venerable man was nearly at the end of his
career, he was able to say, that in this province, once so
poor and thinly populated, he left three hundred families,
regular in their habits, pious and enlightened in their sen-
timents, enjoying remarkable ease of circumstances, and
provided with the means of perpetuating these blessings.
A young female peasant from one of these villages, named
Louise Scheppler, though scarcely fifteen years of age, was
so forcibly impressed with the virtues of this man of God,
that, although she enjoyed asmall patrimony, she begged to
enter into his service, and take a part in his charitable la-
bours. Irom that time she never accepted any wages ; she
never quitted him ; she became his help, his messenger, and
the guardian angel of the rudest huts. She afforded the
inhabitants every species of consolation ; and in no instance
can we find a finer example of the power of feeling to exalt

BARON CUVIER. 91

the intelligence. This simple village girl entered into the
elevated views of her master. even astonishing him by her
happy suggestions, which he unhesitatingly adopted in his
general plan of operation. She it was who remarked the
difficulty that the labourers in the fields experienced, in
combining their agricultural employments with the care of
their younger children, and who thought of collecting to-
gether, even infants of the earliest age in spacious halls,
where, during the absence of their parents, some intelligent
instructresses should take care of, amuse, teach them their
letters, and exercise them in employments adapted to their
ages. From this institution of Louise Scheppler arose the in-
fant schools of England and France, where the children
of the working classes, who would otherwise be exposed to
accidents and vicious examples, are watched over, instruct-
ed, and protected. ‘I'he honour of an idea which has pro-
duced such beautiful results is solely due to this poor
peasant of Ban de la Roche; to this she consecrated all
her worldly means, and, what are of more value, her youth
and her health. Even now, though advanced in years,
she, without receiving the smallest compensation, assem-
bles a hundred children round her, from three to seven
years of age, and instructs them according to their capaci-
ties. ‘The adults, thanks to M. Oberlin, have no further
moral wants ; but there are yet some, who in sickness or
old age have need of physicial aid. Louise Scheppler
watches over them, carries them broth, medicine, in short,
every thing, not forgetting pecuniary succour. She has
founded and regulated a sort of Mont de Piété,* of a pe-
culiar kind, which would be an admirable institution else-
where, if it could be multiplied like the infant schools ; for
it is among the very small number of those which merit
the name given to them, for money is there lent without
interest and without securities. When M. Oberlin died, he,
by will, left Louise Scheppler to his children ; the simple
words of a dying master may be heard with interest, and
will be more eloquent than any thing we can add:—<‘I

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

G2 MEMOIRS OF

leave my faithful nurse to you, my dear children, she who
has reared you, the indefatigable Louise Scheppler ; to you
also she has been a careful nurse, to you a faithful mother
and instructress; in short, every thing: her zeal has ex-
tended still further ; for, like a true apostle of the Lord, she
has gone to the villages where I have sent her, to gather
the children round her, to instruct them in the will of God,
to sing hymns, to show them the works of their all- power-
ful and paternal Maker, to pray with them, to communicate
to them all the instr uctions she had received from me and
your own excellent mother. ‘The innumerable difficulties
she met with in these holy occupations would have discour-
aged a thousand others ; the surly tempers of the children,
their patois language, bad roads, inclement weather, rocks,
water, heavy rain, freezing winds, hail, deep snow, nothing
has daunted her. She has sacrificed her time and her per-
son to the service of God. Judge, my dear children, of the
debt you have contracted to her for my sake. Once more,
I bequeath her to you; let her see, by your cares, the re-
spect you feel towards the last will of a father, —I am sure
you will fulfil my wishes, you will mm your turn be to her
all together, and each individually, that which she has been
to you.’ Messicurs and Mesdemoiselles Oberlin, faithful to
the wishes of their father, were desirous of bestowing on
Louise the inheritance of a daughter; but nothing could
induce this generous woman to lessen the small patrimony
left by her master; and all she asked was, permission to
add the name of Oberlin to her own. ‘Those who claim
this honourable appellation as a birthright, think themselves
still farther honoured by her sharing the title.”

In his office of Secretary to the Academy of Sciences, it
was also the duty of M. Cuvier to read an éloge upon the
deceased members of that body before a public meeting.
As his peculiar department did not extend to the calcuiat-
ing sciences, the labours of those who devoted themselves
to such devolved upon the other secretary ; but all the élo-
ges written by M. Cuvier have been collected at various
times, and published in successive volumes. Before I give
an account of them, a few remarks upon his delivery may
be desirable. The very slight accent of Montbéliard which
might be traced in his conversation, entirely disappeared

BARON CUVIER. 93

while reading or speaking in public ; his voice could be
heard every where without being pitched in too elevated a
key, his articulation was remarkably clear and distinct with-
out being affected, so that foreigners found it easier to com-
prehend him than most of the French orators, and there
was a tone of feeling, a certain play of countenance, which
carried his auditors with him in all the sentiments he tried
to inspire. ‘There was nothing in the least declamatory or
theatrical, in order to arrest the attention ; but his melodi-
ous tones, his elegant turn of expression, and natural grace
of manner, gave a charm to the shortest phrases. ‘These
last perfecticns were so much the more remarkable, as em-
phasis was the fashion in academical discourses when he
commenced his career, and it was like creating a new school
to return to nature.

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

* “ Jeté faible et nu a la surface du globe, Vhomme pa-

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

No sooner had the genius of man ascertained that it was possible to
combat nature by her own means, than it no longer rested; it watched her
incessantly, and continually gained new conquests over her, each marked
by some melioration in the state of society. Then succeeded, without
interruption, those’meditating minds, which, being the faithful depositaries
of acquired doctrines, were constantly occupied in connecting them, in
vivifying the one by the help of the other, and which have led us, in less

94 MEMOIRS OF

raissait crée pour une déstruction inévitable : les maux l’as-
saillaient de toute parte, les remédes lui restaient cachés ;
mais il avoit recu le génie pour les découvrir. Les pre-
miérs sauveges cueillirent dans les foréts quelques fruits
nourriciers, quelques racines salutaires, et subvinrent ainsi a
leurs plus pressans besoins : les premiers patres s’apercurent
que les astres suivent une marche reglée, et s’en servirent
pour diriger leurs courses a travers les plaines du désert.
Telle fut ’origine des sciences mathématiques, et celle des
sciences physiques.

“Une fois assuré qu'il pouvait combattre la nature par
elleeméme, le génie ne se reposa plus ; il ?épia sans relache,
sans cesse il fit sur elle de nouvelles conquétes, toutes mar-
quées par quelque amélioration dans l'état des peuples. Se
succédant dés-lors, sans interruption, des esprits méditatifs,
dépositaires fidéles des doctrines acquises, constamment oc-
cupés de les lier, de les vivifier, les unes par les autres, nous
ont conduits, en moins de quarante siécles, des premiers es-
sais de ces observateurs agrestes aux profonds calculs des
Newton et des Laplace, aux énumérations savantes des
Linneeus et des Jussieu. Ce précieux héritage, toujours
accru, porté de la Chaldée en Egypte, de ’Kgypte dans la
Gréce, caché pendant les siécles de malheur et de téné-
bres, recouvré a des époques plus heureuses, inégalement
répandu parmi les peuples de l’Europe, a été suivi partout
de la richesse et du pouvoir; les nations qui V’ont recueilli
sont devenues les maitresses du monde; celles qui l’ont
négligé sont tombées dans la faiblesse et dans l’obscurité.”

The first éloge was read on the 5th of April, 1800, and
is that of the venerable Daubenton, who it will be recol-
lected, was the colleague of M. de Buffon, born in the same
town with him, and chosen by him to aid his scientific la-
bours. ‘The reasons of this choice are given by M. Cuvier,
who first describes Buffon as a man of independent fortune,
whose personal and mental attractions, and violent thirst for

than forty centuries, from the first attempts of these pastoral observers, to
the profound calculations of Newton and Laplace, to the learned enumera-
tions of Linnzeus and Jussieu. This precious inheritance, always aug-
menting, borne from Chaldea toEgypt, from Egypt to Greece, hidden dur-
ing ages of misery and darkness, unequally spread among the people of
Europe, has been every where followed by riches and power; the nations
who have weleomed it, have become mistresses of the world, and those
who have neglected it have fallen into feebleness and obscurity.

BARON CUVIER. Q5

pleasure, seemed to cast his destiny in any other mould than
that of science, but who nevertheless found himself irresisti-
bly drawn towards it, the surest sign of his extraordinary
talents. Long uncertain to what object he should devote
his genius, he tried several pursuits, and at length fixed on
natural history. From the first he measured it in its whole
extent ; he, at one glance, perceived what he had to do ;
what was in his own power to effect, and in what he required
assistance. I would fain quote all that M. Cuvier says of
his predecessor ; but a few of the leading points of the dif-
ferent éloges are all that can be offered here, in order to
give an idea of their nature, their variety, and their beauty.
Continuing to speak of M. de Buffon, M. Cuvier states,
that, gifted with the most ardent imagination, and possess-
ing a pen that was the echo of that imagination, viewing
nature in all its activity and freshness, and deeply impress-
ed with it as a whole system of beauty and order, he re-
quired some one to inspect the details, some one who was
gifted with the power of patient investigation, some one
whose love of justice and calm tone of mind would form a
sort of counter-balance to his ardour, some one equally de-
voted to the cause, but at the same time modest enough to
play a secondary part, and leave him in possession of the
brilhant fame he coveted. ‘These requisites were all centred
in Daubenton, the companion of his youth. Both morally
and physically there was the strongest contrast between the
two friends, and each was possessed of those qualities which
were necessary to moderate and improve the other. Button,
commanding every thing, eager for immediate results, and
imperious by nature, was desirous of divining the truth, not
of reaching it by patient investigation. His imagination at
every instant placed itself between him and nature, and his
eloquence seemed to wrestle with his reason before he em-
ployed it in captivating others. Daubenton, delicate in
constitution, moderate by nature as well as reason, pursued
his researches with the most scrupulous circumspection ; he
only believed and affirmed that which he had seen and
iouched, and far, very far, from wishing to persuade by
other means than facts, he carefully avoided, both in his
writings and discourse, every figure of speech, and every
fascinating expression. Unalterable in patience, he was

96 MEMOIRS OF

never annoyed at delay; he recommenced the same labour
over and over again, until he had succeeded to his satisfac-
tion; and the method of his proceedings, while it seemed to
call into use every mental resource, seemed to impose silence
on his imagination. When Buffon first attached him to
the Jardin des Plantes, he thought he had found a labo-
rious aid, who would smooth the ruggedness of his path ;
but he found much more, for Daubenton was a faithful
suide, who pointed out to him the hidden dangers and pre-
cipices of that path. Many times did the sly smile of Dau-
benton, when he conceived a doubt, induce Buffon to recon-
sider his ideas. Many times did one of those words, which
this friend knew so well where to place, stop him in his
precipitous career; and the wisdom and prudent reserve of
the one, uniting themselves to the force and rapidity of the
other, gave to the “ Histoire des Quadrupédes,” the only
work common to both, that perfection which makes it the
mest interesting part of the great Natural History of Buffon,
It is more exempt from errors than the rest, and will long
remain a classical book among naturalists. Daubenton was
appointed “ Demonstrateur du Cabinet d’Histoire Naturelle,”
and his salary was gradually augmented from five hundred
francs to four thousand; he was lodged at Buffon’s, and
nothing was neglected which could ensure him that ease of
circumstances which is necessary to every man of letters,
every savant who would be wholly devoted to science. Dau-
benton, on his side, amply repaid these kindnesses by unremit-
ting obedience to the views of his benefactor, and, at the same
time, erected a monument to his own glory. Before the time
of Daubenton, the Museum of Natural History was a mere
cabinet, and, strictly speaking, only contained the shells col-
lected by Tournefort for theamusement of Louis X.V., when
young. Ina very few years, the whole face was changed.
Minerals, fruits, woods, and shells were brought from every
quarter and exposed in the most beautiful order; means
were taken for discovering the best modes of preserving dif-
ferent parts of organized beings; and the inanimate remains
of birds and quadrupeds re-assumed the appearance of life,
presenting the slightest details of character to the attentive
observer, while they astonished the curious by the variety of
their forms and the brilliancy of their colours. Daubentor

BARON CUVIER. 9

conceived a vast plan, and, supported by Buffon, profited by
the means his credit afforded. No production of nature was
excluded from this temple, and a number of anatomical pre-
parations were collected, which, though less agreeable to the
eye, were not less useful to the person who did not limit his
researches to the exterior of created beings; who endeavour-
ed to make a philosophical science of natural history, and
to force it to explain itsown phenomena. ‘The study and
arrangement of these objects became a real passion for Dau-
benton; he shut himself up for whole days in the Museum ;
he arranged the objects ina thousand different ways; he
scrupulously examined all their parts; and he tried every
possible arrangement until he found that which neither
offended the eye nor natural affinities. Thus it is principally
to Daubenton that France owes the magnificent museum
of the Jardin des Plantes, where we must be struck with the
unwearied patience of the man who amassed all these trea-
sures, named them, classed them, displayed their affinities,
described their parts, and explained their properties.* A
monument equally glorious to the memory of Daubenton is
the complete description of this museum, though circum-
stances prevented him fromecarrying it farther than the
quadrupeds. Reaumur, who had till then swayed the
sceptre of natural history, and whose “ Memoirson Insects”
are clear, elegant, and highly interesting, jealous of the in-
creasing fame of the two great naturalists, not only attacked
Buffon but his friend, whom he considered as the solid sup-
porter of his brilliant rival. Quarrels even took place in the
Academy, and M. de Buffon was obliged to tax the good
offices of Madame de Pompadour, in order to preserve Dauben-
ton in the rank which was due to his labours. At length the
insinuations of their enemies seemed to take effect, and even

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

I

9S MEMOIRS OF

Buffon began to think, that it would be more advaniageous
for himself to publish his “ Histoire Naturelle,” in thirteen
volumes duodecimo, taking away not only the anatomical
parts but the external descriptions ; and he also determined
to appear alone before the public when treating of birds and
minerals. To act thus was not only to wound Daubenton’s
feelings, but to injure him in a pecuniary sense. He might,
with reason, have pleaded that it was an enterprize common
to both ; but had he asserted his right, he must have quar-
relled with the director of the Jardin ; he must have quitted
the scenes he had, as it were, created, and which were in-
separable from his existence. He therefore passed over the
loss and the affront, and continued his labours, in a measure
consoled by the regret expressed by all naturalists, when they
saw the History of Birds appear without his exact des scrip-
tion. It is worthy cf mention, that to such a degree did he
carry his spirit of forgiveness, that he afterwards contributed
some parts to the “ Histoire Naturelle,” although his name
was never again attached to the work. His intimacy with
his friend was also renewed, and continued unbroken till
the death of Buffon.

The efforts of Daubenton were far from being confined
to the above-mentioned pursuits, and one of the other ob-
jects of his endeavours was an attempt to improve the wool
of France, by which means he obtained a popularity which
was very useful to him before the Assembly of the Sans
Culottes. A certificate of civism was necessary for his per-

sonal safety at that stormy period, to obtain which, his titles
of Professor and Academician were of little avail; he was at
length presented under the title of Shepherd, and in. this
character he protected the savant. ‘T'he curious document
of this transaction is still in existence.

In 1773, M. Daubenton obtained permission for one of
the professorships of the Collége de France to be changed
into a chair of Natural History, and also that lectures should
be given at the Museum. It.was an affecting sight to be-
hold this old man encircled by his disciples, who received his
words with a religious attention, a veneration which con-
verted them into so many oracles; to hear his weak and
trembling voice gradually assume its wonted force and
energy, when he tried to inculcate some of those great prin-

BARON CUVIER. 99

ciples to which his meditations had given birth, or to deve-
lope some useful and important truth. He forgot his years
and his weakness when he could be useful to young people,
or when he performed his duties. When made a senator,
one of his colleagues offered to help him, by giving lectures
for him. ‘My friend,” he answered, “I cannot be better
replaced than by you, and when age forces me to resign my
duties, be sure that I shall burthen you with them ;” he was
then eighty-three. When thus appointed, he tried to fill his
new station as he had done all others; but in order to do
this he was obliged to change his manner of living, the
regularity of which had, perhaps, contributed to its long con-
tinuance. ‘I'he season was very severe ; and the first time
he assisted at the meetings of the body to which he was just
elected, he was struck with apoplexy, and fell senseless into
the arms of his colleagues. The promptest aid could only
restore him to life for a few minutes, during which he
evinced that desire calmly to watch the operations of nature
which had hitherto marked his character. He touched the
different parts of his body which were affected, pointed out
the progress of the paralysis to his attendants, and expired at
the age of eighty-four, without suffering ; so that it may be
said of him, that he attained, if not the most brilliant, the
most perfect happiness for which man is permitted to hope.

Although confining myself to the principal features of
the above éloge, I have dwelt on it much longer than will
be advisable for the others. ‘lwo reasons have induced
this ; and the first is, the circumstance of its being one of
the earliest of M. Cuvier’s productions which was read in
presence of the Emperor, on whom it made a great im-
pression. ‘I'he natural style in which it was written, the
natural tone in which it was read, amid the reigning aftec-
tation, produced the happiest effect; and it was of this
that M. D , celebrated for his apt remarks, observed,
“At last we have a secretary who knows how to read
and write.” The second reason is, that it may be offered
as a proof of the innate excellence of M. Cuvier’s judg-
ment; it is not the work of a man whose reason was ma-
tured by long years of study, whose feelings have been
rendered impartial by age ; but it was written when the
fire of youth is generally apt to be dazzled by some fa-

100 MEMOIRS OF

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

Although a shorter notice will suffice for the other éloges,
it will be necessary to mention them all, in order to show
the variety of the subject, and occasionally to introduce an
original passage, not as a better specimen of style than
could be found elsewhere, but as combining beauty with
general interest. M. Lemonnier, the subject of the second,
was head physician to Louis XVI., and a botanist ; he
spent the greater part of his life in trying to introduce use-
ful plants and trees into France ; he solaced the poor, and
received no reward from them; he courageously visited
his unfortunate master when in prison, and, at eighty-two
years of age, died at the herb shop which he had established
in order to obtain a livelihood, but where he had been
watched over by his nieces with the most devoted attach-
ment, and visited by his friends, who thought his old age
rendered doubly honourable by this independent mode of
existence.

M. l’Héritier was also a botanist, but of another descrip-
tion, being a strict follower of the system and nomencla-
ture of Linneus. A curious anecdote, related in this éloge,
forcibly developes the character of the man, and at the
same time shows the relation he had with England. Al-
ways seeking after fresh acquisitions in his favourite science,

BARON CUVIER. 101

aud delighting in a knowledge of foreign plants, he heard
that Dombey had returned from Peru and Chili with an
immense collection, for the publication of which he had
long sought the necessary funds. L/Heéritier obtained the
herbarium from Dombey, allowed him an annual pension,
and from that moment no bounds were set to his zeal ;
painters and engravers were employed, and the work was
far advanced, when he received intelligence, that the Span-
iards who had accompanied Dombey demanded of the
French government that his botany should not be publish-
ed before theirs, and, consequently, that the herbarium
should be restored to Dombey. ‘The order for this restora-
tion was expected the next day, when L’Héritier, consulting
only his friend, M. Broussonet, sent for twenty or thirty
packers, and the night was passed in making cases. L’HE-
ritier, his wife, and MM. Broussonet and Redoute, packed
the herbarium: early the next morning the former posted
off to Calais with his treasure, nor rested till he was safe
on the English soil. He passed fifteen months there in
the most perfect retirement, and was delighted with the
kindness he received. The library and collections of Sir
Joseph Banks, the herbarium of Linneus, then in the
possession of Sir J. E. Smith, besides the acquisitions of
other botanists, were all open to him, and he there finished
his manuscript. The plates were most of them completed
when he returned to France; but political circumstances,
and the duties he was called on to perform as a citizen,
prevented the appearance of this great work. ‘The same
zeai and activity, united to a most conscientious fulfilment
of the labours allotted to him, distinguished him as a
magistrate ; but neither public nor private virtues could
save him from the hand of the assassin. Returning home
late one evening from the Institute, he received “several
stabs from a sword, and was found dead, the next morning,
a few paces from his own door.

M. Gilbert was chiefly celebrated as an agriculturist ; and
he it was who was sent to Spain by the government of
France, to procure those beautiful breeds of sheep from that
country which had caused such improvements in the Eng-
lish wool. ‘This excellent man’s character may be compre-
hended, when it is known that a friend of his being suspected,

*

I

102 MEMOIRS OF

and consequently imprisoned, during the revolution of 1793,
he every month carried to the wife of the sufferer the half
of his own income, leading her to suppose that the money
came from her husband, in order to prevent her from being
aware of the destitute state into which she was plunged, or
the danger incurred by one so dear. Full of hope, M.
Gilbert started on his mission to Spain with the most en-
thusiastic pleasure, little foreseeing the obstacles and diffi-
culties he should encounter. Badly supported by his go-
vernment. at times wholly neglected, he for two years was
unable even to make the proper purchases, and at length
was obliged to pledge his own property in order to extricate
himself from the embarrassments caused by the conduct of
those in whose promises he had confided. He had flatter-
ed himself that all would have been completed in three
months, but after two years of painful travelling, incredi-
ble fatigue, opposition, and even humiliation of every kind,
the flock he had assembled was scarcely by one-third equal
to what it ought to have been. His bodily strength at last
yielded to all these sufferings, and he was carried off by a
malignant fever, after an illness of nine days.

Darcet, the confidential friend of Montesquieu, his
assistant in collecting and arranging the immense mate-
rials for the “ Esprit des Loix,” and the preceptor of the
young Montesquieu, never lost sight of his chemical re-
searches amid these duties, and he discovered and caused
the execution of wonderful improvements in the porcelain
of France.

The history of Dr. Priestley is too well known to need
much detail here; but as it is one of the most beautiful
pieces of biography which has emanated from the pen of
M. Cuvier, I shall cite a passage, in his own words, con-
cerning the labours of this great chemist and natural phi-
losopher. “ Priestley, comblé de gloire, s’étonnait modeste-
ment de son bonheur, et de cette multitude de beaux faits
que la nature semblait n’avoir voulu révéler qu’a lui seul.
Il oubliait que ses faveurs n’étaient pas gratuites, et que si
elle s’était si bien expliquée, c’est qu’il avait su l’y contrain-
dre par une perséverance infatigable 4 Vinterroger, et par
raille moyens ingeéniewx de lui arracher des réponses.

“ Les autres cachent soigneusement ce qu’ils doivent au,

BARON CUVIER. 103

hasard; Priestley semble vouloir lui tout accorder: il re-
marque, avec une candeur unique, combien de fois il en fut
servi sans s’en apercevoir, combien de fois il posséda des sub-
stances nouvelles sans les distinguer ; et jamais il ne dissi-
mule les vues erronées qui le dirigérent quelquefois, et dont
il ne fut désabusé que par lexpérience. Ces aveux firent
’honneur a sa modestie sans désarmer la jalousie. Ceux
a qui leurs vues et leurs méthodes n’avaient jamais rien
fait découvrir, lappelaient un simple faiseur des expe-
riences, sans méthode et sans vues: ‘il n’est pas €tonnant,’
ajoutaient-ils, ‘que, dans tant d’essais et de combinai-
sons, il s’en trouve quelques-uns d’heurenx.’ Mais les veé-
ritables physiciens ne furent point dupes de ces critiques
intéressées.”*

There is yet another passage, which, while it so ably
pleads the cause of Priestley, places M. Cuvier’s candour in
so conspicuous a light, that I shall make no apology for intro-
ducing it, though it will not be necessary to give it in French.
“Tam now, Messieurs, arrived at the most painful part of
my task. You have just seen Priestley successfully pro-
gressing in the study of human science, to which he never-
theless consecrated but a few of his leisure moments. I
must now present him to you in another light, wrestling
against the nature of those things which are hidden from
our reason by an impenetrable veil, trying to submit the

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

Others carefully hide that which they owe to chance; Priestley seem-~
ed to wish to ascribe all his merit to fortuitous circumstances, remarking,
with unexampled candour, how many times he had profited by them,
without knowing it, how many times he was in possession of new sub-
stances without “having perceived them; and he never dissimulated the
erroneous views which sometimes directed his efforts, and from which he
was only undeceived by experience. These confessions did honour to
his modesty, without disarming jealousy. Those to whom their own
ways and methods had never discovered any thing called him a simple
worker of experiments, without method and without an object “it 1s not
astonishing,” they added, “that among so many trials and combinations,
he should find some that were fortunate.” But real natural philosophera
were not duped by these selfish criticisms.

104 MEMOIRS OF

world to his conjectures, consuming almost all his life in
these vain efforts, and at length plunging himself into an
abyss of misery. Here, like himself, I have need of all your
indulgence ; perhaps the details into which I am about to
enter will, to some, appear foreign to the place in which I
speak, but it is here, I think, that the terrible example they
give ought to be heard with the greatest interest. I have
already told you that Priestley was a minister of religion,
and I am forced to add, that he professed four different creeds
before he could decide on teaching one of them in his public
capacity. Brought up in all the severity of the presbyterian
faith, which we call Calvinistic, and in all the bitterness
of predestination, such as Gomar taught it, he scarcely be-
gan to reflect, before he turned to the milder doctrine of Ar-
minius. But, as he advanced, he always seemed to find
too much to believe: he therefore adopted the tenets of the
Arians, who, after having invaded Christianity from the
time of the successors of Constantine, have now no other
asylum than in Eingiand, but whose faith is decorated by
the names of Milton, Clarke, and Locke, and even, as re-
port says, that of Newton, and whose reputations, in some
measure, repair the loss of former power.

“Arianism, while it declares Christ to be a creature, be-
lieves him, nevertheless, to be a being of a superior nature,
produced before the world, and the organ of the Creator m
the production of other beings. "This is the doctrine clothed
in the magnificent poetry of the Paradise Lost. After hav-
ing long professed this, Priestley abandoned it, in order to
become a Unitarian, or that which we call Socinian.
There are few, perhaps, among those who now hear me,
who have ever informed themselves in what these two sects
differ. It is, that the Socinians deny the pre-existence of
Christ, and only look upon him as a man, though they re-
vere in him the Saviour of the world; and they acknow-
ledge that the Divinity was united to him, in order to effect
this great work. This subtle shade between two heresies,
for thirty years occupied that head which was required for
the most important questions of science, and, without com-

BARON CUVIER. 105

mated his whole life, the improper control of which had
been the foundation ofall his errors. He caused the Gospel
to be read by him, and thanked God for having allowed
him to lead a useful life, and granted him a peaceful death.
Among the list of his principal blessings, he ranked that of
having personally known almost all his contemporaries. ‘I
am going to sleep, as you do,’ said he to his grandchildren,
who were brought to him, ‘but we shall wake again toge-
ther, and, I hope, to eternal happiness;’ thus evincing in
what belief he died. ‘These were his last words ; such was
the end of that man, whom his enemies accused of wishing
to overthrow all morality and religion, and, nevertheless,
whose greatest error was to mistake his vocation, and to at-
tach too much importance to his individual sentiments, in
matters where the most important of all feelings ought to be
the love of peace.”

The subject of the succeeding éloge, M. Cels, was a prac-
tical botanist and scientific agriculturist, to whom Paris owes
the celebrated garden which bears his name: from him ema-
nated some excellent laws on agricultural interests.

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

M. Broussonet, Professor of Botany to the School of Me-
dicine at Montpelier, was calied to the Institute by the sec-
tion of zoology and anatomy, and after publishing several
works on zoology, and passing a life of dangers and un-
heard-of escapes, died of a coup de soleil.

M. Lassus was a surgeon, and though generally skilful
in his profession, was so unfortunate as to bleed a royal
patient twice without success, The outcry was universal.
Une princesse piquée deux fois, et quin’a pas saigné—

106 MEMOIRS OF

quel accident effroyable!” said the courtiers; the physicians
shook their heads with a mysterious look ; but the princess,
being more generous, procured M. Lassus a situation in
place of that from which she had been obliged to dismiss
him in her household, and by so doing, secured a merito-
rious and devoted servant, both to herself and the public.
With her and her sister he travelled over Italy, at the time
of the great revolution ; and by producing his port-folios as
proofs that he had enriched his country with useful infor-
mation, evaded the law against emigrants, which would
have been enforced against him on his return, and was ap-
pointed to the medical school at Paris.

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

The name of De Saussure will ever be dear to geologists ;
and with his éloge, and that of his uncle, M. Bonnet, the
naturalist of Geneva, the first volume closes. In this com-
bined éloge is a passage in which M. Cuvier’s talents for de-
scription show themselves ; and as it is almost an isolated in-
stance in his published writings, I here quote it :—‘* Comme
le voyageur est ravi d’admiration, lorsque, dans un beau
jour d’été’, apres avoir péniblement traversé les sommets —
du Jura il arrive a cette gorge, ot se deploie subitement
devant lui immense bassin de Genéve, qu'il voit d’un coup
d’oil ce beau lac dont les eaux réfléchissent le bleu du ciel,
mais plus pur et plus profond; cette vaste campagne, si bien
cultivée, peuplée d’habitations si riantes; ces cOteaux qui
s’elévent par degrés et que revét une si riche végétation,
ces montagnes couvertes de foréts toujours vertes ; la créte
sourcilleuse des Hautes Alpes, ceignant ce superbe amphi-
théatre, et le Mont Blanc, ce géant des montagnes Eu-
ropéennes, le couronnant de cette immense groupe de neiges,
ou la disposition des masses et opposition des lumiéres et
des ombres, produisent un effet qu’aucune expression ne peut
faire concevoir a celui qui ne l’a pas vu.

“Kit ce beau pays, si propre a frapper l’imagination, a
nourrir le talent du poéte ot de Vartiste, lest, peut-étre, en-
core d’avantage a reveiller la curiosité du philosophe, a ex-
citer les recherches du physicien. C’est vraiment la que la

BARON CUVIER. 107

nature semble vouloir se montrer par un plus ¢rand nom-
bre de faces.

“Les plantes les plus rares, depuis celles des pays tem-
pérés jusqu’a celles de la Zone Glaciale, n’y coftent
que quelques pas au botaniste; le zoologiste peut y pour-
suivre des insectes aussi variés que la végétation qui les
nourrit; le lac y forme pour le physicien une sorte de mer,
par sa profondeur, par son étendue et méme par la violence
de ses mouvemens; le géologiste, qui ne voit ailleurs que
Vecorce extérieure du globe, en trouve 1a les masses cen-
trales, relevées et percant de toute part leurs enveloppes,
pour se montrer a ses yeux; en fin, le météorologiste y
peut a chaque instant observer la formation des nuages,
pénétrer dans leur intérieur, ou s’éléver au-dessus d’eux.’””*

The second volume opens with the éloge of Fourcroy,—
the brilliant, the eloquent, the calumniated Fourcroy. The

struggles of his youth, and his vigorous resistance of injus-
tice and poverty, the account of his discoveries,—all form
one of the most powerful pieces of biography ever read.
The following description of his lectures recalls those of the
author, and, in many instances, is equally applicable to

* How delighted is the traveller when, in a beautiful summer’s day, af-
. -ter having with difficulty traversed the summits of the Jura, he arrives in
this ravine, where the immense bason of Geneva suddenly opens before
him, when at one glance he sees this beautiful lake, the waters of which
reflect the blue of heaven more deeply and more purely: this vast country,
so well cultivated and peopled by smiling habitations ; the hills which rise
by degrees, clothed with the richest vegetation; the mountains, covered
with evergreen forests ; the frowning crests of the High Alps, above this
superb amphitheatre ; and Mont Blanc, the giant of European mountains,
crowning the immense group of snows, where the disposal of the masses,
and the contrasts of light and shade, produce an effect which no expression
can convey to those who have not seen it.

And this beautiful country, so calculated to strike the imagination, to
feed the talent of the poet or the artist, is perhaps still more so to awaken
the curiosity of the philosopher, and to excite the researches of the follow-
er of natural philosophy. It is truly there that nature seems to delight in
showing herself under a number of different aspects.

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

108 MEMOIRS OF

both :-—“ For five and twenty years the amphitheatre of the
Jardin des Plantes was the centre of M. Fourcroy’s glory.
The great scientific establishments of this capital, where
celebrated masters expose to a numerous public, capable of
passing judgment on them, the most profound doctrines of
modern times, recall to our memory that which was noblest
in antiquity. We fancy we again find in these assemblies
a whole people animated by the voice of a single orator; and
again see those schools, where chosen disciples came to
‘penetrate the oracles of a sage. ‘The lectures of M. Four-
croy corresponded to this twofold picture: Plato and Demos-
thenes seemed to be united in him; and it is almost neces-
sary to be one or the other, to give an idea of them. Con-
nection of method, abundance of elocution, elevation,
precision, elegance of terms, as if they had been selected
long beforehand ; rapidity, brilliancy, novelty, as if suddenly
inspired ; a flexible, sonorous, and silvery voice, yielding to
every motion, penetrating into the corners of the largest
audience-room ;—nature had bestowed every thing on him.
Sometimes his discourse flowed smoothly and majestically ;
the grandeur of his metaphors, and the pomp of his style,
were all imposing; then, varying his accents, he passed in-
sensibly to the most ingenuous famiharity, and fixed atten-
tion by sallies of the most fascinating gaiety. Hundreds of
auditors, of all classes, all nations, were to be seen, passing
whole hours, closely pressed against each other, almost fear-
ing to breathe, their eyes fixed on his, suspended to his
mouth, as the poet says (pendent ab ore loquentis.) His
look of fire darted over the crowd ; in the farthest rows he
distinguished that mind which was difficult to convince, and
still doubted, or the slow comprehension which did not com-
pletely understand; for these he redoubled his arguments
and his similes, and varied his expressions until he found
those which would convince; language seemed to multiply
its riches for him, and he did not quit his subject till he
saw all his numerous audience equally satisfied.”

It is scarcely possible to mention Fourcroy, without recol-
lecting the odious suspicion attached to his name ;* I there-

* It was reported that he might have saved the life of M. Lavoisier

during the reign of terror, as indeed he had saved many by his influence ;
but, at the moment of M. Lavoisier’s arrest, his own life was threatened,

BARON CUVIER. 109 ©

fore give M. Cuvier’s observations, taken from the same
éloge :—* Perhaps 1 may be blamed for recalling these sad
recollections; but where a celebrated man has been so un-
fortunate as to be accused, as M. Fourcroy was,—where
this accusation occasioned the torment of his life,—the his-
torian would in yain strive to bury it in oblivion, by being
himself silent. We ought now to say, that if, in the strict
researches we have made, we had found the slightest proof
of so horrible an atrocity, no human power could have
forced us to sully our lips by his éloge, to make the roofs of
this temple resound with our praises,—this temple, which
ought to be no less the asylum of honour than of genius.”

To Dessesserts, the physician, and subject of the next
éloge, the French owe the banishment of those horrible
machines of whalebone, those swathing clothes, those hot-
houses, where the minds and bodies of infants were impri-
soned from their birth. By M. Dessesserts were those
mothers recalled to their duty, who abandoned the nourish-
ment of their offspring to others, when capable of affording
it themselves ; and, though unacknowledged, to M. Des-
sesserts was Rousseau indebted for the first pages of his
Emile.

The next subject of biographical notice is Henry Caven-
dish, that remarkable Englishman, who, notwithstanding
his splendid fortune and his noble birth, pursued science with
the most disinterested ardour. How M. Cuvier appreciated
his labours, will be gathered from the following passage:—
“All that science revealed to him, seemed to be tinctured
with the sublime and the marvellous: he weighed the
earth, he prepared the means of navigating through the air,
he deprived water of its elementary quality ; and these doc-
trines, so new, and so opposed to received opinions, were
demonstrated by him in a manner still more extraordinary
than the discovery itself. The writings where he lays them
before others, are so many chefs-d’ceuvre of wisdom and
method; perfect in their whole, and perfect in their details,
in which no other hand has found any thing to reform, and
the splendour of which has only increased with time.....

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

K

110 MEMOIRS OF

so that there can be no temerity in predicting, that he
will reflect back upon his house much greater lustre than
he has received from it; and that these researches, which,
perhaps, excited the pity and contempt of some of his con-
temporaries, will make his name resound, at an age to
which his rank and his ancestry alone would not have trans-
mitted it. 'The history of thirty centuries clearly teaches
us, that great and useful truths are the sole durable inheri-
tance which man can leave behind him.”

The next in the list of great names is that of Pallas,
the enlightened and sagacious traveller of the north of Asia,
the inhabitant of the Crimea, and the learned and indefati-
gable naturalist.

The éloges of M. Parmentier and Count Rumford are
combined, and commence with a sort of introduction to the
useful labours of each ; labours which bore so strongly on
the means of affording warmth and nourishment to the
poorer classes. The former, who had learned the value of
the potato as an article of food in the prisons of Germany,
overcame the prejudices entertained against them in France,
where they were said to produce leprosy, fevers, and no one
knows what diseases. His mode of rendering them popu-
lar and desirable was curious ; for he began by cultivating
them in the open fields, and causing them to be carefully
guarded by day only : he was but too happy when he was.
informed, that this apparent caution had induced depreda-
tion by night. He then obtained from the king of France
the favour of wearing a bunch of poiato blossoms in the
button-hole of his coat, ata solemn féte ; and nothing more
was required to cause some of the great lords of the king-
dom to order its cultivation on their estates. Not, however,
till the last years of his life, was he completely successful ;
and during the great Revolution he was rejected as a ma-
gistrate, because he had envented potatoes.

Benjamin Thompson, Count Rumford, was an American
by birth, and served as a royalist in the war between Ameri-
ca and England. After the peace he came to the latter
country, where he was knighted by George IIL., and recom-
mended by that sovereign to the protection of the Elector
of Bavaria, at whose court he rose to the highest dignities.
It was then that he turned his attention to the state of the

BARON CUVIER. 111

poor, and, in trying to find means for meliorating their
condition, he made those beautiful discoveries which have
benefited all classes. ‘The labours and character of the
oriental traveller, Olivier, are then noticed, and the history of
this excellent man furnishes another proof of the immense
influence, that a knowledge of medicine will produce among
uncivilized people.

M. 'Tenon, the surgeon, is afterwards presented to us.
His youth was passed in a series of struggles; his maturi-
ty was beautiful, and he reached the age of ninety-two
without intellectual infirmity.

The éloge of the famous Werner is in every respect in-
teresting, for in it we find a brief résumé of all that was
done by this great man, together with the peculiarities which
deprived the world of the written results of his labours and
extensive knowledge ; he having preferred to trust his re-
putation to the justice of his disciples, rather than have re-
course to his own pen for transmitting it to posterity.

The life of Desmarets follows :—Desmarets the antago-
nist of Werner, the champion of volcanoes ; he in whose
discoveries originated the famous disputes between the Plu-
tonians and Neptunians, and which disputes not only placed
the whole world between fire and water, but occasioned
more animosity than any question which had hitherto agitat-
ed the learned world.

To this second volume are added two éloges read before
the Philomathic Society of Paris, the discourse of M. Cuvier
on his reception at the Academie Francaise, and the reply
of the director of that Academy. ‘The first of these two
éloges is that of M. Riche, whose life resembles that of a
hero of romance, and whose feelings and adventures, per-
haps, caused his death at the age of thirty-five. The se-
cond is that of M. Bruguiére, the companion of Olivier, al-
ready noticed. The discourse of M. Cuvier assumes a tone
in which the nature of his professional studies scarcely ever
allowed him to indulge, but in which we trace the same per-
fection as elsewhere. It is full of classical and elegant al-
lusions ; it is the production of a man of letters, and shows
how admirable is the combination when science and litera-
ture occupy the same mind. In the reply of the Count de

112 MEMOIRS OF

Séze will be found a very admirable resume of M. Cuvier’s
labours up to that period.

The third volume begins with the eloge of M. de Beau-
vois, the African traveller, to whom the world owes the
Flora of Owaree and Benin; and who, after wrestling with
the storms both of this continent and those of America,
died in consequence of the sudden changes to which a
European climate is so frequently liable. In this biography
are some remarkable passages concerning slavery.

M. Cuvier’s brotherly feeling,—his gratitude, if I may
so express myself,—towards all promoters of science, 1s no-
where more strongly manifested than in his eulogium on Sir
Joseph Banks, the distinguished and munificent patron of
scientific labourers. The travels and adventures of Sir Jo-
seph are here related with vivacity ; and the famous dis-
pute about points and buttons to electrical conductors, which
placed him at the head of the Royal Society, and which, in
other hands might have afforded much scope for ridicule, is
touched on with a delicacy peculiar to M. Cuvier’s disposi-
tion. Nor is this éloge less remarkable for the honourable
testimony given to a nation which has been but too often
regarded with jealousy, and which has but too often met
these sentiments with a reciprocal feeling. “ "The savans
of England,” says the Baron Cuvier, “have taken an equal-
ly glorious part in those mental labours which are common
to all civilized people: they have confronted the eternal
frosts of either pole; they have not left a corner of the twe
oceans unvisited ; they have increased the catalogue of na-
ture tenfold ; heaven has been peopled by them with plan-
ets, statellites, and unheard-of phenomena; we may al-
most say that they have counted the stars of the milky
way. If chemistry has assumed a new aspect, the facts
they have furnished have essentially contributed to this meta-
morphosis. Inflammable air, pure air, phlogistic air, are
due to them; they have discovered the decomposition of
water, and a number of new metals have been produced
by their analyses. The nature of fixed alkalies has only
been demonstrated by them ; mechanism, at their voice,
has given birth to miracles, and placed their country above
all others in almost every species of manufacture.”

The mineralogist, M. Duhamel, appeared at a time when

BARON CUVIER. 113

De Saussure had not travelled, Deluc had not written, nor
Werner, by the force of his extraordinary genius, arranged
the mineral universe ; and, after years of scientific labour,
was appointed to the Ecole des Mines, established in Paris :
and in tracing his influence in this professorship, M. Cuvier
thus speaks —« Our products in iron are quadrupled; the
mines of this metal opened, near the Loire, in the region of
coal, and in the midst of combustible matter, are about to
yield iron at the same price as in England. Antimony,
manganese, which we formerly imported, are now exported
in considerable quantities. Chrome, discovered by one of
our chemists, is also the useful product of one of our mxnes.
Zinc and tin have already been extracted from the mines on
the coast of Britany. Alum and vitriol, formerly almost
unknown in France, are collected in abundance. An im-
mense mass of rock salt has just been discovered in Lor-
-raine ; and all promises that these new creations will not
stop here. Doubtless, it is not to a single man, nor to the
appointment of a single professorship, that all this may be
attributed ; but it is not the less true, that this one man,
this one professorship, has been the primary cause of these
advantages.”

The name of M. Haity, the geologist, the mineralogist, the
founder of crystallography, forms a sort of oracle in the
learned world, and I have a peculiar pleasure in dwelling
on this éloge, because it is one of the most admirable of all.
and does honour to M. Cuvier’s heart, showing how entirely
he was independent of selfish feelings, how truly just he
could be, even to those who had opposed him w im hostile
sentiments. ‘I'he extraordinary man here spoken of com-
menced the world as a chorister, and studied natural philoso-
phy and botany as amusements. ‘These tastes led him
frequently to the Jardin des Plantes, in Paris ; and chance
took him one day, with the crowd, into the amphitheatre, to
hear M. Daubenton lecture on mineralogy. Mineralogy
henceforth became interesting to him ; and chance equally
befriended him in this new direction of his pursuits. Hap-
pening to examine a mineral at the louse of a friend, he
accidently let fall a beautiful group of calcareous spar ; the
fracture of one of the prismatic crystals opened a new world
of ideas to him, and he became the M. Haity, the legislator

x

Ke

114 MEMOIRS OF

of mineralogy, the founder of a system which has been
adopted all over the world. Imprisoned during the fury of
the Revolution, he tranquilly pursued his studies in his cell,
and was with difficulty torn from it by his friend, M. Geof-
froy St: Hilaire, on the fatal 2d of September. In 1802, he
was appointed Professor to the Museum of Natural History.
Pious, benevolent, tolerant, and devoted to his studies, no
worldly considerations ever intercepted his religious exercises
nor his scientific labours; and his mode of living was as
simple as the station from which he sprung: he walked in
the same places every day, took the same exercise, wore the
same fashion of clothing, and his manners and language
were equally remarkable for their primitive simplicity. A
fail in his own room occasioned a fracture from which he
never recovered; but, during the long hours of pain which
preceded his death, he divided his time between prayer, a
careful edition of his works, and the future fate of his pu-
pils.

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

M. Richard came into the world at Autuil, a garden be-
longing to Louis XV., of which he afterwards became the
chief; and, born in the midst of plants, he knew their
names before he could read, and could draw them before he
could write correctly. ‘To the study of botany was his whole
life devoted; for this he perfected himself in drawing, and
became acquainted with the Greek and Latin languages ;
for this he refused advantageous offers in the church; and
for this he was turned out from the paternal dwelling, with
the scantiest pittance. Drawing by night, and studying
botany by day, he by degrees accumulated money, but this
money was for his favourite science. He was sent to the
French colonies in America, to propagate Indian produc-
tions, and discover which of theirs could in turn be made
useful. Laden with treasures he returned to France, but
all there was changed; M, de Buffon was dead ; the govern-
ment unskilful and in confusion; no one recollected the
promises made to him, and people whose heads were hourly
in danger, cared little for the cloves of Cayenne. Enfeebled
in health, exhausted in fortune, and unable to look forward

BARON CUVIER. 115

to better times, M. Richard had to re-commence the same
sort of life which he had led at fourteen years of age. As
a man of science he remained as great as ever; his disser-
tations were astonishing proofs of the extent and sagacity of
his views; but his temper, soured by so many misfortunes,
never recovered its tone, and he died, at the age of sixty-
seven, after much bodily and mental suffering.

Few who have been in the habit of visiting the Jardin
des Plantes within the last forty years will be ignorant of
the name, at least, of M. Thouin. He there succeeded his
father as head gardener, and uniting science and the most
enlightened views to practical knowledge, and placing his
affections on the improvement of his garden, he became a
centre of correspondence for all parts of the world. His fine
countenance, noble and engaging deportment, and his in-
teresting conversation, caused him to be sought by the most
elevated, as well as the most humble, in the ranks of life.
He died in 1524.

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

The éloges of MM. Hallé, Corvisart, and Pinel, three
great physicians, are united into one. The first of these
was the active promoter of vaccination, was skilful in his
treatment of chronic disorders, and was equally celebrated
for his charity. M. Corvisart, who lost several opportunities
of promction because he would not wear a bag wig, was at
length appointed to the direction of the Hopital de la Cha-
rite, and afterwards to a professorship at the Ecole de Mé-
decine. His fame spread through Europe, and, before he
died, he became head physician at court. M. Pinel prepar-
ed himself for the study of medicine by a knowledge of ma-
thematics and natural history, but, unable to express him-
self, in consequence of a most invincible timidity, he was
long neglected. When, however, his merits once became
known, he rose rapidly in fame; he was appointed to the

116 MEMOIRS OF

hospital of Bicétre; thence to that of the Salpétriére, and
afterwards toa chair at the Ecole de Médecine. He was
particularly famous for his classification of diseases, and his
treatment of madness.

It would be impossible, in the brief sketch to which I am
limited, to do justice to the éloge of M. Fabbroni, who, from
the variety of his genius and knowledge demanded equal
variety from his biographer; and all that can be done is to
show a portion of the talents which have elicited this remark.
Like most of those who have attained great celebrity, the
early years of M. Fabbroni were passed in struggle and dif-
ficulty. His first work was entitled, “ Reflections on the
Present State of Agriculture; or, an Exposition of the 'True
Method of cultivating (landed) property.” He became sub-
director of the beautiful museum at Florence, where he
founded lectures. Driven from this establishment by Marie
Louise, Queen of Etruria, he yet continued to serve his

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

BARON CUVIER. 117

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

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

The volume is closed by two of those admirable reports,
in which M. Cuvier always displayed his genius and ac-
quirements in their full strength. In the first, which is on
the progress of natural history between the maritime peace
and the year 1824, will be found an account of the impor-
tant travels of that period. The second treats of the prin-
cipal changes which chemical theories l:ave undergone, and
of the new services rendered by this science to society at
large, and was read at a general meeting of the four acade-
mies, in 1820.

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

118 MEMOIRS OF

or to avoid the ennui produced by too long a demand on—
their attention.

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

Conscientiously fulfilling some of the most important
duties of the state, equally devoted to those of his different
secretaryships and professorships, and daily progressing In
the most profoundly scientific works and discoveries, it is no
wonder that he rarely found time for a course of lectures.
At length, however, struck with the errors which he per-
ceived in the system of unity of composition, and fearing
the injurious direction that such ideas might give to youthful
studies, he combated them solely for the love of science ;
and his health fortunately permitting, he for this purpose

resumed his chair at the college, and, taking for his subject
the entire history of natural sciences, he, in this series, _

seemed to carry learned research, precision, clearness,
sound and elevated views proceeding from the deepest

thought and erudition, and a pre-eminent power of separat-

ing truth from error, to the highest degree to which man
could attain. The charms of his flexible and sonorous
voice, which could be heard every where in its sweetest:

tones, the benignity and animation of his countenance,
attracted each sex and various ages. In the coldest

weather, the audience assembled an hour before the time,
and some were contented to remain on the stair-case, pro-
vided they could catch some of his melodious words ; and

BARON CUVIER. 119

the enthusiasm with which he was received, while it en-
dangered his personal convenience, called forth that bene-
volent smile which was calculated rather to encourage than
bepress these marks of admiration.

“The fundamental principal of these lectures,” says M.
Laurillard, “was, that society having been developed by
the discovery of the natural properties of bodies, each of
these discoveries has a corresponding degree of civilization ;
and therefore the history of this civilization, and conse-
quently of all humanity, is intimately connected with the
history of natural sciences.” In order to be fully in pos-
session of his subject, how immense must have been the
research of M. Cuvier! and nothing but a review of his
whole life seems to account fcr his capability. Several
have been able to elucidate particular periods to the study
of which they have devoted themselves ; but his researches
embraced all historical and philosophical science. He con-
sulted all books, in order to go back to the origin of disco-
veries ; and the judgment necessary for the employment of
materials thus collected was so much the greater, inasmuch
as writers frequently state but the germs of their ideas, and
leave facts almost as obscure as they are in nature.

The first, or opening lecture, divided the progress of

science into three epochs; the religious, more especially

emanating from the Egyptians and Hebrews; the philoso-

phieal, which commenced in Greece; and the third, the
beginning of which may, perhaps, be traced to Aristotle,
_ though its importance can only be dated from the sixteenth
century. In this lecture were also discussed the age of
the world, the vestiges cf the great deluge, and the value
of the astronomical records of primitive nations.

The second lecture gave a sketch of the four great na-
tions constituted at the remotest period before Christianity,
and of which aah gives us any certain information,
The extent of their knowledge was measured; the influ-
ence of that knowledge appreciated ; and, in speaking of
‘Moses, M. Cuvier said that, although Moses was brought
up in all the learning of the Egyptians, he foresaw the in-
conveniences of, and laboured much to abolish their prac-
tice of veiling the truth under mysterious emblems. ‘That
Moses was in possession of that truth was evident from

120 MEMOIRS OF

his system of cosmogony, which every discovery of re-
cent times serves but to confirm. ‘The progress of the
nations who sprung from the Egyptians, the diffusion
of their learning, the bards, the philosophers, the schools
of Greece, were given with a most absorbing interest
and beauty, and occupied six lectures. In the eighth,
he began his history of Aristotle, the founder of the science
of natural history. As might be expected, M. Cuvier
became, if possible, more eloquent, more fascinating than
ever. The subject was likely to inspire him, and his
audience were not disappointed ; they left the lecture-room,
forgetting their favourite professor, for the moment, in his
description of his great predecessor.

The twelfth lecture was devoted to the advantages which
accrued to science, in consequence of the labours of Aristo-
tle. From these the Professor passed to a rapid sketch of
the history of the Ptolemies; and before he laid the world
before his hearers, in the state in which it was under the
dominion of the Romans, he glanced over the Carthagi-
nians and Eitrurians. Having at length reached the mas-
ters of the globe, he gave a full description of those mag-
nificent feasts, and those combats of animals, which put
every known quarter of the earth under contribution, and
passed all their learned men in review. Then tracing the
state of science during the great struggles which establish-
ed Christianity, and during its languid existence in the By-
zantine Empire, M. Cuvier led the attention towards the
Arabs, who cultivated some branches with success. He
then followed it into the different nations composed of the
wrecks of the Western Empire, and through the slight
climmerings of existence shown during the middle ages,
and throwing the same deep tone of interest over every
epoch, the revival of letters gave fresh scope to his dis-
course. It was no longer a mere dawning, or a decay,
which at times seemed hopeless; but it was a series of
brilliant discoveries, which spread their influence over the
remotest parts of the world; and, beginning with print-
ing, he, in his opening lecture to the second part of his
course, premised, that he should no longer be able to enter
into those details which had accompanied his account of
preceding ages. 'The subject became too vast, and during

BARON CUVIER. | . 121

the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries, the
number of authors multiplied to such a degree, that it was
impossible for him to do more than select the most impor-
tant, and he was obliged to divide science itself into several
branches, in order to be more easily comprehended. The
first branch thus noticed was anatomy, the progress of
which he traced to the middle of the seventeenth century.

He in like manner treated zoology and the travels which
threw light upon it. He then proceeded to botany, mine-
ralogy, and chemistry, bringing each down to the same
period.

The discoveries of Galileo and Descartes were consider-
ed in the eleventh lecture of the second course, and the in-
fluence they and their writings shed over natural sciences.
T'o this infiuence may be attributed the formation of the
different academies of science, the history of which, toge-
ther with that of the celebrated men who composed them
at their commencement, formed a most interesting lecture.
Then, having proved by cited works and discoveries, that
the seventeenth century was the great era of science, and
having finished the history of this period in all its scienti-
fic bearings, M. Cuvier closed his second course by sum-
ming up all that had been said in an abridged form.

The third course began with the eighteenth century,
which, like its predecessors, passed in review, though from
its importance and activity, it, in several instances, required
even more division into parts, and various features of it de-
manded especial notice. ‘T'o Buffon, for instance, M. Cu-
vier devoted two entire lectures, which at the time were
thought to be the most beautiful and eloquent he had ever
delivered. ‘This third course was interrupted from the pre-
ceding Easter till the December following, when he re-
opened it for the purpose gf continuing his history from
the time of Buffon. He first gave a clear and eloquent
résumé of the philosophy of Kant, of Fichte, and of Schel-
ling ; and one day in every week was set apart by him,
notwithstanding his increased duties as a peer of France,
for the continuation of this immense undertaking. The
interval of repose which followed, and which was absolute-
ly necessary for his health, was prolonged much beyond
his calculation by the dreadful visitation of the cholera ;

L

122 MEMOIRS OF

but on the Sth of May, 1832, he again resumed the chair
with one of his most impressive and elevated discourses.
Never had he spoken with more fire, nor with more ease
to himself: he “could have continued for two or three
hours longer,” he said, “had he not been afraid of tirmg
his audience.” But they had heard him for the last time,
and this lecture, the memorable words it contained, and the
effect it produced, seem to me to be so inseparable from his
death that, for a further description of it, I must refer the
reader to the last portion of this volume where the sad
details of the closing scene are rélated at length. And
now having endeavoured, though I fear but with inade-
quate success, to describe M. Cuvier’s scientific labours, 1
cannot do better than return to that part of his works,
which it is here the principal object to illustrate. The two
examples offered of his familiar style of writing, belong to
his private character; and, in the first, written to } Madame
Cuvier immediately after starting for one of his journeys,
the man, the husband, and the father, are so simply and
unconsciously exposed, that 1 cannot be too thankful for
the permission to make it public. "he second was ad-
dressed to M. Valenciennes, during the last illness of M.
Cuvier’s daughter, and both speak too forcibly for the writer
to require any further comment.

_ Pont Sainte Maxence,
Dimanche, 19 Mai, 1811. Soir.
Ma tendre amie,

Le temps, les chemins, les cheveaux et les postilions se
sont trouvés si excellens, que nous sommes arrivés a Pont
Sainte Maxence avant six heures, et que jai amérement
regretté les deux ou trois bonnes heures que jaurais pu
passer encore avec tol, sans retarder en rien le terme de mon
voyage ; crois du moins que je les y passe bien en imagi-
nation, et que le souvenir de tes caresses, et de ta douce
amitié fera le bonheur de toute ma route. Dis je te prie a
Sophie combien j’ai été touché de ses adieux ; dis-le aussi a
ma bonne Clémentine ; pour Georges, il ne pensait encore
qu’au malheur de ne plus avoir des bétes tous les soirs, mais
je te prie de lui en promettre, et méme de lui en donner
quelques fois de ma part, en bois, en plomb, ou en toute autre

BARON CUVIER. 125

matiére solide, car il m’a trésbien fait remarquer ce matin,que
des bétes en gravure ne pouvaient pas se tenir debout. Ce
pauvre enfant ne se doute pas combien il pourrait rencontrer
chaque jour des bétes qui se tiendraient debout. Ma bonne
amie, nous nous portons bien ; nous avons parcouru uN pays
agréable; nous sommes dans un auberge supportable; notre
voitue parait vouloir résister : ainsi jusqu’A ce moment tout
s’annonce bien. Prie Dieu que cela dure: tu es si bonne
qu’il ne peut te refuser. Adieu. Mille tendres baisers.

G. C.

LETTER I.

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

The weather, the road, the horses, and the postilions, have
proved so excellent, that we have reached Pont Sainte
Maxence before six o'clock ; and I have bitterly regretted
the two or three good hours that I could still have passed
with thee, without in the least retarding the end of my
journey. At least, believe that I have passed them in my
imagination, and that the remembrance of thy caresses and
tender friendship will form the happiness of my whole way.
I beg of thee to tell Sophie how sensible I was to her adieus ;
say the same to my good Clementine: as to George, he
only thought of the unhappiness of not having any more
betes every evening, but I ask of thee to promise him some,
and even to give him some occasionally, as from me, in
wood, in lead, or any other solid substance ; for he aptly
remarked to me this morning, that the béfes in engravings
could not stand upright. The poor child does not think
how often he may daily meet with bétes who do hold them-
selves upright. We are quite well my good friend; we
have traversed an agreeable country; and we are in @
tolerable inn. Our carriage appears to be quite able to bear
the journey ; thus, up to this moment, all goes well. Pray
to God that this may last; thou art so good that he cannot
refuse thee. Adieu. A thousand tender kisses.

124 MEMOIRS OF BARON CUVIER.

LETTER II.

My dear Friend,

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

PART! IE.

i am now arrived at that part of the Baron Cuvier’s labours
which is least known in this country, and certainly the
least understood, on account of the marked differences which
must always exist between the legislature of two nations so
dissimilar in feeling and character as England and France.
Before I enter upon this subject, however, I must request
my readers to bear in their memory these three things :—
First, that the improvement of the human mind and mo-
rals was the Baron Cuvier’s sole and real ambition; second-
ly, that his leading inclination was the advancement of sci-
ence, which he considered the best auxiliary of his views on
mankind ; and thirdly, that the great maxim and rule of
his life was order. Whatever tended to derange these was
avoided by him with the most scrupulous care; whatever
tended to their advancement was most cherished by him.
He loved his places, because they gave him the power of
executing his great and benevolent views, and he preferred
that mode of government which lent most aid to his enlarg-
ed and philanthropical schemes. At the same time, he
steadily and firmly rejected every thing which would have
disturbed that internal repose of conscience which was abso-
lutely necessary to the exertion of his own powers.

It isj not to be supposed, because M. Cuvier supported
every government under which he lived, defended its laws,
its institutions, and its existence itself, in his temporary
office of Commissaire du Roi*, as counsellor of the Univer-
sity, and Counsellor of State, that he was blindly attached
to existing forms. On the contrary, he wished for, he
sought amendment and correction ; but his knowledge of
the history of all nations, the experience of his youth, taught
him, that the sudden subversion of these forms and institu-
tions produced anarchy and confusion, and stagnated every

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

as

126 MEMOIRS OF

thing like progress; and what ne demanded was, that
every attempted improvement should be the result of deep
thought, calm discussion, and vigorous search after the ne-
cessity of its taking place. He felt that the passion for in-
novations of all kinds, which characterized the times in
which he lived, produced a constant change of systems,
which was calculated rather to destroy than to improve, and,
consequently, his actions and counsels were conservative,
yet progressive. “He was always the mediator between
the time passed and the time to come—between France
and other nations; he resisted the antipathy of his country-
men against those whom they chose to call barbarous ; and
with his whole force always tried to stem the torrent which
their vanity and versatility occasionally poured over that
which was wise and useful.”

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

It would be difficult to decide in which part of his public
life Baron Cuvier’s talents were most pre-eminent; the
affairs of the University alone would have sufficed for ‘most
men; for not only were the letters, notes, and remarks
which proceeded from his pen in this service innumerable,
but, besides these every-day labours, of which the heads of
the departments only can form a just calculation, he wrote a
mass of Memoirs and Reports, either to enable the directing
ministry to comprehend the nature of this institution, or to
furnish them with arguments for its defence against its
many enemies. Appointed to be one of the members of the
Council of the University (1808,) he soon attracted the no-
tice of the Grand Master, Fontanes, who named him Com-
missaire of a discussion about to take place in the Council of
State in the presence of Napoleon, respecting the Imperial
University. M. Regnault de St. Jean d’Angely, who spoke

BARON CUVIER. 127

against the university, supported his opinion with much
warmth, and with all the talent he so eminently possessed.
M. Cuvier replied to him, and Napoleon who had listened to
both withthe greatest attention, turned towards M. Regnault,
and said, “Je crois que vous étes atteint et convaincu
d’avoir tort,” &c.* This circumstance, and the reports made
by M. Cuvier after his return from Italy and Holland, led
the Emperor to appreciate his legislative talents, and to ap-
point him Maitre des Requétest in the Council of State.
His high opinion went still further; for he ordered M. Cu-
vier to select a library for the use of the King of Rome in
his education. ‘The list was made, and laid before Napo-
leon at the Thuiileries, when the expedition to Russia put
an end to all these projects.

Raised to the rank of Counseller of Statet in 1814, M.
Cuvier’s powers of defence were constantly called forth in
favour of the body of which he formed a part; and not only
did he shield it from the attacks made upon it, but he was
often obliged to teach the very ministers the part it played
in the government, and the importance to themselves of
preserving this institution. ‘The ministerial archives of
France contain many of his Memoirs on this subject, by
which he demonstrated the necessity of separating the judi-
cial from the administrative part of government, as ordered
by the Constituent Assembly; at the same time, that this
could not be effected without the creation of a Council of
State. The duties of this body are, to prepare laws, to ex-
amine ordonnances, and to decide whether the complaints
brought against the authorized agents of the government
require judicial proceedings. It is composed of enlightened
men, who offer a better chance of impartiality than if they
themselves were attached to the offices filled by the offend-
ing parties. Ina very few years after he was admitted to

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

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

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

128 MEMOIRS OF

the Council of State, we find M. Cuvier appointed President
of the Comité de l’Intérieur,* and from this time his legis-
lative duties were so mingled with those belonging to the
University, that it becomes difficult, and, in fact, almost im-
possible, to speak of them separately. Called to these im-
portant charges when all required to be revivedand re-organ-
ized, it is scarcely possible for us to conceive the difficulties
that were presented to him: but with what vigour and ta-
lent did he put all into action! Public Instruction being
attached to the Presidency, he was obliged to draw out the
plans for study ; to regulate the discipline of the schools; to
decide according to the actual necessities of a new order of
society ; and, nevertheless, only to obey these necessities so
long as they did not interfere with those principles of public
or domestic order, without which there is no repose, either in
a family or a state: in short to give the rising generation
the knowledge and habits most calculated to preserve the
great ties of society, and to select those who were most
worthy of disseminating such knowledge into every part of
the kingdom. How vast then must have been that capacity
which besides these duties, embraced every branch of science
and literature! I dare not dispute that others may have
been equally gifted by a beneficent Creator, but I dare affirm,
that the one ruling principle of order was the human agen-
ey by which M. Cuvier brought his heaven-born faculties
into full force.

M. Cuvier greatly occupied himself with municipal and
provincial laws, and those relating to public instruction ;
every branch of which was the object of his exertions. His
projects were often too much modified before they were exe-
cuted, for the Jesuits, as a matter of course, were his formi-
dable enemies. Not contented with issuing ordonnances
from the Department of the Interior, he composed a great
many Memoirs to accompany them, which exposed their

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

BARON CUVIER. 129

motives, and formed so many precious commentaries, as
they explained with the greatest perspicuity the reason of
every article. He thought it as useful to spread every
where the reason of the laws as to disseminate the laws
themselves; thinking that the latter are often attacked and
mistaken by the public for want of a proper comprehension
of the motives which caused them to be framed.

Under the ministry formed on the 26th of September,
1815, and composed of the Duc de Richelieu, Marbois, Cor-
vetto, Fittre, Vaublanc, Dabouchage, and de Cazes, M.
Cuvier was enabled to render an essential service to F'rance,
which I cannot do better than describe in a translation of
his own notes. ‘I had then an opportunity of rendering
great services to this country, which have never been pub-
licly declared, but which I should be sorry should not one
day be known to have emanated fromme. R —- sup-
ported me in all the meliorations we brought about in the
Council concerning the criminal laws, which were prepared
in the spirit of the times, but the modifications which ren-
dered those of the Prevotal Courts* almost inoffensive are
due to me. In the first place, judicial power was given to
them not only over revolts, and attempts openly committed
on the public peace, but over conspiracies and attempts plot-
ted in secret; and not only over crimes which might take
place after the law was promulgated, but over all which had
taken place at any period whatever. It is very evident that
in a country like ours, where there are so many men of all
classes ever ready to follow the torrent of the day, these two
powers would have transformed the Prevotal Courts into so
many revolutionary tribunals. Nevertheless, we did not
obtain any thing from the united Committees of the Inte-
rior, and the law was prepared; but after a meeting of the
Council of State, presided by the Duc de Richelieu, I de-
manded a discussion of these questions in his presence be-
fore a new assemblage of the Committees. I believe that I
never spoke with so much fire; and, notwithstanding the
violence of — and — , thanks to the upright and
honest mind of the Duc de Richelieu, I succeeded in getting

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

130 MEMOIRS OF

the articles concerning secret plots entirely erased. ‘There
yet remained the visitation of former offences to be over-
come. M. de — opposed it in the Committee of the
Chamber of Deputies, where it was defended by two coun-
sellors of state; I was invited to join them, as I should na-
turally have been obliged to do in my office of Commissaire
du Roi, but I refused, and the law did not pass. The Pre-
votal Courts have already caused evil enough by the man-
ner of their establishment, but I venture to affirm, that their
mischievous effects would have been incalculable if the plan
had not been changed on these two points. I am the sole
cause with respect to that of the secret plots, but with re-
gard to the punishment of past offences, M. de ———— con-
tributed with me to its being abandoned.”

Always guided by the feeling of the good he could effect,
and the evil he might avert, under every change of minis-
try M. Cuvier was to be found, not only defending the insti-
tutions which were in danger of being overthrown, but in
the Chambers and in the Council, generally successful in
preventing those alterations which would have reduced the
objects of his unremitting cares to a state of feebleness.
Under the ministry of M. , & proposal was made to in-
troduce the Jesuits into the University, or, in fact, to deliver
it into their hands, and M. Cuvier’s firm and spirited resist-
ance alone prevented this measure, which, in all probability,
would have caused its destruction. His refusal to form a
part of the commission for the censorship of the press, at a
moment when, from the despotic nature of the government,
this refusal might have been followed by the most grievous
consequences to himself, yet more forcibly proves that he
was not the man to preserve his places at the price of his

reputation. As this occurrence has been much misrepre- _

sented, I shall relate all the circumstances which attended
it. In M. Cuvier’s capacity of Counsellor of State, he had
been one of the first most vigorously to oppose the censorship
and fearlessly maintained his opinion, both in full Council
and in the Chamber of Deputies; using all the energy and
reasoning he could command, and leaving nothing undone
to put a stop to the measure. ‘Thus far he had only to act
in strict accordance with the rank he held in the state, but
the interference of another body placed him in a more pain-

oc

BARON CUVIER. 131

ful situation. 'The Académie Francaise, of which he was
so distinguished a member, determined to interfere in this
question ; and it became a matter of consideration and dis-
pute, whether a purely learned assembly had any right to
join itself to party, and intermeddle with affairs of state.
M. Cuvier was of opinion, that it entirely lost sight of its
proper character by so doing ; that it would thus endanger
the harmony of the members among themselves; that it
destroyed its opportunities of usefulness by not retaining its
independence of politics, and completely overstepped the le-
gal boundary, by presenting a petition from a body, which
privilege in France is only accorded to individuals. These
motives alone (for he dared not listen to the detestation he
felt for the cause of this step on the part of the Academy)
induced him to employ all his eloquence to prevent the pe-
tition from being presented to the King. He unhesitatingly
exposed the inconveniences, the hateful bearings of such a
law ; but he persisted in it, that the Academy had no right
to mingle itself with political questions ; and that, if it once
suffered itself toassume such a privilege, it would at length
dwindle to a mere instrument of party. On this occasion,
however, his eloquence and reasoning proved of no avail ;
the King was petitioned by the Academy, but Charles X.
would not even receive the deputation. The rejected dig-
nitaries found favour with the multitude, and, of course, M.
Cuvier, and those of his opinion, were accused of pusillan-
imously preserving their places at the expense of good feel-
ing. ‘The project, however, owing to the resistance of the
Chamber of Peers, which then possessed more weight than
at present, was fora while abandoned. In the same year it
was renewed, and, without even asking his consent, before
he was in the least aware that the measure had been de-
cided on, the ministry appointed M. Cuvier one of the cen-
sors of the press. On Sunday the 14th of June, 1827,
at midnight, arrived an official despatch from the govern-
ment, written by M. Peyronnet, to announce to him that
his appointment to this office would appear the next morn-
ing, at nine o’clock, in the Moniteur. To refuse the in-
tended honour ; to foresee the probable consequences of
such a refusal ; to yield to these consequences without hesi-
tation; in short, to prefer conscience to interest, was the

432 MEMOIRS OF

work of an instant ; and in ten minutes, a firm, dignified,
but moderate refusal, was sent to the Chancery. ‘The or-
donnance was at that moment printed, and M. Cuvier’s.
name appeared in the list of the morning, because it had
been physically impossible to get it erased ; but private
means were taken to publish his refusal in every quarter,
till all France was in entire possession of the fact. Most of
the papers, under fear of the censorship, had been unable
to repair the error ; and, in fact, when the Journal des De-
bats ventured to insert M. Cuvier’s rejection of the office,
the lines which contained it were scratched out by the cen-
sors.* This conduct, with the fickle public, regained M.
Cuvier’s lost popularity, but produced great coolness towards
him on the part of the King. I ought not, however, to
omit mentioning, to the credit of Charles X., that this ¢ool-
ness ceased after M. Cuvier’s dreadful calamity. 'The first
time he appeared at Court after the loss of his daughter, his
Majesty addressed him with considerable feeling and kind-
ness, asked him several questions relative to the event, and
expressed himself as deeply concerned.

For the last thirteen years of his life did M. Cuvier pre-
side over the Comité de V’Intérieur, and the number of af-
fairs which passed through his hands in this office alone is
almost frightful to the imagination: I ought not, perhaps,
to say passed through, but that they were examined, deeply
considered, and forwarded by him. [ should speak much
within the limits of the truth, if I were to state them at ten
thousand every year. The art of properly distributing the
work among his colleagues ; his talent in directing discus-
sion ; his unfailing and prodigious memory, supplying ante-
cedent decisions at the desired moment; his profound
knowledge of the principles which ought to regulate each
affair, the best method of applying these principles at the
best opportunity ;—these qualities all rendered his presidency
the most remarkable of the present age,. and have indelibly
impressed it on the re collection of all who had the advan-
tage of labouring with him. 'T’o see him at one of these
meetings was, perhaps, to see him in his greatest perfection

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

BARON CUVIER. 133

asa legislator. Rarely eager to give his advice, he even
appeared to be thinking of subjects wholly irrelevant to the
matter in discussion; but he was often, at that very mo-
ment, writing the judgment or regulation which must ne-
cessarily follow the deliberation. His turn to speak only
came when all others had stated their reasons, when use-
less words were expended. ‘hen a new light burst upon
the whole ; facts assumed their proper position, confused
and mingled ideas were arranged in order, the inevitable
consequences appeared, and when he ceased to speak, the
discussion was terminated.”*

But these were not all the legislative labours of M. Cu-
vier. Always holding the office of Chancellor to the Uni-
versity, he had twice been forced, in the temporary vacation
of the Grand Mastership, to take upon himself the highest
dignity, and, during these two periods, fewer complaints
were made against this institution than at any other.t <A
most gratifying proof of the respect felt for him took place
at the moment that a change was made in this appointment.
It was the duty of the newly named Grand Master to dis-
tribute some prizes awarded by the University ; but he was

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

+ It should be understood, that, in twice accepting the functions of
Grand Master, for the time being, M. Cuvier never received the salary at-
tached to this high dignity, though it increased his household expenses, and
though it was richly endowed, even under the restored government. The
following are the dates of his holding this office :—M. Royer Collard va-
cated the presidency of the committee of public instruction on the 13th of
September, 1819. M. Cuvier replaced him on the same day; and a letter
from the minister of the interior, dated the 17th of the same month, noti-
fied the desire of the King, that the committee should continue its labours
under the presidency of the counsellor holding the place of chancellor.
M. Cuvier was that chancellor, and continued in the rank of Grand Mas-
ter until the 21st of December, 1820, ai which period M. Corbiére was
appointed to it. M. Corbiére resigned on the 31st of July, 1821, and M.

uvier was again chosen to fill the vacancy until the ist of June, 1822,
when M. Frayssinous was named Grand Master. The day on which M,
Frayssinous was called to the ministry, M. Cuvier was appointed Grand
Master for Protestant Affairs, which dignity only ceased with his exist-
ence ; and, let it be remembered, was equally filled by him without pecun-
lary remuneration,

M

134 MEMOIRS OF

very far from being popular, and as the public mind was at
that moment considerably agitated by political events, it was
generally understood that the students intended to raise a
violent commotion. Whether he was in reality unprepared
with his discourse, or whether he feared the consequences of
appearing on this occasion, the recently chosen dignitary re-
quested M. Cuvier to officiate for him. ‘'Tottering, as the
University was at that time, under the enmity of many
powerful men, one act of violence, one instance of excita-
tion and imprudence on the part ef its youthful followers,
might have caused its downfall; but M. Cuvier met the
difficulty with his wonted energy and judgment. Half an
hour, taken from the duties of the preceding evening, was
devoted to the composition of a discourse, which only re-
quired some minutes todeliver. ‘The day arrived, and the
students appeared, manifesting every hostile disposition.
The sight of M. Cuvier first checked their excited feelings :
they remained in respectful silence ; the reason and gentle-
ness of his expressions restored complete tranquillity ; the
distribution took place, and as the benevolent and revered
master laid the crowns upon the heads of his disciples, he
addressed them as a father would his children ; nothing but
the murmurs of gratitude and applause were heard, instead
of the angry and turbulent conduct threatened, and the
University was saved. og

Even had Charles X. made the Grand Mastership of
the University a permanent office, which intention he more
than once expressed, M. Cuvier could not have held it, ow-
ing to the insurmountable obstacle presented by his religion ;
therefore was he made perpetual Grand Master of the Pro-
testant Faculties. This honour was not even opposed by
the Catholic bishops, who were thoroughly sensible of M.
Cuvier’s profound knowledge of ecclesiastical affairs, of his
tolerating spirit, which never prompted him to one harsh
measure, and he assumed this important charge to the great
satisfaction of all France ; if, indeed, we except the fanatics
of his own creed, who were, perhaps, as much opposed to his
enlightened views as.the Jesuits, and caused even greater
obstacles to the meliorations he endeavoured to establish.
He instantly commenced a completely new system of order
and encouragement, which, it is true, did not always suc-

BARON CUVIER. 135

ceed according to his hopes ; so difficult is it to wean the un-
enlightened from the prejudice of party, and from long-estab-
lished ideas. He, however, perseveringly continued his en-
deavours, undaunted even by the failure of many schemes,
provided he could be successful but in one instance. He be-
lieved that instruction would lead to civilization, and civili-
zation to morality; and, therefore, that primary instruction
should give to the people every means of fully exercising
their industry without disgusting them with their condition ;
that secondary instruction should expand the mind without
rendering it false or presumptuous ; and that special instruc-
tion* should give to France, magistrates, generals, physi-
clans, clergy, and professors, all distinguished for their en-
lightened views; in fact, that succession of elevated cha-
racters which make the real and imperishable glory of the
country in which they act their part. But here it may be
interesting again to introduce M. Cuvier’s own words, as ex-
pressing his sentiments, and which have been supplied to
me by M. Laurillard:—“Give schools before political
rights; make citizens comprehend the duties that the state
of society imposes on them; teach them what are political
rights before you offer them for their enjoyment. Then all
meliorations will be made without causing a shock; then
each new idea, thrown upon good ground, will have time to
germinate, to grow, and to ripen, without convulsing the
social body. Imitate nature, who, in the developement of
beings, acts by gradation, and gives time to every member
of her most powerful elements. The infant remains nine
months in the body of its mother ; man’s physical perfection
only takes place at twenty or thirty, and his moral comple-
tion from thirty to forty. Institutions must have ages to
produce all their fruits ; witness Christianity, the effects of
which are not yet accomplished, notwithstanding a thou-

sand years of existence.”

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

136 MEMOIRS OF

With such objects always in view, M. Cuvier attempted
and executed several improveinents, of which I shall now
speak. ‘lhe buildings of the ancient Collége du Plessis,
in which the faculties were placed, being in a state of gene-
ral dilapidation, he obtained from the government, a grant
of the Sorbonne for their use; and as it was highly impor-
tant that the lectures should not be interrupted during the
removal, he exerted all his activity, incessantly visited the
architect appointed to direct the works, and reiterated his
own inspections, till the object was accomplished. The
Faculty of Sciences owe the funds they possess for a cabinet
of natural history, and for the purchase of various instru-
ments, entirely to M. Cuvier’s efforts. The appointment
of medical officers, who understood natural history, to the
government vessels, was solely due to his suggestions, as
well as that ofattaching collecting travellers to the museum
of the Jardin des Plantes. 'The treasures brought home by
the Uranie, the Coquille, and other ships, are proof of the
excellence of the first plan; for the officers were delighted
to employ their leasure in drawing, describing, and preserv-
ing the objects they met with in the course of their expedi-
tion. ‘The rapid increase of the museum at the Jardin, dur-
ing the life of M. Cuvier, speaks to plainly for the latter to
need further comment. ‘Che mode of appointing professors
is a complicated question in France: some are partizans for
election by vote, some support nomination by established
high authority, and others, succession. Each of these me-
thods is attended with inconvenience; and voting, which
theoretically may appear to be the best, has not realized the
hopes of those who caused it to be adopted. It gives an
opportunity for all to enter the lists; and men of consum-
mate skill and experience do not like to find themselves
placed in contact with those just issued from the schools;
who, with all the fire and confidence of youth, frequently
obtain their wishes by their briliancy, while those of much
more real merit are left far behind. ‘The other methods are
particularly open to private feelings, or a hability to place
men of inferior merit in the professor’s chair. 'T’o obviate
these inconveniences and abuses, M. Cuvier created that
method which, in France, is called aggregation. A defeat
is of comparatively little consequence to young students ;

BARON CUVIER. 137

and therefore, according to this institution, directly they quit
the schools, they undergo an election in order to become
agregés : these agregeés are assistants to sick or aged _profes-
sors, during their attendance on whom, time and opportunity
are given for the developement of their talents, and to make
themselves known. At the death of the professor, the fa-
culty to which he belonged presents three candidate agregés
to the minister, whose choice determines the appointment.

Long convinced that those destined to different adminis-
trative functions should follow a course of study especially
adapted to these duties, in the same manner as they do for
the learned professions, M. Cuvier proposed to the Simeon
ministry to create a new faculty, or particular school of ad-
ministration, on the models of those which have long ex-
isted in Germany, and to which faculty he desired that his
name should be attached. The project was prepared, and
nearly put in execution, when the above minister retired,
and from the succeeding party nothing further could be
obtained than a chair for administrative law, and even that
was very shortly suppressed.

All the minor schools of France were likewise the objects
of M. Cuvier’s earnest solicitude ; and, notwithstanding the
frustration of many of his plans, from an obstinate attach-
ment to old methods, he succeeded, by reiterated appeals to
government, in establishing among them professors of his-
tory, living languages, and natural history. In order to
further primary instruction, he caused the institution of pro-
vincial committees for superintending the schools of their
own departments, thinking that emulation would thus be
excited among those called to the office, consequently their
zeal redoubled, and their endeavours carried to a greater
extent. In some provinces this plan was attended with the
greatest success, but in others party spirit and consequent
dissension paralysed even the most active. Asa further
proof of the ever-watchful cares of M. Cuvier, and the ex-
tent to which he carried his anxious endeavours, [ now quote
a discourse delivered after his death. In this we have not
only the words of the superintendent of an important es-
tablishment, but his own in evidence of the extreme inte-
rest he felt in this primary branch of education. This dis-
course emanated from M. Reynal, Rector of the Academy

mM”

138 MEMOIRS OF

of Bourges, and was delivered at the distribution of prizes
in the protestant school of Arniéres.

“ My dear children,—the faithful followers of our church
have spared sufficient from their own wants to build a
school fer you, and to afford you all that is desirable for your
instruction. The academy (of Bourges) has associated
itself with them in this work of devotion and self-sacrifice ;
it has already done much, and will do still'more, by appeal-
ing in your behalf to the benevolent protection of the uni-
versity. Yousee, my dear children, that you have friends
and benefactors every where. But, alas! he is no more—
he who held the first rank among them! A premature
death has snatched him from science, from literature, from
your brethren, from us, from all mankind. 'The whole of
the learned world deplores his loss. You are too young,
my children, to have heard him spoken of in our village,
but the great man who tried to do you so much good, who
unceasingly thought of you, was called George Cuvier. Re-
collect this name, and mention it every day in the prayers
that vou address to heaven. He has often written to me,
‘Do not, Monsieur le Recteur, lose sight of our school at
Arniéres les Bourges. I recommend the scholarsof it to you
as my brothers, as my best friends. Instil into them submis-
sion to their parents, respect for the property of others, candour
and justice. ‘These are the virtues and duties of all religions.
Let benevolence and affection reign between them and the
children who inhabit the same village, and who, like them,
live by their labours in the fields. God loves and proiects
them all with equal goodness; with the same hand he blesses
the sweat of their brow, and their harvests; let them,
therefore, behave towards each other like children of the
same father.’

“ My conscience tells me, that towards you, my children,
and all the young people confided to my care, | have ful-
filled my duties, and most especially the views of your pro-
tector, the great man whom we lament. ‘This place is very
humble, my voice is very feeble for the praise of such a life.
The eulogium of George Cuvier, of the same religion as
yours, will often appear in your books, and will be pronounced
by our learned bodies and our most celebrated orators.
However, a word sincerely uttered within these walls to the

BARON CUVIER. 139

memory of one so dear to us, of the learned and virtuous man
who deigned to honour me with his goodness, has not ap-
peared to me to be out of place, or without interest ; and it
is as much for your sake as for my own that it becomes
me here to speak of George Cuvier, and to lead you in him
to preserve the recollection of one of your most ardent bene-
factors. Let this short eulogium serve you asa lesson, and
teach you to be always grateful to those who wish us well,
and especially to those who do us good.”

During M. Cuvier’s direction of the Protestant Faculties
he became one of the Vice-Presidents of the Bible Society,
and caused the creation of fifty new curés, which had very
long been wanting. ‘The protestant churches required
fresh regulation and discipline, and for this purpose he col-
lected the opinions of the different pastors of these churches,
placing in this matter, as well as in all others, great confi-
dence in the counsels of experience; and had, in conse-
quence, drawn up the plan of a new law, which was to
have been laid before that session in which he did not live
to take his*seat. The feeling with which the ministers of
his own religion generally viewed him will be proved by
the following extract from the discourse delivered at his
funeral by M. Boissard, minister of the protestant church in
the Rue des Billettes. “Let us not forget those long aban-
doned chapels re-opened to our youth in the royal colleges ;
let us not forget the abundani distribution of religious and
moral books under his superintendence. Now that his
voice is extinct, let us fervently ask of our God, let us ask
in the name of our dearest moral interests, in the name of
our eternal welfare, to raise up other voices, which may
speak with the same eloquence, the same wisdom, and the
same authority. We have lost him who, with inviolable
attachment, honoured the creed of our forefathers; whose
great name, whose immortal labours, shed so much lustre
over our churches ; who burdened himself with our eccle-
siastical rights in perfect disinterestedness of spirit, and with
the purest and most extensive benevolence. What do we
not owe to that penetrating glance which revealed to him
all that was wanting in our institutions, and under which
privations we had so long groaned! How many meliora-
tions took place in a few years; with what wisdom and

140 MEMOIRS OF

charity he examined our requests; and what a new order
of things would have arisen at his bidding, hed the Almigh-
ty suffered him to continue amongst us! a

M. Cuvier’s elevation to the Chamber of Peers was but
a just tribute to his long and important services; and he
took his place among his new colleagues with that calm
dignity which was not likely to be ruffled by any accession
of rank. It was wholly unsolicited, and. at the moment,
produced any thing but joy in himself or his family; for it
appeared likely to draw him still more into public life, at a
period when all around was stormy and uncertain. [t ts
well known how the Chamber of Peers felt it their duty,
for the preservation almost of their existence as a body, to
vote in the agitation question of inheritance;* and, of
course, M. Cuvier acted according to his maxim of prefer-
ring the Jesser evil, when evil was unavoidable; but when
unshackled by such imperious circumstances, he defended
the University, and various questions of finance, in a man-
ner which showed how little he courted popularity. The
only work of his hands which remains in the archives of
this Chamber relates to corn laws, and was written in a very
few hours. But these few hours’ reflection, on so arduous
and delicate a subject, sufficed him for the production of an
exact and extensive statement of the facts which rule these
laws in France, of the facts which ought to rule them, of the
legislation applied to them during a certain number of
years, and, lastly, the considerations which operated in fa-
vour of the measures proposed in the Chamber, and which
were finally adopted.

A remarkable proof of the comprezhensiveness of his legis-
lative talents occurred in this Chamber during his short
career there. A question, purely military, was discussed,
and so many arguments took place that the affair became
confused, and resisted all the efforts made to come toan ex-
planation. M. Cuvier rose, immediately set the whole in a
clear, strong point of view, so as to enable the desired ar-
rangements to take place; and this, not in consequence of
any deduction made from the reasoning of the moment, but
from a thorough knowledge of the matter in all its bearings.

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

BARON CUVIER. 141

The loi de cumul (law against accumulation)* would
have deprived him, had it been enforced, of one-third of
his income; but it was comtemplated by him with the ut-
most calmness, and, even at the moment when the en-
forcement appeared to be inevitable, he prepared himself to
continue in the performance of all his high functions in
the state, without the slightest pecuniary profit. His fami-
ly cheerfully adopted his views, from the feeling that
these duties formed a variety of employment, which was a
relaxation to such a mind, and consequently beneficial to
hishealth. The loi de réductiont (law of reduction,) which
attacked all places, did take away a considerable part of his
revenue; but this excited no other emotion than a regret
that it must curtail the exercise of that hospitality for which
he had so long been remarkable.

A trifling circumstance happened during the latter part
of M. Cuvier’s legislative duties, which, as it was errone-
ously supposed to have been connected with his death, may
as well be properly explained here. While defending that
incessant object of his anxious cares, the University, before
the Chamber of Deputies, in his office of Commissaire du
Roi, his voice was much interrupted by a violent cough,
on which several of the members came to him, to beg that
he would go into the Salle des Conferences, and drink
some water: one of the deputies put M. Cuvier’s arm
within his, and led him so fast, that his foot slipped down
a step, and he almost fell to the ground. The hand,
however, that had caused the mischief, supported him ;
but he was immediately surrounded by most of those in
the Chamber, who, evincing the deepest interest, obliged
him to seek some refreshment in the adjoining room. The
strongest proof that no malady had caused this appearance
of accident, is, that, ten minutes after, he mounted the

* This law was to prevent any one man from benefiting by the sala-
ries attached to a number of places at one time; and, in fact, was intend-
ed to prevent the holding of an accumulation of employments by any
one individual.

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

142 MEMOIRS OF BARON CUVIER.

tribune for the second time, and, with his usual force and
clearness, for more than an hour, once again defeated the
enemies of the University. The malady, which in reality
laid his mortal frame in the dust gave no warning; and,
from the moment it appeared, left no doubt, in his own
mind at least, of its destructive result.

BART bee

in the first part of this volume, I have by a narrative of
the principal events of the Baron Cuvier’s life, endeavour
ed to show his progress towards fame and honour, and to
expose the circumstances which tended to the perfection of
one of Nature’s noblest productions. In the second, I
have, notwithstanding the difficulties of such a task, and
a strong feeling of my own weakness, tried to give an out-
line of M. Cuvier’s principal works, of his most important
discoveries, and the immense advantages that science has
derived from each. In the third, I have studied to lay
before the reader all the good he effected, and all the evil he
prevented during his administrative career ; and, by so do-
ing, I have set forth all his titles to the grateful admiration
of mankind. Iam now about to attempt a more particu-
lar description of the character, the private virtues, and do-
mestic habits of the great man, whom J have so often ad-
mired in the midst of his family, surrounded by friends,
and performing the honours of his house to a numerous
circle. composed of men-of all countries and professions.
But before [ enter into these details, I feel called on to refute,
by a reference to known facts, those accusations which
have but too often been brought against him. Men rarely
pardon superiority, even when (as in M. Cuvier) itis ex-
empt from all kinds of vanity; still more rarely do they
pardon those acquisitions of rank and fortune which ne-
cessarily result from this superiority ; and the great number
of places held by M. Cuvier, caused him to be accused of an
ambition for power, by those who reckoned his employ-
ments, without reckoning his merits, or without recognizing
how useful his talents were to France.

In order to set aside this unjust charge, it will be suffi-
cient, here, to recall some of the occurrences scattered
through these pages; and which lead me to affirm, that,
so far from having sought or solicited places, he nobly re-

144 MEMOIRS OF

jected several which were offered to him. 'T'wice, at diffe-
rent periods, did he refuse the directorship for life of the
Museum of Natural History, and at another, to enter the
ministry,—an advancement which at that time no one
thought of repulsing ; and the greater number of the fa-
vours conferred, reached him during his absence, and were
wholly unexpected. It was during his journey to Mar-
seilles that the Institute appointed him perpetual secretary ;
it was while in Holland that he received from Napoleon,
an endowment, with the title of Chevalier; he was at
Rome when the Moniteur informed him of his having
been named Maitre des Requétes ; in England, when he
was elected to the Académie Frangaise; it was in the
midst of studious retirement, when he had, as it were, shut
out the world, that the rank of Peer of France crowned
his administrative career; and, lastly, on the day of his
death, his nomination to the Presidency of the entire
Council of State was presented for the signature of his so-
verelon.* It may, therefore, be safely said, that honours
sought him; and now, that his decease has left so great
a void in every institution, in every learned and adminis-
trative body which could boast of his name on their lists, and
most of which were so powerfully served by his labours, |
trust that his actions, and the noble disinterestedness of his
character will be acknowledged, and that the breath of en-
vy will no longer dare to mingle with the testimonials of
admiration which are to be heard on all sides.

There is yet another sort of reproach, which the inven-
tors of systems overthrown by M. Cuvier have dared to
bring against him. ‘These, wounded by self-love, or con-
tradicted in some cherished fancy, have not feared to attri-
bute to pride, or even to a feeling of jealousy, very far from
his noble heart, the reserve with which he admitted certain
explanations of the phenomena of nature, and the resist-
ance he offered to limited or defective theories, the errors and
insufficiency of which his penetration and profound know-
ledge instantly led him to discover. This resistance, how-

* I donot reckon among these honours the election to almost every
learned body in the two hemispheres; for of course, all were anxious to
pay so just a tribute to M. Cuvier’s pre-eminence.

BARON CUVIER. 145

ever, was one of the most beautiful parts of his character, for
it proved his love of truth, and the ardour with which he
knew how to defend it, even at the expense of his own
tranquillity ; and he fearlessly exposed himself to personal
enmity, in order to turn students away from such views
the imevitable result of which was, to stop the progress of
science, by giving a false direction to the minds of those
engaged in her cause. Speaking of theories in general,
he said, a little before his death, “I have sought, I have
set up some myself, but I have not made them known, be-
cause I have ascertained that they were false, as are all
those which have been published up to this day. I affirm
still more ; for I say, that, in the present state of science, it
is impossible to discover any, and that is why I continue
to observe, and why I openly proclaim my observations.
This alone can lead an author to the discovery of that fact
on which he can build a true and general theory. ... This
fact,” added he, “ is perhaps of little importance in itself ;
but, with regard to theory, it will become the principal
fact, the key-stone to the arch. Therefore it must be
sought, science must march; but we must take care that
she does not march in a retrograde direction, as she has
sometimes done, and as some naturalists lead her at present.
We ought to labour, not with the object of supporting a
theory,—because, then, the mind being pre-occupied, will
only perceive that which favours its own views,—but with
the object of discovering the truth ; because the truth’ will
be deduced from true theories, and true philosophical prin-
ciples ; the truth being, in itself alone, the whole of philo-
sophy.”*

It seems that both the French and the Germans claim
M. Cuvier as their countryman; and it would be difficult
to decide whether the place which gave him birth, or that
which was the scene of his labours, has the best title
to call him her own.+ His family, as we see in the

* M. Laurillard.

{ The year in which M. Cuvier was born was a remarkable one, for in
it Napoleon Buonaparte came into the world, who made as great a revolu-
tion im the political face of Europe, as M. Cuvier did in that of science,

though not equally lasting. The Duke of Wellington, Mr. Canning, M.
de Chateaubriand, Sir Walter Scott, Sir James Mackintosh, alike drew

their first breath in this year.
N

146 MEMOIRS OF

previous pages of these memoirs, was originally Swiss;
and, being driven to Montbéliard in consequence of
professing the reformed faith, settled there as a remote
province of Germany, and where some of the mem-
bers of it held important charges. His uncle was a minis-
ter of the Lutheran religion, and his father an officer in a
Swiss regiment then in the service of France. J am led to
dwell on these two circumstances, from errors committed by
several writers, who have stated M. Cuvier to have entered
the church; and also a mistake made by M. Decandolle, a
very old and esteemed friend of M. Cuvier, and the learned
botonist of Geneva. ‘This gentleman asserts, in his funera!
éloge of M. Cuvier, that the latter entered the army, which
assertion is wholly without foundation; and it is very pro-
bable that both errors have arisen from some confusion be-
tween the father, the uncle, and the son.

There is yet another erroneous report, which I am de-
sirous of correcting; and that is, the late developement of
M. Cuvier’s talents for natural history. So far is the fact
contrary to this, that, even while at the preparatory school
of Montbéliard, his greatest happiness was to read Buffon,
to copy the plates, and to colour them according to their de-
scriptions. When arrived at Stuttgardt, his studies took a
higher flight ; and he chose that faculty which allowed him
to pursue his favourite occupation. As age increased, his
boyish pleasure became, as it were, a passion, and he inces-
santly pored over all the books he could find on this subject.
He dissected the only things within his reach, such as in-
sects and plants; he made an excellent collection of the
latter, and diseovered several species, in the neighbourhood
of Stuttgardt, which were not previously known to exist
there. He kept a number of living insects in his room, con-
stantly feeding them, and watching their habits. It was
there that he made many of the drawings spoken of in Part
If., and which form several thick volumes. I have two of
these, which show that the hand of the master guided him
even at this early age. Knowing the great interest he felt
in such productions, in one of my visits to Paris, I took a
collection of original drawings for his inspection. Every
evening during my stay there, he asked for my book, and
one morning entered the breakfast-room with a huge quarto

BARON CUVIER. 147

in his hands, and, putting it before me, said, “ Permit me
to enter the company of your friends: choose any two of
these pages, and I will cut them out for you. I amused
myself with drawing these figures when I was a student at
Stuttgardt; and if 1 were to draw them now, I could not
make them with greater accuracy.” ‘This same facility for
designing continued thr oughout life ; and it is scarcely pos-
sible to do justice by words to his anatomical drawings, in
which he had a manner peculiar to himself of expressing
the cellular tissue. His delineations of quadrupeds were
equally extraordinary ; and, when lecturing he would turn
to the black board behind him, with the chalk in his hand,

and, speaking all the time, he would rapidly sketch the sub-
ject of his discourse, sometimes beginning even at the tail,

proportioning every part with admirable precision, and pre-
serving the character to such a degree, that even the species
could be immediately pronounced. ‘The taste for drawings
of natural history extended to all branches of the art, and
it was his delight to visit every collection or exhibition of
the kind. During his last visit to England he went to
Hampton Court, and it was with difficulty he could tear
himself away from the cartoons of Raffaelle, in order to keep
a dinner appointment. ‘The admiration he felt for this most
wonderful of all pamters amounted to a species of worship ;
and no one, whether an artist or not, ever comprehended or
delighted in the beauties of Raffaelle more than did M. Cu-
vier. His long stay in Italy had refined and confirmed his
judgment ; and when he was accused of want of proper
curiosity for not extending his route as far as Naples, dur-
ing either of his journeys to Rome, he deemed it sufficient

to reply, “At Naples I should not have found the Vatican !”

He was very sensible to the merits of our great Lawrence,
to whom he was personally attached, and who had con-
stantly sent him the engravings from his works; and also
to the conception and genius of our Martin, whose engrav-
ings had always excited his attention in Paris, and whose
gallery he visited when last in London. Woe, however, to
the artist who committed a fault in anatomy or perspective ;

his quick eye immediately fastened on it, even in the midst
of the praises excited by colouring or expression. To view
the exhibitions of the works of our celebrated portrait pain-

148 MEMOIRS OF

ter, which took place after his death, was one of the objects
of M. Cuvier’s second j journey to this country ;. and he fre-
quently passed hours in the British Gallery, where they had
at that time been collected. He had personally known many
of those represented by this life-giving painter ; he felt, as he
contemplated them, as if he were again in their presence.
and related a thousand anecdotes, which he was delighted
to recall.

There was yet another talent of M. Cuvier’s, which
manifested itself in his earliest youth, and which, though
trifling in extent, was a further proof of his facility for re-
taining a recollection of form. It was the power of cutting
out, in pasteboard or paper, whatever object had excited his
attention ; anda remarkable proof, not only of his dexterity,
but of his quick perception, occurred when he was about
six years of age. A mountebank passed through the village,
who played various slight-of-hand tricks, and was called in
by M. Cuvier’s uncle to amuse the children assembled at his
house. A “fontaine de Héron,”* which ran and stopped at
his bidding, a poniard which he apparently plunged into his
arm and drew out again, dripping with blood, amused and
astonished the spectators of all ages who happened to be
present: but George Cuvier examined every thing with
deep attention, and evinced little or no surprise ; for he ex-
plained the manner in which the fountain played, and the
mechanism of the poniard, accompanying his explanations
by cutting the whole out in paper.

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

“The young Cuvier has shown, 1st, just notions of
Christianity, well adapted to his years. 2dly, A good
knowledge of general history and geography. 3dly, Solid
notions of logic, arithmetic, and geometry. 4thly, Consider-

* So called by the French, because it was invented by Hero, of Alex-
ae who lived 120 years before Christ. Its English name, I believ e,

fa fouritain of circulation.”

BARON CUVIER. 149

able skill in making Latin themes and verses, and in read-
ig the New Testament in Greek.” At the moment of en-
tering the academy, he was ignorant of German; but, as
we have already seen, in less than a year, he secured the
prize for that tongue. He always retained the faculty of
speaking this language, to which he added Italian, in both
of which he conversed fluently. He read several others, and,
among them, English; his mability to speak which, I have
often heard him regret. He was accused of knowing more
of it than he chose to own; but there could be no motive
for concealing what would have afforded him pleasure to
make use of; besides which, he has often tried to put little
sentences tosether in jest, and ask if they were right. If
a reply was given in the affirmative, he would threaten to
begin in earnest one day, and probably. would have _per-
formed his intention, had not his daughters always acted as

able interpreters in this respect. His knowledge of the dead,
languages was not only a source of exquisite enjoyment to
him, but was absolutely necessary tohis profound researches.
He seldom alluded to Greek or Latinauthors in conversation,
but there was a classical precision and elegance of expres-
sion, even in his ordinary discourse, which can scarcely be
acquired by other means than the study of such writers.
The minor accomplishments which he added to these mental
stores are almost surprising, becatise each must have taken
time toacquire. Among them wasa thorough knowledge
of heraldry, which it is well known, contains a large portion
of detail.

There cannot be a stronger proof of the precocious per-
fection of M. Cavier’s universal talents than the occurrences
of that part of his life which was spent in Normandy. One
or two of these (in addition to those already mentioned) I
have extracted from the eloquent éloge delivered by Dr. Pa-
riset at the late meeting of the Institute.* “A citizen of
Caén, who was a great amateur of natural history, pos-
sessed a magnificent collection of,the fishes of the Mediter-
rannean: the‘instant M. Cuvier heard of it, he flew to in-

* Dr. Pariset is one of the physicians to the Hospital of la Salpétriére,
and, as Member of the Academy of Medicine, composed and read the
above éloge which was heard with the most rev erential attention, and fol-

lowed by “enthusiastic applause.

ni”

150 MEMOIRS OF

spect the treasures, and, after several visits, he, by means of
his pencil, that precious instrument of observation and me-
imory, became in his turn the possessor of the collection ; for,
in natural history, the faithful representation of an object
is the object itself. Nearly six years passed in this man-
ner, terribly, indeed, to France and Europe, but calmly and
profitably to M. Cuvier. Nevertheless, the Revolution insi-
nuated its jealousies and suspicions even as far as his abode ;
and, the impulse having been given from the capital, one
of those societies, or unions, was about to be formed at Fé-
camp, which armed the people against themselves, and
were attended with the most injurious consequences. M.
Cuvier saw the danger, and represented to the owner of
Fiquainville, and the neighbouring landholders, that it was
to their interest to constitute the society themselves. "This
wise counsel was adopted ; the society was formed ; M. Cu-
vier was appointed secretary; and, instead of discussing
sanguinary politics at its meetings, it devoted itself solely
‘to agriculture’ I have already related how M. Tessier
happened to have taken refuge in the neighbourhood, and
how he was detected and accosted by M. Cuvier; I have
now toadd, from M. Pariset’s éloge, that, after this greeting,
they became the greatest friends ; ‘and that the perfect con-
fidence which existed between them, in a measure, render-
ed them necesssary to each other.’ M. Tessier daily dis-
covered in his young friend new talents and perfections, and
was astonished at the sight of his numerous productions.
On the 11th of February he wrote as follows to M. de Jus-
sieu :—‘ At the sight of this young man, IJ felt the same de-
light as the philosopher who, when cast upon an unknown
shore, there saw tracings of geometrical figures. M. Cuvier
is a violet which has hidden itself under the grass ; he has
great acquirements, he makes plates for your work, and I
have urged him to give us lectures this year on botany. He
has promised to do so, and I congratulate my pupils at the
Hospital on his compliance. I question if you could find a
better comparative anatomist and he is a pearl worth your
picking up. IT assisted in drawing M. Délambre from his
retreat, and [ beg you to help me in taking M. Cuvier from
his, for he is made for science and the world.’ Such were
the words of M. ‘Tessier ; and I may be pardoned for intro-

4

BARON CUVIER. 151

ducing them here, as they do more honour to our own spe-
cies than the history of great battles and conquests.”

M. Cuvier’s grave and frequently absent air has been re-
peatedly mistaken for an excess of reserve and coldness, and
thus it was often impossible for a mere casual observer to
form a correct judgment of the high degree of benevolence
which he evinced to all who required his assistance, the in-
dulgence with which he viewed the follies of youth, and, in
fact, the errors of all mankind. I may go still farther, and
say the mirth which, before the death of his daughter, was
to be traced in the laugh which seemed to proceed from the
very heart. No one enjoyed a ludicrous circumstance more
than he did; no one was happier at the performance of a
comedy ; for, when I was living in Paris, a ridiculous after-
piece was frequently represented on the stage, called “ Le
Voyage a Dieppe,” in which the professors of the Jardin
des Plantes were brought forward in the most amusing way
possible ; and such was M. Cuvier’s uncontrollable risibility
at its performance one evening, that the people in the pit se-
veral times called out to him to be quiet.

The nerves of M. Cuvier were particularly irritable by
nature, and frequently betrayed him into expressions of im-
patience, for which no one could be more sorry than him-
self, the causes of which were immediately forgotten ; and
the caresses and kindnesses which were afterwards bestow-
ed, seldom seemed to him to speak sufficiently the strength
of his feelings at his own imperfection. Any thing wrong
at table, to be kept waiting, a trifling act of disobedience,
roused him into demonstrations of anger which were oc-
casionally more violent than necessary, but which it would
have been impossible to trace to any selfish feeling ; even
the loss of his own time was the loss of that which was the
property of others; and, where his mere personal inconven-
lence was concerned, he was seldom known to give way to
these impetuous expressions. It was almost amusing to see
the perfect coolness with which the servants, more especially
about his person, occasionally obeyed his orders, or replied
to his injunctions without exciting a hasty word from him.
His impatience, however, was not confined to little annoyan-
ces ; but if he expected any thing, or any body, he scarcely
rested till the arrival took place. If he had workmen em-

152 MEMOIRS OF

ployed for him, the alteration was done in his imagination
as soon as commanded ; and thus in advance himself, he
unceasingly inspected their labours, and hastened them in
their tasks. He would walk along the scene of operation,
exclaiming every instant, “ Dépéchez vous, done,” (make
haste, then,) and impeding all celerity by the rapidity of his
orders. Perhaps, at the moment of pasting the paper on
the walls, he brought in a pile of engravings to be put on
afterwards, and which, in‘fact, were often nailed up before
the paste was dry. But although he was perfectly happy
while thus engaged, he could not be alone, and, fetching
his daughter-in-law back as often as she escaped from him,
he associated her in all his contrivances. On unpacking a
portrait of this ever ready companion by Sir Thomas Law-
rence, and sent over from England, he happened to be pre-
sent ; and, in order to prevent him from seeing it by degrees,
and so destroying the effect, she was obliged to hold her
hands over his eyes, or he could not have resisted the desire
to look. When he sent a commission to this country,
every succeeding letter brought an inquiry as to its execu-
tion, or a recommendarion to use zealous despatch. I must
add, that the thanks were as often repeated as the injunc-
tions. It is, perhaps, a curious inconsistency, that a man
who submitted to such tedious and minute labour as he had
all his life undergone, should be thus impatient when the
activity of others was in question ; but it must be recollected,
that he found very few who would work as he did; and
that, while so working, his mind was absorbed by every
step which was taken to ensure the wished-for result, and
had no time to bound over the space between thought and
execution. ‘“ M. Cuvier possessed in the highest degree,
that patience which has been said to be always necessary
for the discovery of some important truth, and which, ac-
cording to Buffon, and according to M. Cuvier himself, con-
stitutes the genius of a well-ordered mind. No labour, how-
ever minute, irritated him, when he believed it to be requi-
site for the-attainment of his object; and this patience was
really a virtue in that man, whose blood would boil at a
false reasoning, or a sophism,—who could not listen to a few.
pages of a book that taught nothing, or a work that bore the
marks of prejudice or passion, without feeling the greatest

BARON CUVIEFR. 153

irritation ; and so far did he carry his patient investigation,
that he even examined the least details of those elementary
books which were to further instruction, and directed the
construction of several of the geographical maps of M. Sel-
ves, himself colouring the models.” *

In person M. Cuvier was moderately tall, and in youth
slight ; but the sedentary nature of his life had induced
corpulence in his later years, and his extreme near-sighted-
ness brought on a slight stoop in the shoulders. His hair
had been light in colour, and to the last flowed in the most
picturesque curls, over one of the finest heads that ever was
seen. ‘Ihe immense portion of brain in that head was re-
marked by Messrs. Gall and Spurzheim, as beyond all that
they had ever beheld ; an opinion which was confirmed
after death. His features were remarkably regular and
handsome, the nose aquiline, the mouth full of benevolence,
the forehead most ample; but it is impossible for any de-
scription to do justice to his eyes. They at once combined
intellect, vivacity, archness, and sweetness ; and long before
we lost him, I used to watch their elevated expression with
a sort of fearfulness, for it did not belong to this world.
There are many portraits published of M. Cuvier, formed of
various materials ; but, with the exception of the medallion
of M. Bovy, the copper medal, the plaster bust, the litho-
graphic print by M. le Meunier, and the oil painting by Mr.
Pickersgill, they scarcely convey any just idea of M. Cu-
vier’s expression: in fact, some of the prints are positive
caricatures. ‘I'he bronze bust, modelled, and so handsomely
presented to the Royal Society of London, by the celebrat-
ed sculptor, M. David, was made from a cast taken after
death. All praise must be given to this bust as a work of
art; but it is very evident that M. David’s feelings, as an
artist, Were most susceptible to the classic beauties of M. Cu-
vier’s head and features (which, in fact, were remarkable, )
and, by dwelling with too much stress on these, he has lost
sight of the benignity of the countenance.t The bronze

* Laurillard.

} Since writing the above, I have seen the bust worked in French mar-
ble, after the same model, and given to Madame Cuvier by this generous
and public-spirited artist. It is an improvement on that cast in bronze,
and now stands on a pedestal in the room, and on the very spot where the

i

"154 MEMOIRS OF

bas-relief, taken from the bust, of course possesses the same
faults. Mr. Pickersgill’s portrait is decidedly the most per-
fect of all: it is there possible to form a correct notion of
the sharply-defined features; the eyes that so well spoke
the serious and great thoughts within, that rose above this
world ; the mouth, and the carriage of the head. To use °
Mr. Pickersgill?s own words, he tried “ to catch the essence

of the man,” and his skill has proved adequate to the great
task before him.*

That love of order which so prevailed in great things,
was, by M. Cuvier carried even into the minutiz of life.
His dissecting dress, it is true, was not of brilliant appear-
ance, but it was adapted to the occasion ; in this he would
frequently walk about early in the summer mornings, in the
open alr, or pace up and down the galleries of anatomy, but
on all other occasions his toilette was adjusted with care ;
he himself designed the patterns for the embroidery of his
Court and Institute coats, invented all the costumes of the
University, and drew the model for the uniform of the coun-
cil, which drawing accompanied the decree by which it was
established. I was very anxious to see him in his Univer-
sity robes, and having mentioned my wish, he ca me into the

mortal remains of the great original were laid till they were removed for
ever.

* IT cannot quit this subject entirely, without placing Mr. Pickersgill in
a still more admirable light than in his profession of artist. Feeling the
value of the above-mentioned portrait, after she had lost her noble hus-
band, Madame Cuvier was naturally desirous of possessmg a copy of it,
from the hands which had so well known how to execute the first. Iwas
requested to negociate concerning the possibility of sacrifice of time, price,
&c.; and the result was, that Mr. Pickersgill himself made the wished-for
copy, which was not inferior to the previous likeness, and presented it to
the Baroness, saying, that his services could be no affair of money between
him and the-widow of the great Cuvier. The sad delight with which the
survivors accepted this generous gift was the highest reward which the do-
nor could receive, and is best pourtrayed by their own expressions to me ;
“Crest lui ; c’est sa pensée, noble, pure, élevée, et souvent mélancolique,
quoique toujours bienveillante et calme, comme la vraie bonté. C’est son
ame dans ses yeux. C’est le grand homme passant sur la terre, et sa-
chant qwil y a quelque chose au-dela.” (“It is he; it is his noble, pure,
elevated mind, often melancholy, though always benevolent and calm, like
real goodness. It is his soul in hiseyes. It is the great man passing over
this earth, and knowing there 1s something beyond.”) I may be forgiven
for relating these anecdotes of the private feelings of the living, when it is

considered how refreshing and useful it is to meet with such actions in this
world of self-interest.

BARON CUVIER. 155

room where I was sitting, when decked in all the parapher-
nalia for a grand meeting. The long, flowing gown of
rich, violet-coloured velvet, bordered with ermine, added to
his height, and concealed the corpulence of his figure ; the
cap, of the same materials, could not confine his curls; and,
brilliant with his ribands and his orders, the outward ap-
pearance fully accorded with the internal man. — His refined
taste was often manifested in the buildings of the Jardin,
made according to his direction, and was extended to the
minutest details. "he menagerie for the wild beasts is classi-
cally beautiful, and was built entirely after his designs and
under his inspection, while he held the annual office of di-
rector. ‘The new wing of the Museum, which joins the
Corps de Garde, was also added by his orders during one of
these directorships.

The manners of M. Cuvier, by their dignity, resembled
the ancient deportment of French people, divested of its
extreme ceremony ; for, accustomed to mingle with the
highest of ail classes and countries, and naturally desirous
of paying a just tribute of respect and good-will to every
body, he was likely to be generally polished and courteous,
though in company, at the houses of others, sometimes
stately. That stateliness was often deemed stiffness ; and
it must not be denied that real stiffness was assumed on
some rare but necessary occasions. Frequently, however,
[ believe that it arose from timidity ; for it wore off the in-
stant he sawany one inclined to lay aside the restraint which
his presence very often, and most needlessly, imposed. On
the contrary, when he saw people afraid of him, he fancied he
must have caused it by something on his side ; and thus a
counter-reserve was produced, that seldom ceased with either
party. ‘To the young, however, he was universally encour-
aging, and they could not more entirely win his heart than
by talking, in his presence in their naturally open manner.
Towards females he was particularly kind and attentive,
distinguishing all whom he thought worthy of more than
the general respect he paid to the sex, even appealing to
them on various occasions, delighting in their sensible re-
marks, and listening to their anecdotes with the greatest in-
terest. His attentions to his guests, either when visitors for
afew hours or a few weeks, were surprisingly thoughtful ;

156 MEMOIRS OF

if he could, he would have prevented their wishes, inquir-
ing if they had all they required in their own rooms, sum-
moning them to the drawing-room, if, by chance, any one
arrived whom he thought they would like to see, expressly
inviting those to his house who had excited either their cu-
riosity or interest, and devising every thing he could think
of for their enjoyment or entertainment. At the time when
Paris was half mad about the Greeks, he suddenly re-ap-
peared, after he had taken leave of us, with a beautiful
Greek boy, the son of Colocotroni, whom he had accidentally
metas he quitted the Jardin; but, fancying that we should
like to be acquainted with this intelligent, animated child,
he took the trouble of coming back on purpose to present
him to us. He frequently walked, or rode home in a cabriolet,
in order to lend his carriage to the ladies of his house ; if a
wish was expressed to see a scarce book that his own im-
mense hbrary did not contain, he would bring it home from
the Institute for inspection ; and, while carrying on the
most important duties of the savant and the legislator, he
yet found time to think of others and their trifling desires.
Now and then, when the summer lessened some of his
heavy public duties, he would take a walk with us ; and no
schoolboy, with permission to go out of bounds, could set
off with more delight than we all did. Sometimes he
would confine himself to the Jardin ; and in one of these
more limited excursions he was attracted by the brilliant ap-
pearance of the Coreopsis tinctoria, which was then new in
France, and which he saw for the first time during this ram-
ble. He in vain inquired the name of us, and we continu-
ed our walk. On returning to the house, he quitted us at
the door, and, in about half an hour, he re-appeared, and,
stopping, for an instant, as he descended to his carriage, he
said, “ Ladies, I have been to M. Deleuze (a learned bota-
nist of the Jardin,) and ascertained the name of the flow-
er:” he then gave it us, genus, species, country, and the
reason for its appellation, and, making his bow, retired, per-
fectly happy at the knowledge he had acquired and im-
parted. As in this trifling circumstance, so was it in all
things; he never hesitated saying when he did not know ;
he never rested till he did know, if the means of acquiring
the information were within his reach ;, and, once known,

BARON CUVIER. 157

he was most willing to impart it to those who wished to
learn. The facility with which he placed knowledge in the
reach of others was one of the most precious vifts with
which Heaven had endowed him ; for half the value of a
brilliant or a useful idea is lost, unless we have the power of
communicating it as it appears to ourselves. Sometimes he
would enliven the evening by proposing a party to eat ices
at one of the famous cafés ; and, on one occasion, he in-
sisted on showing me, as an Englishwoman, Hoe happy
the lower classes of French are on their féte days ; and,
passing the barrier close to the Jardin des Plantes, he led
us among the guinguettes” outside, where the people were
dancing ‘and singing, and making merry. He delighted
in their mirth, stopped to witness it, and, several times
turning round to me, asked me if the English knew any
thing of such light-hearted enjoyment. It is said of some cele-
brated person, that no one could take shelter from the rain
with him, under a shed, for a quarter of an hour, without
deriving some information from his discourse. ‘This obser-
vation may be equally applied to M. Cuvier ; for after these
little excursions, intended solely for diversion, it was fre-
quently a matter of surprise to find that something had been
learned, either by way of history, character, language, or
moral conduct : so elevated, yet so fascinating, was the
tone of his urirestrained conversation.

M. Cuvier’s hours of audience generally took place be-
fore and after breakfast, and he was accessible to every
body ; for he said, “when people lived at such a distance
as the Jardin des Plantes, they had no right to send any
one away who came so far to request their advice or as-
sistance.” I have seen the young and the old, the widow
and the orphan, the poor and the rich, throng his door, all
in the security of being well received. I met an unhappy
woman one morning, crying as she came down stairs; and
on asking her what was the matter, she replied, “ It is not
M. Cuvier who has made me cry; but it is because even he

* Many of these guinguettes consist of nothing but a mere shed, with
a little space in front, where the guests sit and drink weak wine, (vin ordi-
naire,) sugar and water, lemon: ade, & cc., dance, sing, and play at dominoes,
They are ‘generally placed outside the barriers to avoid the duty paid on
provisions of every kind as they enter Paris.

6)

158 MEMOIRS OF

cannot help me that I am in such trouble ;” evidently
thinking that, if he could not serve her, she had no hope.
The meal-times were always anticipated by his family and
friends with the greatest pleasure ; for then it was that
questions were asked, and histories related on all sides. As
if knowing the few opportunities there were of conversing
with him, he suffered himself to be constantly interrupted,
and never hesitated giving the desired information con-
cerning public or private circumstances ; and frequently,
when the former were not immediately comprehended, he
would set forth the subject in ail its bearings, till it was
perfectly understood. ‘lhe breakfast took place generally
at ten; but M. Cuvier had almost always risen at seven
or even before that time, had prepared his papers for the
day, had arranged the occupations of his assistants, and
had received most of bis visitors. Some intimate friends
frequently called on him at this hour, because they were
sure to find him at home. His usual practice was to read the
newspapers as he ate his breakfast, or look over the books
for the use of the primary schools, sent for his inspection.
Still, if one of the family were missing, he would inquire
for the absent person with the utmost solicitude ; and even
if the conversation were unusually animated, he insisted
upon knowing the whole, though he se Wok raised his
eyes from the paper. After breakfast. was finished, he
dressed, and then came the routine of his numerous occu-

ations; and when it was his turn to be Director of the
Jardin, before going to the Council, &c., he would take his
way, amid the trees, to the Museum of Natural History,
followed by secretaries, aide-naturalists, students, &c., bear-
ing the treasures which had just been finished in the stuf
fing laboratories, and which were arranged in their respec-
tive cases under his superintendence. His carriage was
generally punctual to the moment appointed, and no one
was allowed to keep him waiting; and, in fact, no one
would do so, if possible to avoid it, for it vexed him exceed-
ingly ; though I used to think sometimes that I saw a
faint smile on his countenance, when we flew down stairs,
our gloves in our hands, and our shawls streaming after us.
The instant he had given his orders, he would thrust him-
self into a corner, and resume his reading or writing, suf-

BARON CUVIER. 159

fering us to talk as much as we pleased. Many of his
most brilliant memoirs were finished as he thus rode
through the streets of Paris; and he had a lamp fixed to
the back of his carriage, that he might read on his return
home at night from his visits; but he found it so distress-
ing to his eyes, that he could not long make use of it, All
others, however, were delighted at the disappointment, be-
cause he was by it cheated into a few more moments of
repose.

Privileged as Mr. Bowdich and myself were to inspect
the vast treasures in his collections, and in his library, at
our leisure, we yet found it much more agreeable to take
the books home with us; frequently we required the very
volume to which he had been referring before his departure,
and which was generally left open upon his table, to be
again used on his return; for he had the happy faculty of
resuming his subject at any moment, in any place, and at
any part, even in the middle of a sentence. Waiting,
then, till his carriage was driven from the door, bearing him
away for several hours to his administrative duties, we went
up to his room, took possession of the book, and inquiring
the hour of his return, fled back with it five minutes be-
fore it was wanted. ‘I'o be sure, in consequence of our
having been a little too late on one or two occasions,—a
circumstance which he bore with surprising good humour,
—we used occasionally to see some of his household arrive
at our hotel, in breathless haste, to inquire for a volume
which had long been missing. Generally speaking, we
were innocent of the misdemeanour ; but such was his in-
dulgent goodness to us, that he not only facilitated every
desire, every endeavour to obtain improvement, but even
allowed us to publish, for the first time, some of his own
drawings of Mollusca. He had no idea of exclusion to-
wards any one who he thought would make a proper use
of the materials he could furnish ; so that we had only to
ask, and orders were given to the keepers of the galleries to
take out of the cases any object which was needed for our
closer examination,*

* Though perhaps somewhat foreign to my subject, I cannot forbear
making use of the first opportunity aiforded me of expressing my grati-
tude to many connected with this vast and magnificent establishmen‘.
M. Desfontaines, M, de Jussieu, M. Brongniart, M. Geoffroy St. Hilaire

160 MEMOIRS OF

Before dinner, M. Cuvier would occasionally give a few
minutes to his family, by joining the assembled party
in Mine. Cuvier’s room. On the sound, ‘“ Madame est
servie,” he would offer his arm to his wife, and leading her
to her seat, all gathered round them both at this once happy
table. M. Frederic Cuvier, his son, and very often one or
two intimate friends who came by chance, would increase
the circle, and the most delightful conversation would en-
sue. On proceeding to the drawing-room, M. Cuvier
would occasionally gratify those present by an hour’s stay
among them before he retired to his occupations, or paid his
visits. Occasionally he would bring forth some old book he
had picked up ata stall on one of the Quais, and boasting
of his bargain, read some passages; or, bidding some one
read to him, he compared different editions. At a more re-
cent period, if he had any of M. Champollion’s letters from
Keypt, he would station us at different tables, with volumes
of the great work on Egypt, and verify the descriptions of
the antiquary step by step. He never was weary of re-
search ; though, it must be owned, we occasionally wished
for the sound of the carriage-wheels, to interrupt our em-
ployment. He never suffered people to be idle in his house ;
and no sooner did friends station themselves among the
family for a time, but he would come into their rooms with
folios and paper in his hand, and set them to trace plates for
him; and seldom forgot, on his return home from his duties
abroad, to inquire how much had been done. ‘Lo be sure,
it was a pleasure to work for him, he was so grateful for the
service, and so happy when the task was properly completed.
His thirst for knowledge took an unbounded range, and the

M. Frederic Cuvier, M. Chevreuil, M. Valenciennes, M. Deleuze, and
M. Laurillard, thank God! still live to receive this public testimony of
my sense of their kindness. M. Haty, M. Latreille, M. Thouin, M,
Royer, M. Dufresne, W. Vanspaendonck, M. Lucas, have been called to
another world, where human feelings are of no avail. Our pass-word for
every thing was, “de la Maison Cuvier ;” and night and day we wander-
ed about this little world as if we had been among its permanent inhabi-
tants. Great have been the changes since then ; and now the master
spirit of this beautiful abode is no more, I shall never look on it again, and
fancy that it has retained its perfection. During my late visit, not even
the subordinate employés whom I had known in former times, ‘but, after
their respectful greeting, lamented the death of their great patr on, 1
words that betokened the sincerest grief,

BARON CUVIER. 161

inventions and enterprises of other countries were as inter-
esting to him as those of his own. Every letter to me, at
the time that the accidents happened to the tunnel under
the 'Thames, contained inquiries concerning it: the steam
carriages, rail-roads, suspension-bridges, and public institu-
tions, were all subjects of correspondence : he read, or made
others read to him, all the attempts that had previously
taken place to perfect the same undertaking ; and when a
person from the country in which the scheme was going for-
ward came to see him, he was prepared to converse with
the stranger as one deeply learned in the matter. He was
one day talking toa gentleman high in office at one of our
national establishments; and after mentioning the ex-
penses of the Museum, Wc. at the Jardin des Plantes, he
to the great surprise of his companion, stated to a fraction
the former, and actual costs of the British Museum. He
could not bear to be inactive for an instant; and once,
while sitting for a portrait, which was to face the quarto
edition of his “ Discours sur les Revolutions du Globe,”
Mile. Duvaucel read to him the “ Fortunes of Nigel. ”
He had a map of London at his elbow, which the artist
allowed him occasionally to consult ; and the Latin of King
James often excited a smile, which was a desirable expres-
sion for the painter ; but unhappily the engraver was not a
faithful copyist, and this published portrait is anything but
a resemblance.

A change of occupation was a relaxation to M. Cuvier
perhaps the greatest of all was conversation ; but there
was yet a third, which was to throw himself on a sofa, hide
his eyes from the light, and listen to the readings of his
wife and daughters, and, occasionally, that of M. Lauril-
lard. By these nightly readings, for they only took place
when he could not work any longer, he became acquainted
with the literature of the whole civilized world ; and no
one was better able to appreciate it, for he looked on it as
a picture of the human mind, and judged by it of the
state of civilization in the country where the various works
were published. He frequently thus renewed his acquain-
tance with books read long before, in order to mark the
changes which had taken place in the lapse of years ; and
the number of volumes perused in this way was immense,

o*

162 MEMOIRS OF

though the reading seldom or never lasted more than two
hours. "Chere was yet another advantage which attended
this manner of closing the day by such a rational amuse-
ment: it served to quiet his mind, which had often been
previously excited; and ensured him that undisturbed re-
pose, which fitted him for succeeding labours, and which
his appearance the next morning gener ally indicated that
he had enjoyed. Could that man’s slumbers be otherwise
than sweet, who had passed every moment in the fulfilment
of the most important duties of life? The services thus
rendered to M. Cuvier were often returned by him in kind ;
for if any member of his family were ill, he would take his
books and his newspapers to the bed-side, and read aloud
by the hour together. He never slept except at night ; and
I never heard of any one surprising him in such a state of
inaction at any hour in the day, in his house or carriage,
whatever might have been the fatigue he had undergone.

No one was ever more sensible to kindness than M.
Cuvier, and the slightest services always received acknow-
ledgments beyond their value; it is not surprising, then,
that in the same character there should be an equal sensibi-
lity to ingratitude. 'T’o find any one thus return the affection-
ate cares he had bestowed, was a real affliction ; and as an
instance, among several others, [ recollect that, durimg one
of my visits to his house, he appeared most unusually sad,
and all the efforts to amuse him were repaid by a mournful
smile. All his family were aware that no calamity could
have produced this, and guessed it was some trouble con-
nected with others, into which they had, perhaps, no right
to inquire ; and they were not wrong in their conjectures,
Walking home one evening quietly with his daughter-in-law,
in reply t to her remarks upon his dejection, he confessed that
a favourite friend and pupil had, from motives of self-inter-
est, publicly sided with his enemies, and it was an afflic-
tion to which he could not easily reconcile himself.

The benevolence of M. Cuvier was evinced in every form
by which it could be serviceable to others; and students
themselves have told me, that he has found them out in
their retreats, where advice, protection, and pectinigny assis-
tance were all freely bestowed. Frequently did his friends
tax him with his generosity, as a sort of imprudence ; but.

BARON CUVIER. 163

his reply would be,—“ Do not scold me, I will not buy so
many books this year.” Many anecdotes have been told
me of his purse being made a resource, not only for the
advantage of science, but for those who had fled to France
to avoid ruin in their own country; but even my anxiety
to make known all M. Cuvier’s good qualities ought not to
interfere with the sacredness of private misfortune. In his
endeavours to do good, he was always most ably seconded
by the females of his family, whose active benevolence has
called upon them many a blessing from the hearts. they
have cheered by their kindness and bounty.

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

to)
alarmed me, and then solemnly bade me beware of the false

colouring which I was but to apt to receive from the per-

son in question ; but fearing I should feel hurt, he instantly
resumed his kindness of manner, and lamented that the
real goodness of heart, the great abilities, and power of
divesting himself of partiality, in my friend, should so often
be obscured by the desire of saying what was clever or
prilliant.

Two other great traits—perhaps, [ ought rather call
them perfections—belonging to M. Cuvier, were, a total ab-
sence of all self-conceit and all resentment, both of which
led to a remarkable uniformity and kindness in performing
the duties of social life. ‘That he had preferences, and that
these preferences were sometimes formed from the first in-
terview, was true ; and few people possessed of quick and
ardent ieelings can avoid these sudden impressions; but a

164 MEMOIRS OF

contrary feeling led him merely to avoid intercourse, and
did not, in any manner, extend towards the real welfare of
the individual. Even the annoyances and disappointments
he met with in his public career left not one grain of bitter-
ness in his soul; and he generally laid the fault to the igno-
rance, rather than the bad feeling, of the offenders ; saying
of them,—“'They are more to be pitied than blamed, for
they know not what they do.” No one knew better how
to soften a refusal; and, whatever might be his reasons,
he took care that his opinion should not wound the feelings
of any applicant for his favours. During one of my visits
to his house, a gentleman, anxious to obtain the vote of
M. Cuvier, as serviceable in procuring a public employment,
applied to me to intercede with my noble host. I felt that
I had no right to do so, and mentioned my dilemma to
Madame Cuvier, at the same time expressing my vexation,
that such advantage should have been taken of my inti-
macy. This being repeated to M. Cuvier, he laughed at
the scruples which had withheld me from conversing with
himself on the subject, and then desired me to reply to the
applicant, that he never sufiered the ladies of his family to
interfere in such matters. When I left the room in order
to do this, he called me back, as if a sudden thought had
struck him; and he added,—“ Tell your friend, if he wishes
to see me, or ask my advice, I shall be happy to receive him
at ———— ;” evidently wishing to save me from the pain of
an abrupt refusal to one whom I might esteem.

The soirées of Baron Cuvier, which took place every
Saturday evening, and were sometimes preceded by a par-
ty, were the most brilliant and the most interesting in Paris,
There, passed in review, the learned, the talented, of every
nation, of every age, and of each sex; all systems, all opi-
nions, were received; the more numerous the circle, the
more delighted was the master of the house to mingle in
it, encouraging, amusing, welcoming every body, paying
the utmost respect to those really worthy of distinction,
drawing forth the young and bashful, and striving to make
all appreciated according to their deserts. Nothing was
banished from this circle but envy, jealousy, and scandal ;
and this saluon might be compared to all Europe ; and not
till the guest had repassed the Rue de 'Tournon, or “the

BARON CUVIER. 165

Seine, could he again fancy himself in the capricious capital
of fashion, or time-serving show.” It was at once to see
intellect in all its splendour ; and the stranger was astonish-
ed to find himself conversing, without restraint, without
ceremony, with, or in presence of, the leading stars of Ku-
rope: princes, peers, diplomatists, savants, and the great
host himself, now receiving these, and now the young stu-
dents from the fifth patir_of stairs in a neighbouring hotel,
with equal urbanity. No matter to him in which way they
had directed their talents, what was their fortune, what was
their family; and wholly free from national jealousy, he
alike respected all that were worthy of admiration. He
asked questions from a desire to gain information, as if he
too were a student; he was delighted when he founda
Scotchman who spoke Celtic ; he questioned all concerning
their national institutions and customs; he conversed with
an English lawyer as if he had learned the profession in
England; he knew the progress of public education in
every quarter of the globe; he asked the traveiler an infi-
nity of things, well knowing to what part of the world he
had directed his steps; and seeming to think that every
one was born to afford instruction in some way or other, he
elicited information from the humblest individual, who was
frequently astonished at his interest in what appeared so
familiar to himself. One thing used particularly to annoy
him ; which was, to find an Englishman who could not
speak French. It gave him a restraint of which many
have complained, but which, on these occasions, solely arose
from a feeling of awkwardness on his own part at not be-
ing able to converse with his foreign guest. No one ever
rendered greater justice to the merit of his predecessors or
contemporaries than M. Cuvier. “ Halfa century,” he said
“had sufficed for a complete metamorphosis in science ;
and it is very probable that, in a similar space of t'me, we also
shall have become ancient to a future generation. These
motives ought never to suffer us to forget the respectful gra-
titude we owe to those who have preceded us, or to repulse,
without examination, the ideas of youth; which, if just,
will prevail, whatever obstacles the present age may throw
in their way.” ‘This was a delightful manner of satisfying
every body with himself: the naturalist, from a remote

166 MEMOIRS OF

province, or perhaps from a colony at the other end of the
world, was no longer ashamed to think that he had not kept
pace with the march of science in the capital, and had
been poring over obsolete systems ; and the young student ;
fresh from the Universities, was not afraid to utter the ob-
jections, the fallacies, or the inaccuracies, he fancied he had
detected in his perusal of more recent authors.

The repast. whichclosed these evening entertainments was
served in the dining-room, and, certainly, at the most de-
lightful tea-table in the world. <A select few only would
stay, though M. Cuvier sometimes pressed into the service
more than could be well accommodated ; and while the tea,
the fruit, and refreshments of various kinds were passing
round, the conversation passed brilliantly with them. —De-
scriptions of rarities were given, travellers’ wonders related,
works of art criticized, and anecdotes told; when, reserving
himself till the last, M. Cuvier would narrate something
which crowned the whole; and all around were either
struck with the complete change given to the train of
thought, or were forced to join in a general shout of laugh-
ter. One evening, the various signs placed over the shop
doors in Paris were discussed ; their origin, their uses, were
described: and then came the things themselves. Of
course, the most absurd were chosen ; “and, last of all, M.
Cuvier said that he knew of a bootmaker who had caused
a large and ferocious looking lion to be painted, in the act of
tearing a boot to pieces with his teeth. This was put over
his door, with the motto, “ On peut me dechirer, mais ja-
mais me découdre.”* 1 was in Paris when the celebrated
picture, painted by Girodet, of Pygmalion and the Statue,
was exhibiting at the Louvre. It caused a general sensation;
epigrams, impromptus, were made upon it without end;
wreaths of flowers, and crowns of bays, were hung upon it:
so that it became a universal theme of conversation.
Among other topics, it was one evening introduced at M.
Cuvier’s; when M. Brongniart (the celebrated mineralogist,
and director of the Royal Manufactory of China at Sévres, )
found fault with the flesh, which, he said, was too transpa-
rent; Baron de Humboldt (the learned Prussian traveller,

* “Tmay be torn, but never unsewn.”

BARON CUVIER. 167

who had lately been occupying himself with the chemical
experiments of M. Gay-Lussac) objected to the general tone
of the picture, which, he said, looked as if lighted up with
modern gas; M. de Prony (one of the mathematical pro-
fessors of the Ecole Polytechnique, and also director of the
Ecole des Ponts et Chaussées*) found fauit with the plinth
of the statue; and many gave their opinion in the like
manner, each pointing out the faults that had struck him in
this celebrated performance; after which, M. Cuvier said
that the thumb of Pygmalion was not properly drawn, and
would require an additional joint to those given by nature,
for it to appear in the position selected by the painter. Upon
this, M. Biot (the mathematician and natural philosopher,
who had remained silent all the time,) with mock solemni-
ty summed up the whole, showing that every body had been
more or less influenced by his peculiar vocation, or favourite
pursuit; and concluded by saying, that he had no doubt
but that every one of them, if they met Girodet the next
day, would congratulate him on the perfect picture he had
produced. On these evenings, one or two old, or particularly
cherished friends would remain, talking after the rest had
taken their departure: the hours passed, the clock would
strike two before the little coterie thought of separating; and
even then M. Cuvier would say, “ Nay, gentlemen, do not
be in such a hurry, it is quite early.”

But I am now speaking of that period which preceded the
death of the angel Clementine, so named after the dear and
excellent mother, who had so well guided the earliest youth
of her father. This pure creature was so good herself, that
she never suspected evil in others, and was the light of
every body’s existence in this hallowed circle. Her likeness
to M. Cuvier was very striking ; and though her eyes and
hair were of a darker and different shade, his every feature
could be traced in her countenance, softened into feminine
beauty. Her talents, her acquirements, her modest opinion
of herself, her sound judgment, her active charity, her ex-
treme piety, seemed to mark her as a being who could not
long remain in this world of sin: she died of rapid con-
sumption, which disease, though probably, long engendered

* A school resembling those for our civil engineers.

168 MEMOIRS OF

in her constitution, which had already given one or two
alarms, and probably made hidden progress, only manifest-
ed itself in its decided form six weeks before her death, amid
the joyful preparations for her marriage. From this mo-
ment a mournful change took place in every arrangement;

the broken-hearted mother was long, very long, unable to
receive company, never again to mingle in it abroad; and
the unceasing and heroic efforts of her surviving daughter,
and the affectionate cares of her husband, failed to rouse her.
At length, occasional society at his own house became ab-
solutely necessary to M. Cuvier, and the good wife consent-
ed to that which the good mother had refused ; the saloon re-
mained closed in which she had seen the perfection of mor-
tal loveliness breathe her last, and one of the libraries was
opened to company. A few old friends alone took imme-
diate advantage of the permission to resume their visits;
these, in time, brought others; but the change had come;
and to those who had known Clementine, the soirées were
stripped of one of their principal charms. In vain did M.
Cuvier exert himself more than ever to welcome his guests;
vain was the conversation of his daughter-in-law, the most
fascinating and brilliant that perhaps ever fell from the lips
of woman ; there sat the dejected mother, evidently making
an effort over herself, her thoughts but too plainly in an-
other sphere; and the cause of her abstraction was whis-
pered to strangers, with mournful looks and faltering
tongues, by those who had beheld the being that had filled
up the vacancy. With a violent effort, that closed saloon
was once more opened to M. Cuvier’s friends ; but it seemed
to be only the preparation for the dying breath of the parent.
That saloon is now always open, ‘and the bereaved widow
and her devoted child always inhabit it, surrounded by the
portraits of those they loved, clinging to the shadows and
recollections of those that are gone, and living in the past, as
the sole source of their melancholy enjoyment.

After the death of his own daughter, M. Cuvier became,
if possible, more than ever attached to Mademoiselle Duvau-
cel. He had never made any difference in his conduct to-
wards her and Mademoiselle Cuvier; but the loss of the lat-
ter necessarily increased his reliance on her cares, and an
anxiety was added to his affection, which manifested itself

BARON CUVIER. 169

on all occasions. If she were ill, ten times in the course of
the day would he mount up-stairs to inquire at her bedside
how she felt ; if she coughed it seemed to give a pang to his
very heart ; and, on her part, could her redoubled devotion
towards him and her mother have filled up the void, their
great loss would have been repaired.

In 1830, as we have already seen, M. Cuvier nail his
last visit to England, in which journey he was accompanied
by Mlle. Duvaucel, who was willingly spared by her mo-
ther; for so fondly had these two beings watched over him,
that he almost required the one or the other to be constantly
with him. This visit happening as it did during the period
of the last revolution, caused several reports in this country
of their having fled to avoid danger. Hearing these surmises
whispered about the hotel where they resided, M. Cuvier’s
faithful valet ventured to repeat them, and asked his master
if he were really ignorant of what was about to take place.
“ Do you think, Lombard,” replied M. Cuvier, mildly, “ that
if had been aware of that which was about to happen, I
should have left Madame Cuvier?” 'To those who knew
the man, this answer was the best refutation to such suppo-
sitions. ‘Ihe fact was, that the opportunities of absenting
himself were rare, and feeling the necessity of coming to
England for scientific purposes, more especially connected
with his great work on fishes; feeling also that a change
was required by his constitution, so overcharged with men-
tal labour, a mere apprehension was not likely to deter him
from a project which had been delayed in its execution by a
concurrence of untoward circumstances. Till M. Arago
was elected in the place of Baron Fourrier, M. Cuvier could
not quit his Secretaryship of the Academy of Sciences, the
duties of which were doubled by the death of the latter; and,
further than that, it was requisite for him to read his admi-
rable éloges on Sit Humphry Davy and M. Vauquelin, at
the next ‘general meeting of the Institute, and the postpone-
ment of that meeting threw another obstacle in the way of
his immediate departure. I have already mentioned how
deceived he was by the apparent tranquillity of Paris on the
morning in which he left it, and how he was induced to
proceed even after he had determined to return from Calais.

As I have here spoken of the meeting of the Academies

P

170 - MEMOIRS OF

on the 26th of July, I will stop to correct an error which has
obtained much circulation in England. A personal quar-
rel is said to have taken place on that day, before the meet-
ing, between M. Cuvier and M. Arago, in which the former
was, with difficulty, prevented from drawing his sword. he
only foundation for this report was, that M. Arago was
obliged on this occasion to read an éloge on M. Fresnel, in
which he had introduced a very violent paragraph against
the Clermont-Tonnerre ministry, which paragraph might
easily have been converted into a marked reference to the
then existing government. M. Cuvier suggested to M. Arago
that it would be more wise and prudent to leave out this part
of the éloge, and at such a moment to avoid all causes of
excitation. He gave his advice inthe most friendly man-
ner; but, as M. Arago defended his paragraph with consi-
derable warmth, M. Cuvier ceased to urge the matter.
After this, the two secretaries appeared together before the
public assembly, in the Hall of the Institute, and when the
ceremony was concluded they dined together at M. Cuvier’s
house, and passed the evening most amicably in each other’s
society, without an idea that their mere difference of opinion
would cross the Channel in the shape of a dreadful and al-
most murderous quarrel.

The first intention of the travellers was to proceed by
way of Dover; but, to please Mademoiselle Duvaucel, M.
Cuvier ascended the river, and landed at the Tower stairs.
Often did he congratulate himself, afterwards, on this com-
pliance, which afforded him a view of the banks of the
Thames, and the thousands of vessels which float on its
surface, and of which no foreigner can possibly form an
idea without actual inspection. The object of one of M.
Cuvier’s first walks, after his arrival in London, was to see _
all the new caricatures contained in our shop windows ; for
he was a warm admirer of our performances in this art, and
already possessed a voluminous collection of the best which
had appeared. ‘They afforded him more than mere amuse-
ment, for he considered them as curious documents of the
moral and political histery of certain periods; and often,
in the midst of a serious conversation concerning the events
of our own times, or those immediately preceding us, he
would cite various circumstances which had been stamped

BARON CUVIER. 171

upon his recollection by the sight of an English caricature.
During the fortnight he was in London, he was in inces-
sant motion; but his anxiety respecting public events em-
bittered all his enjoyment. An accidental circumstance de-
layed one of Madame Cuvier’s daily epistles, and he scarcely
rested during these hours of expectation. One morning,
however, he flew into the room where Mademoiselle Duvau-
cel was with me, preparing to go out, entered without the
slightest ceremony, embraced us both, and exclaimed, “I
have heard from my wife;” then, reading the letter, he
asked us if we were not as happy as himself; and taking
an affectionate leave, as if his heart was quite full, he
hastened to an appointment at the British Museum. He
made a great many notes, and several drawings, while
here, relative to his Fossil Remains and Ichthyology, but
contrived a few hours for visiting. ‘The enlightened and
amiable Baron Seguier, the Consul-General of France, was
then living, and the little party assembled several times at
his house, where the events then taking place in their own
country were constantly discussed, and where these able
men predicted much of that which has since occurred. M.
Cuvier went to Richmond also, of which he had so fre-
quently heard in terms of praise: the day was rather stormy,
but with intervals of brightness, which added to the effect
of the scene; and he observed, that he could not wonder,
when he saw such a sky over such a country, at the per-
fection to which the English had carried their landscapes
in water colours. He had intended re-visiting Oxford, and
seeing Cambridge, with the latter of which he was only ac-
quainted by report; but the curtailed period of his stay did
not permit him to enjoy these pleasures. Never, however,
did any one profit more entirely by every hour than he did.
-Accustomed to consider his insatiable desire to see and know
every thing as a virtue, he left no means untried to satisfy
his curiosity ; he rose at six, visited on foot various parts
of London, which he had never before seen, then returning
to breakfast, he entered his carriage with his companion,
and went to the Parks, the exhibitions, collections, &c. He
was every where pleased with the reception he met with,
though it was a matter of regret to the English that so few
persons chanced to be in the metropolis to do bim honour,

172 MEMOIRS OF

One amusing mark of respect was a source of great enter-
tainment, and for its drollery alone do I offer it to the reader.
During the absence of his valet, M. Cuvier sent for a barber
to shave him. 'The operation being finished, he offered to
pay the requisite sum ; but the enlightened operator, who >
happened to be a Gascon, bowed, and positively refused the
money, saying, with his comic accent, “he was too much
honoured, by having shaved the oreatest man of the age,
to accept any recompense.” Hardly surpressing a smile,
M. Cuvier felt bound to give him the honour to its full ex-
tent, and engaged him to perform his function every day
while he remained in London. It is scarcely necessary to
add, that the barber, in a short time, felt it a still higher
duty to consult prudence rather than empty honour, and
pocketed the amount due for the exercise of his calling.
Although occasionally subject to sight ailments, the
health of M. Cuvier, generally speaking, was good, and
his carriage was used by him more as a saving of time than
a matter of necessity; therefore the sudden summons he
received to quit his earthly labours, was an event for which
his friends and his country were not prepared. Never were
his intellectual faculties more brilliant; never was his great
mind more fully possessed of that clearness, that compre-
hensiveness, which so peculiarly marked it, than at the
time of his seizure. His life of temperance ‘and rectitude,
at the age of sixty-two, had preserved the corporeal exist-
ence unimpaired, and also contributed to the perfection of
his mental vigour; for more than forty years he had been
unremittingly labouring to perfect his great views in science
and legislature; and concerning the former he was about
to give to the world the results of his researches and reflec-
tions. “ His intention was to review all his works, and put
them on a footing with the last discoveries, and then to de- —
duce from them all the consequences, all the general prin- |
ciples, which appeared to him to emanate from such an as-
semblage of facts, though he did not think it possible, in
the present state of human knowledge to establish a general
theory. All his studies, all his meditations had convinced
him of the philosophical principle, that organized beings
exist for an end, for a special object; but he did not admit
any scientific theory, and with all his energy maintained

BARON CUVIER. 173

that it was not yet possible for any to be formed.”* But
even the entire publication of these facts, of these deductions,
was denied to us by the inscrutable ways of the Almighty; per-
haps we were not yet worthy of penetrating so deeply into
the mysteries of creation as had been given to this one gi-
gantic intellect, and I dare not call the death of M. Cuvier
premature, when I think that by so doing I should ques-
tion the decrees of that Providence to whom -we owe the
very existence of him whom we deplore, by whom that life
was lent to us to increase our sense of his wisdom, and to
enlightea us by its example.

M. Cuvier had sought forgetfulness of the storms that
were passing wtthout the walls of his peaceful abode, in a
greater devotion than ever to his home pursuits; that is, he
gave up his evening visits, and the few relaxations he had
permitted himself to enjoy. The cholera raged around
him, and he saw those fall who were younger and appa-
rently stronger than himself; those whom he loved, and
those whose services were essential to the state. Public
disturbances filled the streets of Paris, while pestilence stalk-
ed through the multitude in every direction. Secluding
himself, then, entirely from society, except that of his fa-
mily; after going through the daily routine of his public
duties, he returned to hislabours, with an intenseness,
which, added to his share of the pervading gloom, was
calculated to injure the springs of life. No one, how-
ever, could foresee its effects on his constitution; and
he himself said, that he had never worked with so much
real enjoyment;” and he rapidly advanced, not only
in the vast undertakings then begun, but in the pre-
parations for others. On Tuesday, the Sth of May, he
opened the third and concluding part of his course of lec-
tures, at the Collége de France, on the history of Science,
&c., by summing up all that had been previously said.
He forcibly inveighed against that heresy in natural histo-
ry, which derives-every thing in this vast universe from
one isolated and systematic thought, and shackles the
future of science with the fallacious progress of the mo-

* Laurillard.
p*

174 MEMOIRS OF

ment :* he pointed out what remained for him to say respect-
ing the earth and its changes, and announced his intention
of unfolding his own manner of viewing the present state
of creation ; a sublime task, which was to lead us, indepen-
dent of narrow systems, back to that Supreme Intelligence,
which rules, enlightens, and vivifies, which gives to every
creature the especial conditions of its existence, to that in-
telligence, in short, which reveals all, and which all re-
veals, which contains every thing, and which every thing
contains. In the last part of this discourse, there was a
calmness, a clearness of perception, an unaffected and un-
restrained manifestation of the contemplative and religious
observer, which greatly added to its force, and which invo-
luntarily recalled that book which speaks of the creation of
the earth and the human race. ‘The similarity was
avoided rather than sought; it was not to be found in the
words, but the ideas; and at once flashed across the minds
of his auditors, when the great professor declared, that each
being contains in itself an infinite variety, an admirable
arrangement for the purposes for which it is intended ;
that each being is good, perfect, and capable of life, each
according te its order and species, and in its indivi-

duality. In the whole of this lecture there was an omni- |

presence of the Omnipotent and Supreme Cause ; the ex-
amination of the visible world seemed to touch upon the
invisible ; the search into creation, necessarily invoked the
presence of the Creator ; it seemed as if the veil were to be
torn from before us, and science was about to reveal eter-
nal wisdom. Great then, was the effect produced by the
concluding sentences, which seemed to bear a_ prophetic
sense, and which were the last he ever addressed to his
audience. “ These,” said he, “will be the objects of our
future investigations, if time, health, and strength, are
given to me, to continue and to finish them with you.”
Those who were versed in human destiny, seemed to feel
that his sphere of action was even then placed out of this
world, and that he had pronounced his farewell. So near

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

BARON CUVIER. 175

the great and awful tribunal, what other words, what other
thoughts than those contained in this lecture, could have
so plainly shown the preparation already made for his
journey thither ?

I am told that the profound emotion occasioned by this
last discourse was universal, and that few left the hall with-
out an undefined feeling of sadness, and sentiments of re-
verence, far beyond the power of expression. On the same
day, M. Cuvier, as usual, attended a council of administra-
tion in the Jardin des Plantes, and bestowed his last cares
on that immense establishment, which owes so large a
portion of its treasures to his constant and active solicitude,
and to his extreme generosity. ‘“ By turns protected and
protecting, M. Cuvier had there resisted the political vicis-
situdes which changed all but the sacred asylum of men
and things. It would seem as if a special grace from Pro-
vidence had suffered him to remain, during thirty-eight
years of revolution, in the same place and with the same
occupations. ‘I'he great mind, the pure intention, the de-
voted and disinterested heart, ‘alone are suffered to effect
such miracles.”

In the evening of Tuesday, M. Cuvier felt some pain
and numbness in his right arm, which was supposed to pro-
ceed from rheumatism. On Wednesday, the 9th, he pre-
sided over the Committee of the Interior with his wonted
activity. At dinner that day, he felt some difficulty in
swallowing, and the numbness of his arm increased.
Never can the look and the inquiry he directed to his
nephew, when he found that bread would not pass down
his throat, be forgotien ; nor the self-possession with which
he said, as he sent his plate to Madame Cuvier, “Then I
must eat more soup,” in order to quiet the alarm visible on
the countenances of those present. M. Frédéric, the
younger, sought medical advice; and an application of
leeches was made during the night, without producing any
melioration. The next day (Thursday) both arms were
seized, and the paralysis of the pharynx was complete.
He was then bled, but without any benefit, and from that
moment he seemed to be perfectly aware of what was to
follow. He, with the most perfect calmness, ordered his
will to be made; and in it evinced the tenderest solicitude

176 MEMOIRS OF

for those whose cares and affection had embellished his—

hife, and for those who had most aided him in his scientific
labours. We could not sign it himself, but four witnesses
attested the deed. He sent for that good M. Royer, who
was so soon to follow him, to make a statement of the
sums he had expended, out of his private fortune, on the
alterations of the rooms behind his house, though the
affliction of this Chef du Bureau d’Administration was so
heavy as almost to disable him from doing his duty. M.
Cuvier alone was tranquil; and, perfectly convinced that
all human resource was vain, he yet, for the sake of the
beloved objects who encircled him, submitted without impa-
tience to every remedy that was suggested. The malady
augmented during the night, and the most celebrated medi-
cal practitioners were called in: emetics were administered
by means of a tube, but, like all other endeavours, they did

not cause the least alteration. Friday was passed in various, ©

but hopeless, attempts to mitigate the evil; and, perhaps,
they only increased the suffering of the patient. In the
evening the paralysis attacked ‘the legs ; the night was

restless and painful ; the speech became affected, though
it was perfectly to be understood. He pointed out the seat
of his disorder, observing to those who could comprehend
him, “Ce sont les nerfs de la volanté qui sont malades ;”*
alluding to the late beautiful discoveries of Sir Charles Bell
and Scarpa, on the double system of spinal nerves :f he
clearly and precisely indicated the changes of position
which the parts of the limbs yet unparalyzed rendered de-
sirable ; and he was moved from his own simple and com-
paratively small bed-room, into that saloon where he had
been the life and soul of the learned world; and, though
his speech was less fluent, he conversed with his physi-
cians, his family, and the friends who aided them in their
agonizing cares. Among other anxious inquirers came
M. Pasquier, whom he had seen on the memorable 'Tues-
day ; and he said to him, “ Behold a very different person
to the man of 'Tuesday—of Saturday. Nevertheless, I

* “The nerves of the will are sick.”
+ A month before his illness, he had read a paper at the Institute upon
a memoir of Scarpa’s, on this distinction between the nerves of will, and

those of sensibility.

BARON CUVIER. Li

had great things still to do. All was ready in my head ;
after thirty years of labour and research; there remained
but to write; and now the hands fail, and carry with
them the head.” M. Pasquier, almost too much distressed
to speak, attempted to express the interest universally felt
for him; to which M. Cuvier replied, “ I like to think so ;
I have long laboured to render myself worthy of it.” In
the evening, fever showed itself and continued all night,
which produced great restlessness and desire for change of
posture ; the bronchie then became affected, and it was
feared that the lungs would soon follow. On Sunday
morning the fever disappeared for a short time ; consequent-

ly he slept; but said, on waking, that his dreams had

been incoherent and agitated, and that he felt his head
would soon be disordered. At two o'clock in the day, the
accelerated respiration proved that only a part of the lungs
was in action; and the physicians, willing to try every
thing, proposed to cauterize the vertebra of the neck: the
question, Had he right to die? rendered him obedient to

their wishes; but he was spared this bodily torture, and

leeches and cupping were all to which they had recourse.
During the application of the former, M. Cuvier observed
with the greatest simplicity, that it was he who had disco-
vered that leeches possess red blood, alluding to one of his
Memoirs, written in Normandy. “ The consummate master
spoke of science for the last time, by recalling one of the first
steps of the young naturalist.” He had predicted that the last
cupping would hasten his departure ; and when raised from
the posture necessary for this operation, he asked for a glass
of lemonade, with which to moisten his mouth. After this
attempt at refreshment, he gave the rest to his daughter-in-
law to drink, saying, it was very delightfal to see those he
loved still able to swallow. His respiration became more
and more rapid; he raised his head, and then letting it
fall, as if in meditation, he resigned his great soul to its

Creator without a struggle.

Those who entered afterwards, would have thought
that the beautiful old man, seated in the arm-chair, by the
fire-place, was asleep ; and would have walked softly across
the room for fear of disturbing him ; so little did that calm
and noble countenance, that peaceful and benevolent

178 MEMOIRS OF

mouth, indicate that death had laid his icy hand upon
them, but they had only to turn to the despairing looks,
the heart-rending grief, or the mute anguish of those
around, to be convinced that all human efforts are unavail-

ing, when Heaven recalls its own.”

The perfect disinterestedness of M. Cuvier’s character, the
remarkable liberality of his disposition, the sums he so de-
lightedly bestowed on science, in a dearth of other proofs,
would all be established by the moderate fortune he left to
his family. After having filled such high offices in the
state; after having executed, under the magnificent govern-
ment of the empire, missions which a man thirsting after
wealth would have turned to his pecuniary advantage ;_ all
the fortune he amassed amounted but to four thousand
pounds sterling; his library had cost him a similar sum ;f

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

T To the books purchased by himself were added those published at the
expense of the Government, copies of which were always presented to him ;
and the numerous gifts he received from authors of all countries, who w ere
universally anxious to pay him this mark of respect, even if their works
did not treat of Natural History. Altogether amounted to more than nine-
teen thousand volumes, besides pamphlets, atlasses, &c., and many of
which contained his own notes. It was very desirable that this library
should remain entire, for the use of students; and such being Madame
Cuvier’s wish, the legatees, consisting of M. F. Cuvier, his son, ,M. Valen-
ciennes, and M. Laurillard, accepted the value of their portions as mere
books, and the Government agreed to purchase the whole. The sum was

voted at the same time as Madame Cuvier’s pension; and muchis it to be
regretted that the value of books has of late years so much diminished in
France: however itis much more vexatious, that no building can be found
to contain this collection, where it might be consulted in its entire state by
the public; and it is therefore to be divided between the Schools of Law and
Medicine, the Normal School, and the Jardin des Plantes, where many
volumes will enter as duplicates. The apartments in which these treasures
were contained, were a continuation of M. Cuvier’s own dwelling, and had
been origin: lly used for the forage of the menagerie. On this being re-
moved to the building called the Rotonde, Baron Cuvier asked permission
of the Board of Administration of the Jardin, to take these granaries into
his own hands, and convert them, at his own expense, Into a suite of
rooms. This cost him 16402, which gave him a right to ask for a dwell-
ing for his family after hisdeath; a right which was graciously confirmed
by his present Majesty. In these rooms the great savant carried on his
vast labours and meditations, working in each according to the subject on

BARON CUVIER. 179

and he never hesitated procuring any object of natural his-
tory at his own expense, original cost and freight included,
from every quarter of the globe; not for himself, but to pre-
sent it to the Museum: and if to these be added his hospi-
tality, and his generous assistance to others, the small
amount of the property he left behind him may be easily
accounted for. He desired to be buried without ceremony,
in the cemetery of Pére la Chaise, under the tombstone
which covered his daughter ; but it was not possible for such
aman to die without much public manifestation of respect
at the last sad ceremony. ‘lhe funeral procession was fol-
lowed by a deputation from the Council of State, presided
by the Keeper of the Seals; also from the Academies of
Sciences, of Inscriptions, of Medicine, of France; by mem-
bers of the two Chambers, the Ecole Polytechnique, &c.
The earthly remains were alternately borne by pupils from
the laboratories of the Jardin des Plantes, from the Schools
d@Urfort, of Law, and of Medicine, and first taken to the
Protestant Church in the Rue des Billettes. The pall was
supported by M. Pasquier, president of the Chamber of
Peers; M. Devaux, counsellor of state; M. Arago, secreta-
ry of the Academy of Natural Sciences; and M. Villemain,
vice-president of the Royal Council of Public struction.
Different members of the learned and legislative bodies, each
pronounced a funeral discourse over the grave, according to
the usual custom of the country. A monumental statue is
to be erected in the Jardin des Plantes, another at Montbé-
liard, the size and materials of which depend on the amount
of the subscriptions. 'The King has also ordered a marble
bust, by M. Pradhier, to be placed in the Institute ; and an-
other to be placed in the Galleries of Anatomy, by M. Da-
vid. M. Cuvier is succeeded by Baron Dupin (the elder) at
the Académie Francaise, and by Dr. Dulong* at the Aca-
démie des Sciences. M. de Blainville is appointed profes-
sor of comparative anatomy at the Jardin des Plantes.

which he was employed: they made his house appear large; but, in real-
ity, the habitable part of it was scarcely of sufficient extent for his comfort,
when it is considered. how many visitors he was there obliged, by his

places, to entertain. ;
* Since writing the above, M. Dulong has resigned his secretaryship,

on account of his health.

180 MEMOTRS OF

Many of his places remained unfilled, as if those, who
would otherwise be candidates, were afraid of the contest.
This one man held them all; rigidly performed all their
duties ; carried his benevolent and enlightened principles
with him into all his employments; scorned no detail
which could bear upon their improvement; saw, in one
glance, the influence which their progress would have over
society at large; and yet, while his mind was filled with
these great and general views, never, for one instant forgot,
that which belonged to his character as a father, a husband,
a brother, and a friend ; or that he had fellow-creatures who
needed his assistance. His public employments are now
separated ; and the occupiers may think themselves happy,
if they can, in their solitary succession, in some degree at-
tain the perfection which stamped his combined career.
The death of such a man, at such a period of his labours,
and at such a moment, scarcely seems to come within the
common routine of mortality, but to have been the result of
a special and chastening mandate from Heaven.

CHRONOLOGICAL LISTS.

CHRONOLOGICAL LIST

OF

THE PRINCIPAL EVENTS

OF

THE BARON CUVIER’S LIFE.

A. D.

1769. (August 23.) Born.

1779. Entered the Gymnase of Montbéliard.

1784. (May 4.) Entered the Académie Caroline, in the Universi-
ty of Stuttgardt.

i788. Left Stuttgardt to return to Montbéliard.

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

Normandy.

1793. Death of M. Cuvier’s mother.
1795. (Spring.) Came to Paris.

Appointed Membre de la Commission des Arts.

Appointed Professor at the Central School of the Pan-
théon.

( July.) Made assistant to M. Mertrud, and entered the
Jardin des Plantes; sent for his father and brother; com-
menced the Gallerie d’Anatomie comparée.

( December.) Opened his first course of lectures, at the
the Jardin des Plantes, on Comparative Anatomy.

1796. Made a Member of the National Institute.

CHRONOLOGICAL LIST

OF

THE PUBLISHED WORKS

1792.
1798.

OF

THE BARON CUVIER.

Mémoire sur Anatomie dela Patelle.

Mémoire sur le Larynx inférieur des Oiseaux. (Magasin
Encyclopédique. )

Mémoire sur l’Anatomie du grand Limacon. (Helix
Pomatia Lin.)

Notice ou Mémoire sur la Circulation dans les Animaux
a sang blanc.

Mémoire sur une nouvelle Division des Mammiferes.
(Magasin Encyclopédique.)

Mémoire sur une nouvelle Distribution, en six Classes, des
Animaux a sang blane.

Mémoire sur la Structure des Mollusques, et de leur Divi-
sion en Ordres.

1796. Mémoire sur le Squelette d’une trés grande Espéce de

Quadrupéde inconnue (Megalonix. )

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

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

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

Mémoire sur un nouveau Genre de Mollusque (Phyl-
lidia.)

184 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENTS.

A. D.

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

1800. Appointed Professor at the Collége de France, on which
M. Cuvier resigned the chair at the Central School of the
, Panthéon.
Elected Secretary to the Class of Physical and Mathe-
matical Sciences of the Institute.

CHRONOLOGICAL’ LIST OF WORKS. 18

A. D.
1797. Mémoire sur l’Animal des Lingules.

Note sur l’Anatomie des Ascidies.

Note sur les différentes Espéces de Rhinoceros.

Note sur les Narines des Cetacés.

Note sur les Rates du Marsouin.

Note sur une nouvelle Espéce de Guépe Cartonniére.

Elogé Historique de Riche.

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

1798. Tableau Elémentaire de l’Histoire Naturelle des Ani-
maux.

Mémoire sur les Organes de la: Voix dans les Oiseaux.

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

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

Mémoire sur les Ossemens qui se trouvent dans les
Gypses de Montmartre. (Ici M. Cuvier rectifie son Mé-
moire précédent, et annonce avoir reconnu trois espéces
distinctes de Pachydermes. )

1799. Notice Biographique sur Bruguieéres.

Mémoire sur les Differences des Cerveaux, considerés
dans tous les Animaux a Sang rouge.

Mémoire sur Organisation de quelques Meduses) Rhy-
zostome bleu. )

i800. Mémoire sur les Tapirs Fossiles de France.

Mémoire sur le Siren Lacertina.

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

Mémoire sur l’Ibis des anciens Egyptiens.

Mémoire sur Jes Ornitholithes de Montmartre. ©

Addition 4 lArticle des Quadrupédes Fossiles, ou est
indiqué PAnoplotherium, et une Espéce du méme Genre,
de la taille d’un Hérrisson.

Mémoire sur une nouvelle Espéce de Quadrupéde Fos-
sile, du Genre de l’Hippopotame.

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

Eloge Historique de Daubenton.

q*

186 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENTS.

1802. Named one of the six Inspector-Generals of Education
(Etudes.) . 4
Went to Marseilles, &c. to found the Royal Colleges.

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

i

CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 187°

A. D.

1801.

1802.

1803.

Eloge Historique de Lemonnier.

Mémoire sur une nouvelle Espéce de Crocodile Fossile,
des Environs de Honfleur.

Note sur des nouvelles découvertes d’Os Fossiles. (II
s’agit des Crocodiles de Honfleur, d’Altorf en Franconie, de
Provins, Département de ’Orme.) Ici M. Cuvier an-
nonce le découverte d’un septiéme animal dans le gypse
de Montmartre, un Carnassier (Canis. )

Mémoire sur les Dents des Poissons.

Eloge Historique de |’ Héritier. >

Eloge Historique de Gilbert.

M. Cuvier commenca les Analyses des Travaux de l’In-
stitut, qui étaient continués jusqu’a sa mort.

Mémoire sur /’Animal de Lingule, ?Animal de Bullea
aperta, et celui de Clio Borealis.

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

Kloge Historique de Jean Darcet.

Extrait d’un Mémoire sur les Vers qui ont le sang rouge.
Ici M. Cuvier annonce, que la plupart des Vers marins ont
le sang rouge, ainsi que les Lombrics; et donne la descrip-
tion du systéme circulatoire dans PArénicole, ou Lombric
Marin.

Extrait de la Description de PAnatomie de ?Ornithor yn-
chus p. par Home.

Mémoire sur les Serpules.

Articles Abdomen, Absorption, Accouplement, Acéphales,
Actinie, pour la Dictionnaire des Sciences Naturelles.

Mémoire sur le Genre Aplysia.

Mémoire sur les Ecrevisses connues des Anciens, &c.

Notice sur VEtablissement de la Collection d’Anatomie
comparée du Museuni.

Description Ostéologique du Rhinoceros Unicorne.

Description Ostéologique du Tapir.

Description Ostéologique du Daman.

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

Premier Memoire—Restitution de la Téte.

Second Mémoire—Examen des Dents.

Troisiéme Mémoire— Restitution des Pieds.

Mémoire sur les Os Fossiles des Environs de Paris.
ean Historique sur les Collections de lHistoire Natu-
relle

Note sur Anatomie de quelques Aplysies, observés pen-
dant un séjour 4 Marseille.

Mémoire sur la Pennatula Cynomorium, et sur les Coraux
en general,——. montre que la Pennatula Cyn. est com-
posée des plusieurs Animaux, avec une seule volonté, ce

188 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENTS.

‘AciDs "’ : \

1804. - Eldest son born and died.

Ww

CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 189

AD.
qu’on déduit de leurs mouvemens, qu’il a unité de nutrition,
et qu’on peut la regarder comme un seul animal a plusieurs
bouches. M. Cuvier étend la méme conclusion aux Zoo-
phytes fixés, quoiqu’ils différent essentiellement par l’ab-
sence du mouvement.

1804, Article Bec, pour la Dictionnaire des Sciences Naturelles.

Recherches d’Anatomie comparée sur les Dents.

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

Mémoire sur Hyale, sur un nouveau Genre des Mollus-
ques nus, intermédiaire entre |’Hyale et le Clio, et l’etablisse-
ment d’un nouvel Ordre dans la Classe des Mollusques.

Mémoire sur lHippopotame et son Ostéologie.

Mémoire sur les 'Thalides, et sur les Biphores.

Mémoire sur le Genre Doris.

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

Trois derniers Volumes des Lecons de ’Anatomie com-
parée.

Eloge Historique de Priestley.

Mémoire sur les Animaux auxquels appartenaient les
Pierres dites Nummulaires, ou Lenticulaires, et sur ceux du
Corne d’Ammon. (M. Cuvier attribue les Nummulaires con-
centriques 4 des osselets intérieurs d’un Zoophyte, voisin
des Porpites.

Extraites des Mémoires sur le Clio Borealis, l’Hyale, le
Pneumoderme.

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

Suite des Mémoires précédents.

Suite des Mémoires sur la Phyllidia et le Pleurobran-
chus.

1806. Eloge Historique de Cels.

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

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

Mémoire sur l’Onchidium Peronii.

Additions 4 VArticle sur les Ossemens Fossiles des
Tapirs.

Additions 4 l’ Article sur ’ Hippopotame.

Mémoire sur les Ossemens Fossiles d’Hippopotame.

Mémoire sur la Phyllidie et sur le Pleurobranche.

Mémoire sur le Sarigue Fossile des Gypses de Paris.

Mémoire sur le Megalonyx.

Mémoire sur le Megatheriuin.

Mémoire sur la Dolabelle.

Mémoire sur les Rhinoceros Fossiles.

190 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENTS.

1808. Appointed Counsellor to the University.

BD".
1806.

CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 191

Mémoire sur le Limacon et le Colimacon.
Mémoire sur les Ours des Cavernes d’ Allemagne.

1807. Eloge Historique de Michel Adanson.

1808.

Mémoire sur les Elephans vivans et Fossiles.

Mémoire sur ie Grand Mastondonte.

Mémoire sur les autres Espéces de Mastondonte.

Résumé général de l’Histoire des Ossemens Fossiles, de
Pachydermes, des Terreins Meubles et d’Alluvion.

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

Mémoire sur les Os ‘des Extrémités.

Mémoire sur les Os longs des Extrémités.

Memoire sur les Extrémités antérieures.

Memoire sur les Omoplates et les Bassins.

Description de deux Squelettes presque entiers de |’Ano-
plotherium commun.

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

Mémoire sur les Carnassiers (autres que |’Ours) des
Cavernes.

Mémoire sur les différentes Espéces de Crocodiles vivans.

Mémoire sur quelques Ossemens de Carnassiers dans les
Carriéres 4 Platre de Paris.

Rapport ala Classe des Sciences Physiques et Mathé-
matiques de l'Institut, sur ’Ecrit de M. Adams sur l’Ele-
phant Fossile.

Rapport sur un Mémoire de M. Decandolie, intitulé
“ Tableau de la Nutrition de Végétaux.”

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

Rapport Historique sur les Progrés des Sciences Natu-
relles, depuis 1789, &c.

Eloge Historique de Broussonnet.

Memoire sur l’[anthine et la Phasianelle.

Memoire sur l’ Helix vivipara.

Rapport sur un Mémoire de MM. Gall et Spurzheiin.

Memoire sur le Buccinum undatum.

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

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

Observations sur le grand Animal Fossile de Maestricht.

Memoire sur le Genre Thétys.

Suite des Recherches sur les Ossemens Fossiles des En-
virons de Paris.

Mémoire sur les Os des Ruminans des Terreins Meubles.

192

A.D.
1809.
1810.

i811.

1812,

1813.

1814.

1815.

CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENTS.

Italian States.

a with the organization of the Academies of the

Charged with the organization of the Academies of
Holland.

Received the title of Chevalier. :

Death of Mademoiselle Anne Cuvier.

Death of George Cuvier, jun.

there.

Named Maitre des Requétes.

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

Made Commissaire Impériale Extraordinaire, and sent
to the left bank of the Rhine, in order 1o take the steps
necessary for opposing the invasion of France.

Named Counsellor of State by Napoleon.

Named Counsellor of State by Louis XVIII.

(September.) First officiated as Commissaire du Roi,
to which he was repeatedly called at various periods of his
life.

Named Chancellor of the University.

Procured meliorations of the Criminal Laws, and in the
Prévotal Courts.

M. Cuvier sent to Rome, to organize the University |

ae

1809.

1810,

1811}.

4812.

“1813.

‘1815.

ford

CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 193

Mémoire sur les Bréches Osseuses de Gibraltar.

Mémoire sur l’Ostéologie du Lamantin et du Dugong.

Mémoire sur quelques Quadrupédes Fossiles des Schistes
Calcaires.

Mémoire sur les Ossemens Fossiles des Chevaux et des
Sangliers.

Supplément au Mémoire sur les Ornitholithes de Paris.

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

Mémoire sur les Espéces vivantes des grands Chats,

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

Mémoire sur les Ossemens Fossiles des Tortues.

Mémoire sur les Acéres.

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

Eloges Historiques de Bonnet et de De Saussure.

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

Eloge Historique de Fourcroy.

Rapport sur un Mémoire de M. Jacobson, intitulé “De-
scription Anatomique des Organes observés dans les Mam-
miféres.”

Article Animal, pour la Dictionnaire des Sciences Médi-
cales.

Eloge Historique de Dessesserts.

Eloge Historique de Cavendish.

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

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

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

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

Eloge Historique de Pallas.

Mémoire sur le Lophote Giorna.

Article Dent, pour la Dictionnaire des Sciences Médi-
cales.

Eloges Historiques de Parmentier, et du Comte de Rum-

Mémoire sur |’Aigle au Maigre.

Mémoire sur la Composition de la Machoire inférieure
des Poissons.
R

194 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENTS.

A. D.

1818. Offered the Ministry of the Interior ; which offer was re-_

fused. 4
First Journey to England. f
Elected Member of the Académie Francaise.

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

1820. (December 21.) Resigned Grand Mastership. |

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

|

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

NS

A.D.
1815.

1816.
1817.

1818.

1822.

CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 195

Observations et Recherches Critiques sur les Poissons de

la Mediterranée.

Suite du méme.

Suite du méme.

Suite du méme.

Mémoire sur les Ascidies.

Mémoire sur les Anatifes et Balanes.

Rapport sur deux Mémoires de M. Savigny, intitulés
“Observations sur les Alcyons,” (4 la suite des Mémoires
sur les Animaux sans Vertébres de Savigny, 2me partie,
page 67.)

Réflexions sur la Marche actuelle des Sciences, &c.

Eloge Historique d’Olivier.

Eloge Historique de Tenon.

Articles Cartilage, Cerveau, pour la Dictionnaire des
Sciences Naturelles.

Seconde Edition des Recherches sur les Ossemens Fos-
siles, en cing volumes in 4to.

Le Régne Animal, en quatre volumes in 8vo.

Rapport sur un Mémoire de M. Dutrochet, intitulé
“Recherches sur les Enveloppes du Fetus.”

Mémoire sur les Giufs des Quadrupédes.

Mémoire surla Venus Hottentote.

Article Hymen, pour la Dictionnaire des Sciences Médi-
cales.

Eloge Historique de Werner.

Eloge Historique de Desmarets.

Mémoire sur le Genre Chironectes.

Mémoire sur les Dicdons.

Mémoire sur le Genre Myletus.

Discours sur la Réception de M. Cuvier a l’Académie
Francaise.

Mémoire sur les Poissons du Genre Hydrocyn.

Eloge Historique de M. de Beauvois.

Mémoire sur le Meleagris Ocellata.

Rapport sur une Mémoire de M. Audouin, intitulé, “ Re-
cherches Anatomiques sur le Thorax des Animaux Articulés,
et celui des Insectes en particulier.” (Annales des Sciences
Physiques de Bruxelles, vii. Journal de Physiologie Ex-

périmentale, i.)

Eloge Historique de Sir Joseph Banks.

Rapport sur un Mémoire de M. Flourens, sur le Systeme
Nerveux.

Eloge Historique de M. Duhamel.

Discours Funébre de M. Vanspaendonck.

Discours Funébre de M. Délambre.

196 CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF EVENTS.

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

1827. (June 14.) Appointed Censor of the Press ; which ap-
pointment was instantly refused.
Charged with the government of all the non-Catholic re-
ligions.
1828. sepieniber 28.) Death of Mademoiselle Clementine —
Cuvier. |

1839. Resumed lectures at the Collége de France. .
Paid a second visit to England.

1832. Created a Peer. |
ee? Appointed President to the entire Council of
Sta

(May 13.) Death.

7
Pabst

CHRONOLIGICAL LIST OF WORKS. 197

A. D.

1823. Eloge Historique de Haiiy.

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

Mémoire sur Je Bradypus tridactylus.

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

Eloge Historique du Comte Berthollet.

Eloge Historique de Richard.

1825. Article Nature, pour la Dictionnaire des Sciences Natu-
relles.

Seconde Edition du Discours Préliminaire des Recherches
sur les Ossemens Fossiles, appellé “ Discours sur les
Révolutions de la Surface du Globe,” in 8vo.

Discours sur la Distribution des Prix de Vertu.

Eloge Historique de Thouin.

1826. Eloge Historique du Comte de Lacépéde.

Rapport sur les Principaux Changemens éprouvés par les
Theories Chimiques.

Edition in 4to. du “Discours sur les Révolutions du
Globe.”

1827. Eloges Historiques de MM. Hallé, Corvisart, et Pinel.

Eloge Historique de M. Fabbroni.

Mémoire sur le Canard Pie de la Nouvelle Holiande.

1828. Volumes I. et II. du grand Ouvrage sur l’Ichthyologie.

Eloge Historique de Ramond.

Caii Plinii Secundi, Libri de Animalibus.——

Notas et Excursus Zoologici Argumenti adjecit, G. Cuvier,
(traduits en 1831.)
f Rapport fait a l’Institut sur un Mémoire de M. Adolphe
ig Brongniart, intitulé “Considérations générales de la Nature
a de la Végétation qui couvrait la Surface de la Terre, aux
divers périodes de la formation deson Ecorce.”

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

Volumes ITI. et IV. sur PIchthyologie.

Eloge Historique de M. Bose.

Volumes V. et VI. sur ’Ichthyologie.

Eloge Histurique de Sir Humphry Davy.

Eloge Historique de Vauquelin.

Volumes VII. et VIII. sur V’Ichthyologie.

Eloge Historique de Lamarck.

Et en outre plusieurs Rapports sur les Collections rap-
portés par les Voyageurs, tels que les Collections de MM.
Quoy et Gaimard, Lesson et Garrot, Dussumier, &c. &c.

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NARRATIVE OF A VOYAGE TO THE ETHIOPIC
AND SOUTH ATLANTIC OCEAN, INDIAN OCEAN, CHINESE SBA,
AND NORTH AND SOUTH PACIFIC OCEAN. By Assy Janke Monra ce.
With a Portrait. 12mo.

WESLEY’S SERMONS and MISCELLANEOUS
WORKS. 6 vols. 8vo.

MASSINGER’S PLAYS. In 3 vols. 18mo. Witha
Portrait. “2:

THE PLAYS OF JOHN FORD. 2vols. 18mo.

MODERN AMERICAN COOKERY. 16mo.

SURVEYORS’ TABLES. [Carefully prepared.]
10.

LIBRARY OF SELECT NOVELS.

Ir The following works are printed and bound uniformly, and
may be obtained either separately or in complete sets.

YOUTH AND MANHOOD OF CYRIL THORNTON.
In 2 vols. 12mo.

THE DUTCHMAN’S FIRESIDE. By J. K. Pauspine,
Esq. In 2 vols. 12mo.

THE YOUNG DUKE. By the Author of “ Vivian
Grey.” In2 vols. 12mo.

CALEB WILLIAMS. By the Author of “‘ Cloudesley,”
&c In2 vols. 12mo.

PHILIP AUGUSTUS. By G. P. R. James, Esq. In
2 vols. 12mo.

THE CLUB-BOOK. By several popular Authors. — In
2 vols. 12mo.

DE VERE. By the Author of “Tremaine.” In 2
vols. 12mo.

THE SMUGGLER. By the Author of “The O’Hara
Tales,” &c. In 2 vols. 12mo.

EUGENE ARAM. By the Author of “Pelham.” In
2 vols. 12mo.

EVELINA. By Miss Burney. In 2 vols. 12mo.

THE SPY: A Tale of the Neutral Ground. By the
Author of “ Precaution.” In 2 vols. 12mo.

WESTWARD HO! By the Author of “The Dutch-
man’s Fireside,” &c. In 2 vols. 12mo.

TALES OF GLAUBER-SPA. By Miss Sepewicx
Messrs. Paunpine, Bryant, Sanps, Leccett, &c. In?
vols. 12mo.

HENRY MASTERTON. By G. P. R. James, Esq.,
Author of “ Philip Augustus,” &c. In 2 vols. 12mo.

MARY OF BURGUNDY; Or, the Revolt of Ghent
By the Author of “ Philip Augustus,” ‘‘ Henry Mas-
terton,” &c. In2 vols. 12mo

ITUTION LIBRARIES

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