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THE BRIDGEWATER TREATISES
on THE Power, wisdom, AND goodness of God
AS MANIFESTED IN THE CREATION.
TREATISE II.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO
THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN.
BY J. KIDD, M. D.


THOU MADEST HIM TO HAVE DOMIMION OVER THE WORKS OF THY
HANDS; THOU HAST PUT ALL THINGS UNDER HIS FEET.
PSALM VIII. 6.


ON THE
ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL
N AT U R E
to THE
-
PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN,
PRINCIPALLY witH REFERENCE TO THE SUPPLY OF HIs wANTs, *
º
AND THE EXERCISE OF HIS INTELLECTUAL FACULT
£42, r_2~~~ *****
—zº-
REGIUS PROFESSOR OF MEDICINE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD,
º
5 §§hiladelphia:
CA R EY, L E A & B L A N CH A R D.


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To
HIS GRACE
THE
ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.
My LoRD,
HAving been appointed to write the following
Treatise by the late President of the Royal Society,
in consequence of your Grace's recommendation, it
was natural that I should be desirous of publicly
acknowledging the high honour thus conferred upon
me.
I therefore request you to accept my respectful
thanks for permitting me to inscribe this Treatise
with your Grace's name: assuring you that, however
inadequately I may have been found to answer your
expectation in the execution, I have not applied
myself to the task committed to me, without the
exertion of much thought, and the strongest desire
of so executing it, as to justify your Grace's favour-
able opinion.
I have the honour to be,
My Lord,
with the greatest respect,
Your Grace's most obliged
and obedient Servant,
J. KIDD.
Oxford, March 15, 1833.
A 2





PREF ACE.
THE occasion which gave rise to this and the accompanying
Treatises is explained in the following notice: but the Author
of the present Treatise thinks it right to add, that, although
encouraged by the honour of having been recommended by
His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, he should have
shrunk from his present attempt, had he considered that any
exact elucidation of the details of science was required in the
execution of it.
As, however, the intention of Lord Bridgewater, and the
very extent and diversified nature of the subject, seemed to
him almost necessarily to exclude any great exactness of
elucidation, and to require a popular rather than a scientific
exposition of facts; and as the whole tenour of his pursuits
during the last thirty years of his life accorded with the
character of the proposed subject; he the more readily
undertook a task, to the execution of which he could not but
look forward with much pleasure. And if he should in any
instance stimulate the reader to examine the question with
any portion of the interest and satisfaction with which he
has himself examined it, he is confident that he shall not
have laboured in vain.
It will be for others to determine whether a judicious
selection and a sufficiently natural arrangement of the ma-
terials of the following Treatise have been adopted: but to
those, who may think that many of the subjects have been
treated too cursorily, the Author begs leave to point out the
extensive range afforded by so wide a field of inquiry; and
the consequent necessity of compression in each particular;
the subject of this Treatise being in fact an epitome of the
subjects of almost all the others. He also considers it right
to state, that it is the immediate object of the Treatise itself
to unfold a train of facts, not to maintain an argument; to
give a general view of the adaptation of the external world
to the physical condition of man, not to attempt formally to
convince the reader that this adaptation is a proof either of


viii PREFACE,
the existence and omnipotence of the Deity, or of his bene-
ficence and wisdom; though undoubtedly it is hoped by the
writer, as it was intended by the munificent individual who
originally proposed the general subject of this and the
accompanying Treatises, that such a conviction, if not
already existing, may be produced by its perusal. Without
questioning, therefore, on the present occasion, the intellectual
powers or the moral motives of those who profess themselves
sceptics with respect to either natural or revealed religion,
the Author addresses himself exclusively to those who are
believers in both the one and the other. With respect indeed
to a disbelief in the basis of natural religion, he must ever
feel assured, as in another place he has expressed himself,
that, however easy it may be to account for the external
profession of a disbelief in God, the supposition of the exist-
ence of intellectual atheism involves an intellectual absurdity.
With respect to the truth of revelation, although the subject
of this Treatise is not directly connected with that question,
he would still wish to consider himself as addressing those
only who with himself believe that the objects which sur-
round us in our present state of existence, and which are so
obviously intended to advance the general powers and facul-
ties of Man, without advancing the powers and faculties of
any other animal, are purposely destined to produce an
ulterior and higher effect; the nature of which effect is to be
learnt from the doctrines of Revelation alone. And he has
thought it right to say thus much on the general subject of
religion, not merely for the purpose of recording his own
sentiments; but that, in professing to address those only
who believe in revealed as well as in natural religion, if on
any occasion he should assume the truth of Revelation, he
may not be with justice accused of taking that for granted,
of which the reader doubts.


NOT ICE.
THE series of Treatises, of which the present is one, is pub-
lished under the following circumstances:
The RIGHT Honour ABLE and REVEREND FRANCIs HENRY,
EARL of BRIDGEwATER, died in the month of February, 1829;
and by his last Will and Testament, bearing date the 25th of
February, 1825, he directed certain Trustees therein named to
invest in the public funds the sum of eight thousand pounds ster-
ling; this sum, with the accruing dividends thereon, to be held
at the disposal of the President, for the time being, of the Royal
Society of London, to be paid to the person or persons nominated
by him. The Testator further directed, that the person or per-
sons selected by the said President should be appointed to write,
print, and publish one thousand copies of a work On the Power,
Wisdom, and Goodness of God, as manifested in the Creation;
illustrating such work by all reasonable arguments; as for
instance the variety and formation of God’s creatures in the
animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms; the effect of diges-
tion, and thereby of conversion; the construction of the hand of
man, and an infinite variety of other arguments; as also by dis-
coveries ancient and modern, in arts, sciences, and the whole
extent of literature. He desired, moreover, that the profits
arising from the sale of the works so published should be paid to
the authors of the works.
The late President of the Royal Society, Davies Gilbert, Esq.
requested the assistance of his Grace the Archbishop of Canter-
bury and of the Bishop of London, in determining upon the best
mode of carrying into effect the intentions of the Testator. Act-
ing with their advice, and with the concurrence of a nobleman
immediately connected with the deceased, Mr. Davies Gilbert
appointed the following eight gentlemen to write separate Trea-
tises on the different branches of the subject, as here stated:


-* - -
- -
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-- --- - --- -------------- * -- ~~~~
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v.A. 2540.5 °). -
Q"
ROBERT TROUP PAINE
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-- A - war--> co LL - 4: E.
A LEGacy.
IN HIS NAME BEING APPLIED
IN PART to AN ANNUAL increasi.
or Tri-Litºr-in-
Received 9 April, 1879.





THOU MADEST HIM TO HAVE DOMIMION OWER THE WORKS OF THY
HANDS; THOU HAST PUT ALL THINGS UNDER HIS FEET.
PSALM VIII. 6.
º


ON THE
ADAPTATION OF EXTE R NAL
N AT U R E
To THE
PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN,
PRINCIPALLY WITH REFERENCE TO THE SUPPLY OF HIS WANTS, *
AND THE EXERCISE OF HIS INTELLECTUAL FACULT
—zº-
REGIUS PROFESSOR OF MEDICINE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD,
5 §§hiladelphia:
CA REY, L E A & BLAN CHARD.


Thil 25.40.2.
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To
HIS GRACE
THE
ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.
My LoRD,
Having been appointed to write the following
Treatise by the late President of the Royal Society,
in consequence of your Grace's recommendation, it
was natural that I should be desirous of publicly
acknowledging the high honour thus conferred upon
me.
I therefore request you to accept my respectful
thanks for permitting me to inscribe this Treatise
with your Grace's name: assuring you that, however
inadequately I may have been found to answer your
expectation in the execution, I have not applied
myself to the task committed to me, without the
exertion of much thought, and the strongest desire
of so executing it, as to justify your Grace's favour-
able opinion.
I have the honour to be,
My LoRD,
with the greatest respect,
Your Grace's most obliged
and obedient Servant,
J. Kidd.
Oxford, March 15, 1833.
A 2





PREF ACE.
THE occasion which gave rise to this and the accompanying
Treatises is explained in the following notice: but the Author
of the present Treatise thinks it right to add, that, although
encouraged by the honour of having been recommended by
His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, he should have
shrunk from his present attempt, had he considered that any
exact elucidation of the details of science was required in the
execution of it.
As, however, the intention of Lord Bridgewater, and the
very extent and diversified nature of the subject, seemed to
him almost necessarily to exclude any great exactness of
elucidation, and to require a popular rather than a scientific
exposition of facts; and as the whole tenour of his pursuits
during the last thirty years of his life accorded with the
character of the proposed subject; he the more readily
undertook a task, to the execution of which he could not but
look forward with much pleasure. And if he should in any
instance stimulate the reader to examine the question with
any portion of the interest and satisfaction with which he
has himself examined it, he is confident that he shall not
have laboured in vain.
It will be for others to determine whether a judicious
selection and a sufficiently natural arrangement of the ma-
terials of the following Treatise have been adopted: but to
those, who may think that many of the subjects have been
treated too cursorily, the Author begs leave to point out the
extensive range afforded by so wide a field of inquiry; and
the consequent necessity of compression in each particular;
the subject of this Treatise being in fact an epitome of the
subjects of almost all the others. He also considers it right
to state, that it is the immediate object of the Treatise itself
to unfold a train of facts, not to maintain an argument; to
give a general view of the adaptation of the external world
to the physical condition of man, not to attempt formally to
convince the reader that this adaptation is a proof either of


viii PREFACE,
the existence and omnipotence of the Deity, or of his bene-
ficence and wisdom; though undoubtedly it is hoped by the
writer, as it was intended by the munificent individual who
originally proposed the general subject of this and the
accompanying Treatises, that such a conviction, if not
already existing, may be produced by its perusal. Without
questioning, therefore, on the present occasion, the intellectual
powers or the moral motives of those who profess themselves
sceptics with respect to either natural or revealed religion,
the Author addresses himself exclusively to those who are
believers in both the one and the other. With respect indeed
to a disbelief in the basis of natural religion, he must ever
feel assured, as in another place he has expressed himself,
that, however easy it may be to account for the external
profession of a disbelief in God, the supposition of the exist-
ence of intellectual atheism involves an intellectual absurdity.
With respect to the truth of revelation, although the subject
of this Treatise is not directly connected with that question,
he would still wish to consider himself as addressing those
only who with himself believe that the objects which sur-
round us in our present state of existence, and which are so
obviously intended to advance the general powers and facul-
ties of Man, without advancing the powers and faculties of
any other animal, are purposely destined to produce an
ulterior and higher effect; the nature of which effect is to be
learnt from the doctrines of Revelation alone. And he has
thought it right to say thus much on the general subject of
religion, not merely for the purpose of recording his own
sentiments; but that, in professing to address those only
who believe in revealed as well as in natural religion, if on
any occasion he should assume the truth of Revelation, he
may not be with justice accused of taking that for granted,
of which the reader doubts.


NOTIC E.
THE series of Treatises, of which the present is one, is pub-
lished under the following circumstances:
The RIGHT Honour ABLE and REveREND FRANCIs HENRY,
EARL of BRIDGEwATER, died in the month of February, 1829;
and by his last Will and Testament, bearing date the 25th of
February, 1825, he directed certain Trustees therein named to
invest in the public funds the sum of eight thousand pounds ster-
ling; this sum, with the accruing dividends thereon, to be held
at the disposal of the President, for the time being, of the Royal
Society of London, to be paid to the person or persons nominated
by him. The Testator further directed, that the person or per-
sons selected by the said President should be appointed to write,
print, and publish one thousand copies of a work On the Power,
Wisdom, and Goodness of God, as manifested in the Creation ;
illustrating such work by all reasonable arguments; as for
instance the variety and formation of God’s creatures in the
animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms; the effect of diges-
tion, and thereby of conversion; the construction of the hand of
man, and an infinite variety of other arguments; as also by dis-
coveries ancient and modern, in arts, sciences, and the whole
extent of literature. He desired, moreover, that the profits
arising from the sale of the works so published should be paid to
the authors of the works.
The late President of the Royal Society, Davies Gilbert, Esq.
requested the assistance of his Grace the Archbishop of Canter-
bury and of the Bishop of London, in determining upon the best
mode of carrying into effect the intentions of the Testator. Act-
ing with their advice, and with the concurrence of a nobleman
immediately connected with the deceased, Mr. Davies Gilbert
appointed the following eight gentlemen to write separate Trea-
tises on the different branches of the subject, as here stated:


THOU MADEST HIM TO HAVE DOMIMION OVER THE WORKS OF THY
HANDs; THOU HAST PUT ALL THINGs UNDER. His FEET.
PSALM VIII. 6.
*


ON THE
ADAPTATION OF EXTE R NAL
N AT U R E
-
PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN,
PRINCIPALLY WITH REFERENCE TO THE SUPPLY OF HIS WANTS, *
AND THE EXERCISE OF HIS INTELLECTUAL FACULT
3242, r <--~ 22e22-
-Zºr
7% wax (?2&ze.
REGIUS PROFESSOR OF MEDICINE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD,
*
5 §hiladelphia:
CA REY, LEA & BLANCHARD.


Thil 2540.2.0-
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TO
HIS GRACE
THE
ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.
My LoRD,
Having been appointed to write the following
Treatise by the late President of the Royal Society,
in consequence of your Grace's recommendation, it
was natural that I should be desirous of publicly
acknowledging the high honour thus conferred upon
me.
I therefore request you to accept my respectful
thanks for permitting me to inscribe this Treatise
with your Grace's name: assuring you that, however
inadequately I may have been found to answer your
expectation in the execution, I have not applied
myself to the task committed to me, without the
exertion of much thought, and the strongest desire
of so executing it, as to justify your Grace's favour-
able opinion.
I have the honour to be,
My Lord,
with the greatest respect,
Your Grace's most obliged
and obedient Servant,
J. KIDD.
OxFord, March 15, 1833.
A 2


PREF ACE.
THE occasion which gave rise to this and the accompanying
Treatises is explained in the following notice: but the Author
of the present Treatise thinks it right to add, that, although
encouraged by the honour of having been recommended by
His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, he should have
shrunk from his present attempt, had he considered that any
exact elucidation of the details of science was required in the
execution of it.
As, however, the intention of Lord Bridgewater, and the
very extent and diversified nature of the subject, seemed to
him almost necessarily to exclude any great exactness of
elucidation, and to require a popular rather than a scientific
exposition of facts; and as the whole tenour of his pursuits
during the last thirty years of his life accorded with the
character of the proposed subject; he the more readily
undertook a task, to the execution of which he could not but
look forward with much pleasure. And if he should in any
instance stimulate the reader to examine the question with
any portion of the interest and satisfaction with which he
has himself examined it, he is confident that he shall not
have laboured in vain.
It will be for others to determine whether a judicious
selection and a sufficiently natural arrangement of the ma-
terials of the following Treatise have been adopted: but to
those, who may think that many of the subjects have been
treated too cursorily, the Author begs leave to point out the
extensive range afforded by so wide a field of inquiry; and
the consequent necessity of compression in each particular;
the subject of this Treatise being in fact an epitome of the
subjects of almost all the others. He also considers it right
to state, that it is the immediate object of the Treatise itself
to unfold a train of facts, not to maintain an argument; to
give a general view of the adaptation of the external world
to the physical condition of man, not to attempt formally to
convince the reader that this adaptation is a proof either of


viii PREFACE,
the existence and omnipotence of the Deity, or of his bene-
ficence and wisdom; though undoubtedly it is hoped by the
writer, as it was intended by the munificent individual who
originally proposed the general subject of this and the
accompanying Treatises, that such a conviction, if not
already existing, may be produced by its perusal. Without
questioning, therefore, on the present occasion, the intellectual
powers or the moral motives of those who profess themselves
sceptics with respect to either natural or revealed religion,
the Author addresses himself exclusively to those who are
believers in both the one and the other. With respect indeed
to a disbelief in the basis of natural religion, he must ever
feel assured, as in another place he has expressed himself,
that, however easy it may be to account for the external
profession of a disbelief in God, the supposition of the exist-
ence of intellectual atheism involves an intellectual absurdity.
With respect to the truth of revelation, although the subject
of this Treatise is not directly connected with that question,
he would still wish to consider himself as addressing those
only who with himself believe that the objects which sur-
round us in our present state of existence, and which are so
obviously intended to advance the general powers and facul-
ties of Man, without advancing the powers and faculties of
any other animal, are purposely destined to produce an
ulterior and higher effect; the nature of which effect is to be
learnt from the doctrines of Revelation alone. And he has
thought it right to say thus much on the general subject of
religion, not merely for the purpose of recording his own
sentiments; but that, in professing to address those only
who believe in revealed as well as in natural religion, if on
any occasion he should assume the truth of Revelation, he
may not be with justice accused of taking that for granted,
of which the reader doubts.


NOT ICE.
THE series of Treatises, of which the present is one, is pub-
lished under the following circumstances:
The RIGHT Honour ABLE and REveREND FRANCIs HENRY,
EARL of BRIDGEwATER, died in the month of February, 1829;
and by his last Will and Testament, bearing date the 25th of
February, 1825, he directed certain Trustees therein named to
invest in the public funds the sum of eight thousand pounds ster-
ling; this sum, with the accruing dividends thereon, to be held
at the disposal of the President, for the time being, of the Royal
Society of London, to be paid to the person or persons nominated
by him. The Testator further directed, that the person or per-
sons selected by the said President should be appointed to write,
print, and publish one thousand copies of a work On the Power,
Wisdom, and Goodness of God, as manifested in the Creation ;
illustrating such work by all reasonable arguments; as for
instance the variety and formation of God’s creatures in the
animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms; the effect of diges-
tion, and thereby of conversion; the construction of the hand of
man, and an infinite variety of other arguments; as also by dis-
coveries ancient and modern, in arts, sciences, and the whole
extent of literature. He desired, moreover, that the profits
arising from the sale of the works so published should be paid to
the authors of the works.
The late President of the Royal Society, Davies Gilbert, Esq.
requested the assistance of his Grace the Archbishop of Canter-
bury and of the Bishop of London, in determining upon the best
mode of carrying into effect the intentions of the Testator. Act-
ing with their advice, and with the concurrence of a nobleman
immediately connected with the deceased, Mr. Davies Gilbert
appointed the following eight gentlemen to write separate Trea-
tises on the different branches of the subject, as here stated:


X
THE REW. THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D.
Professor of Divinity in the University of Edinburgh.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO THE MORAL AND
INTELLECTUAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN.
JOHN KIDD, M. D. F. R. S.
Regius Professor of Medicine in the University of Oxford.
ON THE ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO THE PHYSICAL
CONDITION OF MAN.
THE REW. WILLIAM WHEWELL, M. A. F. R. S.
Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge.
ON ASTRONOMY AND GENERAL PHYSICS.
SIR CHARLES BELL, K. H. F. R. S.
THE HAND : ITS MECHANISM AND WITAL ENDOWMENTS AS EVINCING
DESIGN.
PETER MARK ROGET, M. D.
Fellow of and Secretary to the Royal Society.
ON ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE PHYSIOLOGY.
THE REV. WILLIAM BUCKLAND, D. D. F. R. S.
Canon of Christ Church and Professor of Geology in the University of Oxford.
ON GEOLOGY AND MINERALOGY.
THE REV. WILLIAM KIRBY, M. A. F. R. S.
oN THE HISTORY, HABITS, AND INSTINCTs of ANIMALs.
WILLIAM PROUT, M. D. F. R. S.
on CHEMISTRY, METEOROLOGY, AND THE FUNCTION OF DIGESTION.
His Roy AL HIGHNEss THE DUKE of Sussex, President of the
Royal Society, having desired that no unnecessary delay should
take place in the publication of the above mentioned treatises,
they will appear at short intervals, as they are ready for publica-
tion.


C O N T E N T S.
Page
CHAP. I. INTRoDUCTION - - - - 13
SECT. I. The Physical Condition of Man . - ib.
II. The general Constitution of external Nature 15
CHAP. II. THE PHYSICAL CHARACTER of MAN - 19
SECT. I. The Physical Character of Man, compared
with that of other Animals - - ib.
II. Differences in the Form of the Infant and of the
the Adult; particularly with reference to the
Spine - - - - - 21
III. Physical Superiority of Man, on what Principle
to be estimated - - - 25
IV. Early and gradual Developement of the intellec-
tual Faculties of Man - - - 28
CHAP. III. ON THE Powers of THE HUMAN HAND, con-
SIDERED As A CoRPOREAL ORGAN - 32
CHAP. IV. ON THE BRAIN, considERED As THE ORGAN of
THE INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES - 42
CHAP. W. THE NERVous SystEM of ANIMALs IN GENERAL 46
SECT. I. The Nervous System of the inferior Animals ib.
II. The Nervous System of Man - - 50
III. Indications of natural Talent and Disposition
deducible from the Structure of the Brain 54
IV. The general Doctrine of Physiognomy, as con-
nected with the Form of the Body - 59
W. The Developement of the Human Brain, com-
pared with that of other Animals - 64
VI. Cursory View of the Extent of Human Power
over the Objects of the external World 66
CHAP. VI. ADAPTATION of THE ATMosPHERE To THE
WANTs of MAN - - - 69
SECT. I. The general Constitution of the Atmosphere ib.
II. Light - - - - - 71
III. Heat - • - - - 79
IV. The general Uses of Water - - 87
W. Baths - - - - - 91
VI. The Fluidity of Water - - 95
WII. The natural Sources of Water - 99
VIII. The Air of the Atmosphere, as connected
with Respiration - - - 101
IX. Effects of the Motion of the Air, as connected
with Human Health, &c. - -
X. Effects of the Motion of the Air, as connected
with the Arts, &c. - - -
113


xii CONTENTS.
Page
CHAP. VII. ADAPTATION of MINERALs to THE PHYSICAL g
CoNDITION of MAN - - - 119
SECT. I. The general Characters of Minerals - ib.
II. Application of Minerals to Architecture and
Sculpture - - - - 120
III. Gems and precious Stones - - 130
IV. The Distribution and relative Proportions of
Sea and Land; and the geological Arrange-
ment and physical Character of some of the
superficial Strata of the Earth - 134
W. Beds of Gravel - - - 136
VI. Metals - - - - 143
VII. Common Salt, &c. - - - 152
CHAP. VIII. ADAPTATION of VEGETABLEs To THE PHYSI-
CAL CoNDITION of MAN - - 154
SECT. I. General Observations on the Vegetable King- ib
dom - - - - 10.
II. The Cocoa-nut Tree, including the Formation
of Coral Reefs - - - 156
III. Vegetables as a Source of Food - 164
IV. Vegetables as applicable to Medicine - 171
V. Vegetables as applicable to the Arts, &c. 176
CHAP. IX. ADAPTATION of ANIMALs To THE PHYsICAL
CoNDITION of MAN - - - 183
SECT. I. General Observations on the Animal Kingdom ib.
II. Geographical Distribution of Animals - 187
III. The Camel - - - - 188
IV. Domestication of Animals - - 194
W. Animals as a Source of Food - - 198
VI. Manufacture of Sal Ammoniac - -
VII. Animals as a Source of Clothing, &c. -
CHAP. X. ADAPTATION of THE ExtERNAL World to THE
ExERCISE of THE INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES
of MAN - - - - 205
Sect. I. On the Rise and Progress of Human Know- .
ledge - - ib.
II. Opinions of Lucretius on the constitution of
Matter in general; and on the Nature of
Light, Heat, Water, and Air - - 214
III. Opinions of the Ancients on the Organization
and Classification of Animals - -
IV. On those Animal Forms called Monsters, or
Lusus Naturae - - - 248
CHAP. XI. Conclusion - - - - 251
APPENDIX - - - - - 257


ON THE
ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE
TO THE
PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTION.
SECTION I.
The Physical Condition of Man.
WHEN Hamlet, in contemplating the grandeur of
creation, breaks forth into that sublime apostrophe on
man—“How noble in reason! how infinite in facul-
ties! in form and moving, how express and admirable!
in action, how like an angel! in apprehension, how
like a God! the beauty of the world! the paragon of
animals!” who does not feel elated by the description?
who does not feel conscious of its truth?
Nor is its truth the less admissible, because the
poet, in concentrating the powers of his imagination
on the excellences of that work of creation which
bears the stamp of the Creator's image, has omitted
to present to our view the reverse of the impression,
the frailty namely of our fallen nature: for although,
on moral and religious considerations, each indivi-
B


INTRODUCTION. 15
exist, civilized or savage, so many are his natural
states. If any indeed could be pre-eminently called
his natural state, it would be that of civilization: for
not only does experience show that his natural ten-
dency is towards such a state; but we know, from
the highest authority, that the existence of man is
connected with a moral end; (with more indeed than
a moral end; since morals have immediately a rela-
tion to this life only, while man is destined for a fu-
ture;), and a moral end is hardly attainable in an
uncivilized state of society.
SECTION II.
The general Constitution of external JNature.
THE more familiar objects of that external world
by which man is surrounded are usually distributed
into three kingdoms, as they are called; the animal,
vegetable, and mineral: but for the purpose of this
treatise it will be necessary to take into our account
the phenomena of the atmosphere also.
The atmosphere principally consists of the air
which we respire; (a form of matter so subtle, in all
its states, as to be invisible;) together with a variable
proportion of water, of which a part is always retained
in close combination with the air; and, like the air
itself, exists always in an invisible state. There are
also diffused through the atmosphere those still more
subtle agents, heat and electricity. But all these,
though of so subtle a substance, are in their occa-
sional effects the most powerful agents of nature.
For, omitting the consideration of their silent but
wonderful operation, as exhibited in the process of
vegetation, and in many other processes less open to
observation, let us consider the occasional effects of
air in the violence of a tornado; or of water, in the
inundation of a rapid river: or let us contemplate the
effect of either an indefinite diminution or increase of
heat; on the one hand, the natural process of animal


16 INTRODUCTION.
decomposition arrested by its abstraction, so that the
imbedded mammoth remains at this moment in the
same state that it was four thousand years ago; and
in which, under the same circumstances, it undoubt-
edly would be, four thousand or four millions years
hence; on the other hand, the possibility of the dissi-
pation of all the constituent parts of matter, or their
fixation in the state of glass, resulting from the
agency of indefinitely increased heat: or, lastly, let
us consider the tremendous effects of condensed elec-
tricity in the form of lightning:—and we shall neces-
sarily acknowledge that though in their usual state
the constituents of the atmosphere are among the
most tranquil agents of nature, yet, when their power
is concentrated, they are the most awfully energetic.
In the mineral kingdom the most characteristic
property of the several species appears to be a dis-
position to a peculiar mode of mutual attraction
among the particles composing the individuals be-
longing to them; from which attraction, when exerted
under the most favourable circumstances, result that
symmetry and regularity of form, to which the term
crystal has been applied. The transparency and de-
gree of hardness of crystals are various, and depend
much upon external circumstances. The form is
fundamentally the same for each species, though ca-
pable of being modified according to known laws;
and the substance is chemically the same throughout
its whole extent. Every atom of a crystallized mass
of gypsum consists of water, lime, and sulphuric acid,
united in the same proportions as are found to exist
in the whole mass, or in any given part of it.
The individuals of the vegetable kingdom differ very
remarkably from those of the mineral, both in form
and substance. In their form we see nothing like the
mathematical precision of crystallization; and in their
substance they differ widely, according to the part of
the vegetable which is examined: so that, independ-
ently of previous knowledge of the species, we could
hardly discover any natural relation between the


18 INTRODUCTION.
this obscurity arising of course from the points of re-
semblance apparently balancing, or more than balan-
cing, the points of difference. Let us for instance, in
the atmospherical kingdom, take a fragment of a
perfectly transparent crystal of pure ice; and, under
ordinary circumstances, it would be difficult, either
by the sight or the touch, to distinguish it from a
fragment of transparent quartz, or rock crystal; in-
deed the transfer of the original term xpdoraxxos, from
the one to the other, shows the close resemblance of
the two. Some minerals again so nearly resemble
vegetables in form, as to have given rise to specific
terms of appellation, derived from the vegetable king-
dom; as flos ferri, mineral agaric, &c. And, lastly,
many of the animals called sea-anemones so far re-
semble the flower called by the same name, that their
real character is at first very doubtful to those who
are unacquainted with the animals of that genus.
But, omitting these rare and equivocal instances, and
avoiding the confinement of abstract definitions, we
may safely affirm that, of all the kingdoms of nature,
the individuals of the animal kingdom have the most
extensive and important relations to the surrounding
universe. And I need not here insist on the obvious
inference, that if among the kingdoms of nature ani-
mals hold the first rank, in consequence of the im-
portance of these relations, among animals them-
selves the first rank must be assigned to man.


19
CHAPTER II.
THE PHYSICAL CHARACTER OF MAN.
SECTION I.
The Physical Character of Man, compared with that
of other Animals.
ALTHOUGH, when viewed in the aggregate of his
faculties, moral as well as physical, man confessedly
holds the first rank among animals; yet, if we ex-
clude from our consideration those intellectual pow-
ers and moral qualities by which he is essentially
characterized, and confine our view to his mere ani-
mal nature, we find that he scarcely differs in any
important point from any of the species of the higher
classes. In each there is the same necessity for air,
and sleep, and food; and the nature of the food and
the mode of its digestion are not materially different:
the nutrient fluid extracted by the process of diges-
tion is converted into blood of the same character,
and distributed in the same manner through the sys-
tem: the constituent parts of the body and their
mode of growth are almost precisely the same; for
the bone, muscle, tendon, skin, hair, and brain of the
horse, or deer, or tiger, or bear, scarcely differ in
their physical or chemical characters from the cor-
responding parts in man: similar secretions, as the
bile, tears, and saliva, are separated by similarly
constructed organs; and similar parts become simi-
larly diseased: the special senses of sight, hearing,
taste, and smell, are exercised through the medium
of similar organs, simply modified according to the
particular wants of individual species: the sources of
mere bodily pain or pleasure are generally the same:
the instinctive affections, passions, and propensities


PHYSICAL CHARACTER of MAN. 21
strument precisely because he is already superior to
all other animals. And the converse is equally true,
that, with intellectual powers of even a higher order
than those which they already possess, human beings
could not live in a state of society, could hardly in-
deed exist in any state, unless furnished with such an
instrument as the hand.
SECTION II.
Differences in the Form of the Infant and of the Adult;
particularly with reference to the Spine.
AND yet, notwithstanding the confessed superiority
of man, if we view him only in the infancy of his in-
dividual existence, what is there that is calculated to
give an earnest of his future vigour and activity,
either with respect to bodily or mental powers; and
what are all the advantages of the external world to a
creature so utterly helpless, so utterly incapable of
using or even passively enjoying them? In fact, with
the exception of a very few instinctive rather than
voluntary acts, such as that of deriving its nutriment
from the mother's breast, the infant is, from the fee-
bleness of its powers, incapable of efficient exertion;
and depends entirely on the assistance of those around
it.
The physical differences, observable in comparing
the structure of the infant with that of the adult,
which enable the one to execute many operations of
which the other is incapable, exist to a certain extent
in every part of the body; but are perhaps more re-
markable in the spine than in any other part: and
the spine therefore may be selected as a fit term of
comparison.
In considering the office of the adult spine, with
a view to the present subject, we find that great
strength, combined with great flexibility, is particu-
larly requisite. With reference to strength, the py-
ramidal form of this natural column is obviously


22 PHYSICAL CHARACTER OF MAN.
conducive to the purpose intended; and the arrange-
ment of the solid matter, of which it is composed, is
such as to contribute to the same effect: for that solid
matter, instead of being collected into one compact
mass, is diffused in such a manner as to resemble the
structure of sponge; and it is well known, with re-
ference to the strength of artificial columns, that, the
same quantity of matter being given for each, and
their height being the same, those columns which are
hollow are stronger than those which are solid.
Again, the whole column is made up of numerous
parts, called vertebrae, which are so firmly bound
together as to lessen the chance of being broken in
the act of bending; and these vertebrae being ap-
plied to each other, throughout, by broad horizontal
surfaces, are thus best calculated to support the per-
pendicular pressure of the superincumbent parts.
The effect of general strength is further accom-
plished by the mutual locking in of the projecting
portions, or processes, of the several vertebrae; and
the same effect is accomplished to an additional ex-
tent among these vertebrae which belong to the tho-
rax or chest, by the mode of articulation between
them and the ribs; each rib being united, not entirely
to a single vertebra, but partially to two contiguous
vertebrae, near their line of junction.
The flexibility of the spine is secured to the utmost
requisite extent, by the great number of articulations
or joints which it possesses, amounting to more than
twenty; as well as by the elasticity of the substance
constituting those joints: and the projecting parts or
processes of the several vertebrae, which serve for
the insertion of the muscles and tendons which are
to move the whole, are differently disposed in the
neck, the back, and the loins; so as to be accommo-
dated to the degree and kind of motion required in
each : thus the vertebrae of the neck admit of a late-
ral motion to a greater extent than those of the back;
and the vertebrae of the back admit of flexion and
extension to a greater degree than those of the neck;


PHYSICAL CHARACTER OF MAN. 23
while the vertebrae of the loins, being intended for
support rather than flexibility, have their processes
so distributed, as to contribute principally to the for-
mer of those effects.
Thus far we have considered the conditions of the
adult spine, and have seen that they are calculated
most admirably both for flexibility and for strength.
Let us now examine the same column in the age of
early infancy; and here we shall see, that, although
at that period the parts, in which the conditions of
strength and flexibility are so remarkably developed
in the adult state, are not yet formed, or not com-
pleted; those parts which are essential to the security
of the life of the individual are nearly in as perfect a
state as at the age of manhood: so that in the midst
of the most decided marks of weakness and imper-
fection in the rest of the column, there is an extraor-
dinary instance of strength and perfect growth, in
precisely that part of it which could not have been
left in an incomplete state, without manifest, imme-
diate, and constant danger to the individual. In
other words, the bodies and processes of the several
vertebrae on which the strength and flexibility of the
spine depend, are in early infancy still in a soft or
cartilaginous state; while the amnular portions, which
with their intervening ligaments constitute the spinal
canal, are completely ossified; so as to give as great
a degree of security to the spinal marrow as at the
age of manhood.
Nor need we spend much time in ascertaining the
final cause of this remarkable difference. Is it not
indeed obvious on a moment’s reflection, that the
very helplessness and imperfect state of the physical
powers in infancy, so ill understood and appreciated,
though so beautifully described by Lucretius, con-
tribute to the fuller developement of the moral cha-
racter, not only of the individual, but of his parents
also, and of all his immediate connexions. The mu-
tual affection, for instance, that takes place and is
cemented between the infant and its mother, during


- 24 PHYSICAL CHARACTER OF MAN.
the lengthened period in which the latter nurses her
offspring; the stimulus, which is given to the exer-
tions of the other parent in supplying the increasing
wants of those who depend on him for support; and
the general feeling and expression of good-will and
attachment, which bind together the numerous indi-
viduals of the same family; all coincide to increase
the sum of human happiness and virtue. Whereas,
were the infant born with all its powers complete,
and capable of exerting those powers as soon as born,
independently of the assistance of parent, or sister,
or brother; what would then remain of those en-
dearing relations, but the empty name 7
How incorrect then is the conclusion of the poet
in that otherwise most beautiful passage of his poem "
“The new-born babe, which, like the shipwrecked
mariner, lies prostrate on the ground, naked and
destitute of every assistance required for the support
of life, pierces the surrounding air with its incessant
cries; as if foreseeing the long train of miseries which
it must hereafter encounter. And yet the tender
foal and lamb not only begin to crop the grass, but
play about the mother almost as soon as born. The
nurse's soothing lullaby is not wanted by them, nor
the excitement of the rattle or of any other toy: nor
do they require a change of dress accommodated to
the changing temperature of the surrounding atmo-
sphere; nor arms for their defence, nor walled cities
for their protection; kind nature supplying to them
in bountiful profusion whatever is necessary to satisfy
their wants.” As if it might not have been reason-
ably and safely concluded, that that same power, (call
it “nature,” or by any other name,) which provided
so amply for the early wants of the lower species of
animals, had some good and special reason for leav-
ing the human infant in a temporary state of help-
less weakness.
* Tum porro Puer, ut sevis projectus ab undis
Navita, nudus humijacet, infans, indigus omni


PHYSICAL CHARACTER OF MAN. 25
SECTION III.
Physical Superiority of Man, on what Principle to be
estimated.
FROM this helplessness in his early years, and from
the occasional inferiority of some of his physical
organs to the corresponding organs of brutes, it has
sometimes been absurdly asked what claim man has,
from his physical structure or powers, to be placed
first in the scale of animal beings. His strength,
what is it to that of the elephant or of the horse, or
even of some species of reptiles or fish? his powers
of sight and motion, what are they to those of the
bird? his sense of odours, to that of the dog! his
touch, to that of the spider!
And yet, even if we entirely omit the consideration
of the soul, that immaterial and immortal principle
which is for a time united to his body, and view him
only in his merely animal character, man is still the
most excellent of animals. How confined are the
powers of other animals, considered generally, when
compared with those of the human species. The
comb of the bee indeed is in its construction wonder-
ful; and so is even the nest of the bird, or the habita-
tion of the beaver: but these animals could never be
taught to fabricate, or to use, the simplest of those
machines or instruments, which man, even in a very
partially civilized state, is in the daily habit of making
Vitali auxilio, cum primum in luminis oras
Nixibus ex alvo matris natura profudit;
Vagitudue locum lugubri complet, ut aequum 'st
Cui tantum in vita restet transire malorum.
At variae crescunt Pecudes, Armenta, Feraeque;
Nec crepitacula eis opu' sunt, nec cuiquam adhibenda 'st
Alma, nutricis blanda atque infracta loquela:
Nec varias quaerunt Westeis pro tempore Coeli.
Denique non Armis opus est, non Moenibus altis,
Queis sua tutentur, quando omnibus omnia large
Tellus ipsa parit, naturaque daedala rerum.
Lib. v. 223—235.
C


26 PHYSICAL CHARACTER OF MAN.
and employing: much less could they be taught to
perform those complicated operations which result
from their employment.
But, it may perhaps be said, it is the mind, the in-
tellectual power of man, which enables him to pro-
duce the effects in question. His mind indeed enables
him to conceive the plan of those operations which
he executes, but it does no more: and were his form
deficient by one of the smallest of its present mem-
bers, he would be rendered nearly helpless. Take
from his hand but one of the fingers, and he could do
nothing. It is the human hand which gives the power
of execution to the human mind; and it is the rela-
tive position of one of the fingers to the other four,
which principally stamps the character of the hand;
for the thumb, by its capability of being brought into
opposition with each of the other fingers, enables the
hand to adapt itself to every shape; and gives it that
complete dominion which it possesses over the vari-
ous forms of matter.”
Give all the intelligence therefore that you please
to the horse, or to the elephant, yet with hoofs in-
stead of hands it is physically impossible that they
could construct the simplest instrument: nor could
the organs even of the beaver, were that animal gift-
ed with the highest intellectual powers, enable it to
effect much more than it is capable of effecting at
present.
Man then is in every sense superior, in organiza-
tion as well as in intellectual powers, to all other
animals; and the degree of resemblance to him, as
thus superior, is the main principle of classification
adopted at the present day: and upon the whole it
will be found that, in proportion as the powers and
relations of animals are extensive, their structure re-
sembles that of man. And, with respect to the de-
grees of this resemblance, it may be observed that
* The term poltroon, if not of fancied etymology, (pollice
truncatus,) verifies this statement; the Roman soldier who had
been deprived of his thumb, being deemed unfit for service.


28 PhySICAL CHARACTER OF MAN.
an unnecessary anxiety, have laboured to vindicate
the supposed insult thus offered to the dignity of hu-
man nature, by searching for some fixed and invari-
able difference in the structure of corresponding
parts of each.
But the question is puerile: for let us even suppose
that the whole and every part of the structure of the
ape were the same as that of man; let every bone,
and every muscle, and every fibre of the one corre-
spond exactly with those of the other, not only in form
and situation, but also in size and proportion; let the
brain itself, that tangible instrument of the intellee-
tual powers, be in structure the counterpart of the
human; yet, unless in its functions it resembled that
of man, in other words, unless there were associated
with it his intellectual peculiarities and the moral
and religious sense, to what dreaded conclusion
would the closest resemblances lead? However near
the approximation in their form, in their nature there
must ever be an immeasurable distance between the
two. The ape, compared with man, may indeed be
among other animals “proximus huic:” still however
it must be added, “longo sed proximus intervallo.”
SECTION IV.
Early and gradual Developement of the intellectual
Faculties of Man.
THE helplessness of infancy then is but temporary:
and a new scene soon opens to the contemplation of
those who have sufficient opportunities of watching
the developement of the human character: for, long
as is the period, compared with the natural term of
his own life, and longer still, compared with the cor-
responding period in the life of other animals, before
man attains the full stature of his mind as well as of
his body; he at a very early season begins to mani-
fest the superiority of his intellectual nature: he
very soon begins to collect those materials for future


PHYSICAL CHARACTER OF MAN. 29
use, which, though he will never hereafter be able to
call to mind the moment or the circumstances of
their accession, he will use as effectually as if he had
originally acquired them by industrious and direct
attention.
It does not fall within the intention of this treatise
to attempt to ascertain the period when the first
dawn of intelligence enlightens the countenance of
the infant; but, undoubtedly, among its earliest beams
are those expressive smiles, which, although they are
occasioned by the aspect of the mother, and are per-
haps only connected with the expectation of an ani-
mal pleasure, namely the simple enjoyment of nou-
rishment, yet are soon elicited by other individuals
also, who may understand how to win the attention,
and amuse the faculties of the infant mind. -
It seems as if there were implanted in the young
of all animals, of the higher orders, an instinctive
propensity to those actions which are naturally de-
termined by their specific form when fully developed;
in order perhaps, among other purposes, to give oc-
casion for that exercise of the limbs which is neces-
sary to the health of the individual. Hence the young
ram couches his head, and tilts at his adversary,
long before his horns have appeared; and the young
pheasant assails his antagonist with his projected
legs, long before his spurs have begun to bud. And,
following this analogy, may we not reasonably sup-
pose that the sports of childhood have a natural tend-
ency to prefigure the occupations of manhood; and
that by the extension of the same principle, independ-
ently of the impulse given by systematic education,
or spontaneous imitation of their parents and others,
there are instinctive differences in the amusements of
children of different temperaments, connected with
their future destinations in life? Thus while the boy
is engaged in the mimicry of military parade or
equestrian exercises, the girl devotes her time to
more feminine occupations, and busies herself in act-
ing the various duties with her nursery or house-
C


30 PHYSICAL CHARACTER OF MAN.
hold will hereafter require. The recorded attempt
to conceal Achilles in female attire, whether founded
in fact, or, as is probable, merely a fictitious anec-
dote, will serve to illustrate the present point; inas-
much as the use of the means, said to have been em-
ployed by Ulysses to detect the hero, was evidently
suggested by the principle just now advanced.
At this early period of life then, the judgment being
not sufficiently matured for deeper observation, the
mind is satisfied with a view of #. form and surface
of objects presented to it; with their anatomy, as it
were, rather than with their physiology: but, in the
mean time, it is thus acquainting itself undistractedly
with those sensible qualities, with which it must ne-
cessarily be familiar before it can proceed to reason
on causes and relations. And although it may ap-
pear at first view that a very disproportionately long
period of our life is devoted to the mere exercise of
the senses, it is yet highly probable that important
mental operations may be simultaneously going on,
though we are at the time unconscious of them: for
something analogous is observable throughout the
whole course of our existence. How few there are,
for instance, who, at any period of life, can call to
mind a tenth part of what they have even recently
heard or observed. And if this may be correctly
affirmed of the adult age of life, and of those indivi-
duals whose original powers of mind are great, how
much more strongly will it apply to those whose
original powers of mind are not above the common
standard, or not yet matured by age. So that there
can be very little doubt that the general principles
and rules, which regulate the reasoning and conduct
of men on ordinary occasions, have been originally
deduced by each individual from much of what has
been long forgotten.
It has been asserted by persons,” whose intellectual
... * Lord chief justice Hale; (see Boswell's Life of Johnson, vol.
ii. p. 511, 4to. London, 1791;) not to mention living authorities.


PHYSICAL CHARACTER OF MAN. 31
powers were of the highest order, and whose indus-
try was as remarkable as their abilities, that more
than six or eight hours in each day could not be
employed effectively by the generality of young men
for the purpose of mental improvement. If this how-
ver be the case, and as a general position it probably
is not very far from the truth, in vain does the ambi-
tious student rob nature of that sleep which Provi-
dence has made necessary for the renovation of the
exhausted powers of our mind, as well as of our
body; and in vain also does he attempt to combine
simultaneously the efforts of mental attention with
bodily exercise, or to pursue his severer studies
during the hour of meals: in both which cases, they,
who adopt the custom, not only err in employing too
continuous an application of the powers of the mind;
but in impeding to a certain and often very inconve-
nient degree the process of natural respiration; and,
consequently, of other functions of the body, particu-
larly of digestion. How main a point ought it to be
therefore with those who superintend the education
of young persons, to avoid the application of too great
a strain on the natural spring of the intellectual
powers.
It is questionable whether at any period of life the
correspondence between the external world and the
sensitive and intellectual faculties of man, is so rapid,
so vivid, and so effectual, as during that space which
is intermediate to infancy and adolescence: and this
fact, if it be so, may be explained by that principle of
our nature, on which depends the love of novelty;
namely, that susceptibility of the nerves which makes
them capable of being stimulated more vehemently
by new, than by accustomed impressions: for cer-
tainly this principle is likely to be more exercised in
proportion as we are nearer the period of infancy;
since every impression is then either absolutely new,
or has not yet rendered the nerves dull by too fre-
quent a repetition of its application. Another happy
instance of the harmony that exists between the na-


32 Powers of THE HUMAN HAND,
ture of man and the external world, is the readiness
and confidence with which at this early period of life
the impressions of sense are received. Where all is
new, and therefore equally matter of wonder, there
is yet no room for doubt. Nature teaches the mind
to receive every thing without distrust, and to rely
implicitly on those inlets to knowledge, the impres-
sions of sense, which are destined to be its only
guides in the first years of life. Scepticism is not
the tendency of childhood: and perhaps it is with
reference to the º between the eye of faith
and the eye of sense at this early period of life, that
our Saviour pronounces a blessing upon those who
receive the evidences of our religion with the sim-
plicity of little children.
CHAPTER III.
ON THE POWERS OF THE HUMAN HAND, CONSIDERED AS A
CORPOREAL ORGAN.
At length however, having passed the preparatory
discipline both of natural and of parental education,
and having arrived at the maturity of his powers,
man is fitted to exercise his empire over the external
world.
But before we consider the character of the mate-
rials provided for the supply of his various wants, or
for the exercise of his intellectual faculties, let us
examine more closely than hitherto the condition of
those corporeal organs, by the agency of which he
is enabled to produce the results intended.
There can be no doubt that those organs are, if not
exclusively, at least pre-eminently, the brain and the
hand ; of the latter of which, not only are the uses
of the several parts and of the whole made practi-
cally manifest every moment of our lives; but its
antecedent capabilities are so open to the investigat-


CONSIDERED AS A CORPOREAL ORGAN. 33
ing eye of reason, as to afford one of the readiest
subjects of physical demonstration. And although,
with respect to the brain, we not only have no satis-
factory evidence, but cannot even form a probable
conjecture, of the use or mode of action of any par-
ticular part; yet we cannot doubt that it is the instru-
ment by which our intellectual powers hold commu-
nion with external nature. I shall dedicate therefore
this and the following chapter to the consideration of
the general history of these organs.
It would be an invasion of the province of others
to give an anatomical description of the several con-
stituent parts of the human hand: but in saying that
its adaptation to the various purposes to which it is
applicable is so open to the investigating eye of rea-
son, as to afford one of the readiest subjects of physi-
cal demonstration, a tacit reference was made to
that remarkable part of the writings of Galen, in
which he expatiates upon the capabilities of this
wonderful instrument: and that that extraordinary
writer could hardly have selected a better subject,
for the exercise of his powers in intellectual analysis,
will be readily granted on a perusal of the following
passages; provided they correctly represent the spirit
of the original.
In that portion of his works which bears this title,
“On the Use of the various Parts of the Body,” after
having defined what is to be understood by the term
part, or member, as applied to an animal body, Galen
proceeds in the following manner:* “But all these
parts of the body were made for the use of the soul,
that sentient and intelligent principle which animates
the body, and of which the body is merely the organ;
and on this account the component parts of animals
differ according to the nature of this principle: for
some animals are bold and fierce; others are timid
and gentle: some are gregarious, and co-operate for
their mutual sustenance and defence; others are soli-
* lib. i. cap. 2.


34 POWERS OF THE HUMAN HAND,
tary, and avoid the society of their fellows: but all
have a form or body accommodated to their natural
dispositions and habits. Thus the lion has powerful
fangs and claws; the hare has swiftness of foot, but
in other points is defenceless. And the fitness of this
arrangement is obvious: for those weapons with
which the lion is furnished are as appropriate to his
nature, as they would be useless to the timid hare;
whose safety, depending entirely on flight, requires
that swiftness of foot for which she is so remarkable.
But to man, the only animal that partakes of divine
intelligence, the Creator has given, in lieu of every
other natural weapon or organ of defence, that in-
strument, the hand; an instrument applicable to every
art and occasion, as well of peace as of war. Man
therefore wants not a hoof, or horn, or any other
natural weapon; inasmuch as he is able with his
hand to grasp a much more effective weapon, the
sword or spear. Besides which, natural weapons
can be employed only in close conflict; while some
of the weapons employed by man, as javelins or ar-
rows, are even more effectual at a distance. And,
again, though man may be inferior to the lion in
swiftness, yet by his dexterity and skill he breaks in
to his use a still swifter animal, the horse; mounted
on whose back he can escape from or pursue the
lion, or attack him at every advantage. He is en-
abled moreover by means of this instrument to clothe
himself with armour of various kinds, or to entrench
himself within camps or fenced cities. Whereas
were his hands encumbered with any natural ar-
mour, he would be unable to employ them for the
fabrication of those instruments and means, which
give him such a decided advantage over all the other
animals of creation.
“Nor have we yet enumerated the most important
of those privileges which the hand imparts to man.
With this he weaves the garment that protects him
from the summer's heat, or winter's cold; with this
he forms the various furniture of nets and snares,


CONSIDERED AS A CORPOREAL ORGAN. 35
which give him dominion over the inhabitants as well
of the water as of the air and earth: with his hand
he constructs the lyre and lute, and the numerous
instruments employed in the several arts of life;
with the hand he erects altars and shrines to the im-
mortal gods; and, lastly, by means of the same in-
strument he bequeaths to posterity, in writing, the
intellectual treasures of his own divine imagination:
and hence we, who are living at this day, are en-
abled to hold converse with Plato and Aristotle, and
all the venerable sages of antiquity.”
In reasoning on the utility of the hand, as charac-
teristic of the human species, Galen thus expresses
himself:* “Man being naturally destitute of corpo-
real weapons, as also of any instinctive art, has re-
ceived a compensation, first in the gift of that pecu-
liar instrument the hand, secondly in the gift of rea-
son; by the employment of which two gifts he arms
and protects his body in every mode, and adorns his
mind with the knowledge of every art. For since,
had he been furnished with any natural weapon, he
would have possessed the use of this alone on all oc-
casions; or had he been gifted with any instinctive
art, he would never have attained to the exercise of
other arts; hence he was created destitute of those
insulated and individual means and arts, which cha-
racterize other animals; inasmuch as it is manifestly
preferable to have the power of making use of va-
rious means and various arts. Rightly, therefore,
has Aristotle defined the hand to be the instrument
antecedent to, or productive of, all other instruments:
and rightly might we, in imitation of Aristotle, define
reason, as opposed to instinct, to be the art antece-
dent to, or productive of, all other arts. For as the
hand, though itself no particular organ, is yet capa-
ble of being adapted to all other organs, and is con-
sequently antecedent to them; so reason, though
itself no particular art, is yet capable of comprehend-
* Lib. i. cap. 4.


36 PowerS OF THE HUMAN HAND,
ing and applying all; and may therefore be consider-
ed as an art antecedent to all others. Thus man
alone, of all animals, possessing in his soul this
general and original capacity, is justly endued in his
body with this general and original instrument.”
* “Let us then scrutinize this member of our body;
and inquire, not simply whether it be in itself useful
for all the purposes of life, and adapted to an animal
endued with the highest intelligence; but whether its
entire structure be not such, that it could not be im-
proved by any conceivable alteration.
“In the first place, it possesses in an eminent de-
gree a leading quality of an organ of grasp; since it
readily applies itself to, and securely holds, bodies of
every form and size that are capable of being moved
by human strength. Nor need we inquire whether
it be better for this purpose that it should be divided
into several parts; or, that it should be altogether
undivided: for is it not apparent without further rea-
soning, that had it been undivided, it could have
grasped only just such a portion of every object pre-
sented to it, as was equal to itself; but that, being
divided into many parts, it can both easily grasp
bodies much larger than itself; and can accurately
search out, and lay hold of, the smallest particles of
matter! For to the former it is capable of generally
applying itself so, as to encompass them by the sepa-
ration of the fingers; while in laying hold of very
minute objects, the entire hand is not employed, but
only the tips of two of the fingers: because from the
grasp of the whole hand minute objects would easily
escape.
“Thus then the hand is framed in the manner most
convenient for laying a firm hold on objects both
greater and less than itself. And in order to enable
it to apply itself to objects of various shapes, it is
evidently most convenient that it should be divided
into many parts, as it is: and it seems to be better
* Lib. i. cap. 5.


CONSIDERED AS A CORPOREAL ORGAN. 37
constituted for this purpose than any similar instru-
ment; for it not only can apply itself to substances
of a spherical form, so as to touch them with every
part of itself; but it also can securely hold substances
of a plane or of a concave surface; and, conse-
quently, it can hold substances of any form.
“And, because many bodies are of too great a
size to be held by one hand alone, nature has there-
fore made each hand an assistant to its fellow; so that
the two, when together laying hold of bodies of un-
usual bulk, on opposite sides, are fully equivalent to
a single hand of the very largest dimensions: and, on
this account, the hands are inclined towards, and in
every point are made equal to, each other; which is
at least desirable, if not necessary, in instruments
intended to have a combined action.
“Take then any one of those unwieldly bodies,
which a man can only lay hold of by means of both
his hands, as a millstone or a rafter; or take one of
the smallest objects, as a millet-seed or a hair, or a
minute thorn; or, lastly, reflect on that vast multitude
of objects of every possible size, intermediate to the
greatest and the least of those above mentioned; and
you will find the hands so exactly capable of grasp-
ing each particular one, as if they had been expressly
made for grasping that alone. Thus the smallest
things of all we take up with the tips of the fingers;
those which are a little larger we take up with the
same fingers, but not with the tips of them; sub-
stances still larger we take up with three fingers, and
so on with four, or with all the five fingers, or even
with the whole hand: all which we could not do,
were not the hand divided, and divided precisely as
it is. For suppose the thumb were not placed as it
is, in opposition to the other four fingers, but that all
the five were ranged in the same line; is it not evi-
dent that in this case their number would be useless?
For in order to have a firm hold of any thing, it is
necessary either to grasp it all round, or at least to
grasp it in two opposite points; neither of which
D


38 POWERS OF THE HUMAN HAND,
would have been possible, if all the five fingers had
been placed in the same plane: but the end is now
fully attainable, simply in consequence of the position
of the thumb; which is so placed, and has exactly
such a degree of motion, as, by a slight inclination,
to be easily made to co-operate with any one of the
four fingers. And no one can doubt that nature pur-
posely gave to the hands a form adapted to that mode
of action, which they are observed to have ;” while
in the feet, where extent of surface is wanted for
support, all the toes are arranged in the same plane.
f But, to return to a point which we were just now
considering, it is not merely necessary in laying hold
of minute objects to employ the extremities of the
fingers opposed to each other, but that those extre-
mities should be exactly of the character they are,
namely soft, and round, and furnished with nails: for
if the tips of the fingers were of bone, and not of
flesh, we could not then lay hold of such minute bo-
dies as thorns or hairs; or if they were of a softer
and moister substance than flesh, neither then could
such small bodies have been secured. For, in order
that a body may be firmly held, it is necessary that it
be in some degree infolded in the substance holding
it; which condition could not have been fulfilled by a
hard or bony material; and on the other hand, a ma-
terial too soft would easily yield to substances of
which it attempted to lay hold, and would continu-
ally let them escape: whereas the extremities of the
fingers are just of that intermediate degree of con-
sistence, which is calculated for their intended use.
I “But, since tangible substances vary much in
their degree of hardness, nature has adapted the
structure of the extremities of the fingers to that cir-
cumstance: for they are not formed either entirely
of flesh, or of the substance called nail; but of a most
convenient combination of the two: thus those parts
which are capable of being mutually brought in appo-
* Lib. ii. cap. 9. + Lib. i. cap. 6. f Lib. i. cap. 7.


CONSIDERED AS A CORPOREAL ORGAN. 39
sition, and which are employed in feeling for minute
objects, are fleshy; while the nails are placed exter-
nally, as a support to the former. For the fingers
are capable of holding soft substances, simply by the
fleshy or soft part of their extremity; but they could
not hold hard substances without the assistance of
nails; deprived of the support of which the flesh
would be forced out of its position. And on the
other hand, we could not lay hold of hard substances
by means of the nails alone; for these being them-
selves hard, would easily slip from the contact of
hard bodies.
“Thus then the soft flesh at the tips of the fingers
compensating for the unyielding nature of the nails,
and the nails giving support to the yielding softness
of the flesh, the fingers are hereby rendered capable
of holding substances that are both small and hard.
And this will be more evident, if you consider the
effect of an unusual length of the nails; for where
the nails are immoderately long, and consequently
come in contact with each other, they cannot lay
hold of any minute object, as a small thorn or a hair:
while, on the other hand, if, from being unusually
short, they do not reach to the extremities of the fin-
gers, minute bodies are incapable of being held
through defect of the requisite support: but if they
reach exactly to the extremities of the fingers, they
then, and then only, fulfil the intention for which they
were made. The nails, however, are applicable to
many other purposes besides those which have been
mentioned; as in polishing and scraping, and in tear-
ing and peeling off the skin of vegetables, or animals:
and in short, in almost every art where nicety of
execution is required, the nails are called into
action.”
In alluding to the sceptics of his time, the language
of Galen is as follows. * “Whoever admires not the
skill and contrivance of nature, must either be defi-
* Lib. iii. cap. 10.


40 PowerS OF THE HUMAN HAND,
cient in intellect, or must have some private motive,
which withholds him from expressing his admiration.
He must be deficient in intellect, if he do not per-
ceive that the human hand possesses all those quali-
fications which it is desirable it should possess; or if
he think that it might have had a form and construc-
tion preferable to that which it has: or he must be
prejudiced, by having imbibed some wretched opi-
nions, consistently with which he could not allow that
contrivance is observable in the works of nature.”
Galen then thus sums up this part of the argument.
“The contrivances of nature are so various, and so
consummately skilful, that the wisest of mankind, in
endeavouring to search them out, have not yet been
able to discover them all.”f And nearly in the same
words, expressive of the same sentiment, does Solo-
mon say—“Then I beheld all the work of God, that
a man cannot find out the work that is done under
the sun: because though a man labour to seek it out,
yet he shall not find it; yea farther; though a wise
man think to know it, yet shall he not be able to find
it.”f
I may be permitted, perhaps, to subjoin a passage
from another part of the same work of Galen, though
not confined to the same subject; in which, after
having noticed many evidences of design in the con-
struction of the human body, particularly the adap-
* Galen adds: “Such persons we are bound to pity, as being
originally infatuated with respect to so main a point; while at the
same time it behooves us to proceed in the instruction of those
happier individuals, who are not only possessed of a sound intel-
lect, but of a love of truth.”
On another occasion, in reprobating such cavillers, he says:
(lib. iii. cap. 10.) “But if I waste more time on such profligates,
virtuous men might justly accuse me of polluting this sacred ar-
gument, which I have composed as a sincere hymn to the praise
and honour of the Creator; being persuaded that true piety to
him consists, not in the sacrifice of whole hecatombs of oxen, nor
in the offer of a thousand varieties of incense; but in believing
within ourselves, and in declaring to others, how great he is in
wisdom, power, and goodness.”
# Lib. x. cap. 10. f Eccles. viii. 17.


CONSIDERED AS A CORPOREAL ORGAN. 41
tation, in the number and size of the parts, to the
effect to be produced, he breaks out into this remark-
able apostrophe; * “How can a man of any intelli-
gence refer all this to chance, as its cause: or, if he
deny this to be the effect of foresight and skill, I
would ask, what is there that foresight and skill do
effect? For surely where chance or fortune act, we
see not this correspondence and regularity of parts.
I am not very solicitous about terms; but if you
choose to call that chance which has so nicely con-
structed and so justly distributed all the parts of an
animal body, do so; only remember and allow, that
in so doing you do not fairly exercise the privilege
of framing new terms: for in this way you may call
the meridian splendour of the sun by the name of
night; and the sun itself, darkness. What! was it
chance that made the skin give way so as to produce
a mouth' or, if this happened by chance, did chance
also place teeth and a tongue within that mouth'
For, if so, why should there not be teeth and a
tongue in the nostrils, or in the ear?” Or, to carry
on a similar appeal, “did chance dispose the teeth
themselves in their present order; which if it were
any other than it is, what would be the consequence?
If, for instance, the incisors and canine teeth had oc-
cupied the back part of the mouth, and the molar or
grinding teeth had occupied the front, what use
could we have made of either? Shall we then ad-
mire the skill of him who disposes a chorus of thirty-
two men in just order; and can we deny the skill of
the Creator, in disposing the same number of teeth
in an order so convenient, so necessary even for our
existence 7”
He then extends the argument to the teeth of other
animals, as corresponding with the nature of their
food; and also to the form of their feet, as having a
relation to the character of their teeth.
“Never,” says Cuvier, one of the most experienced
*Lib. xi. cap. 7 and 8.
D 2


42 ON THE BRAIN.
physiologists of the present age, “never do you see
in nature the cloven hoof of the ox joined with the
pointed fang of the lion; nor the sharp talons of the
eagle accompanying the flattened beak of the swan.”
In corresponding expressions Galen exclaims,
*“How does it happen that the teeth and talons of
the leopard and lion should be similar; as also the
teeth and hoofs of the sheep and goat; that in ani-
mals which are by nature courageous, there should
be found sharp and strong weapons, which are never
found in those animals that are by nature timid:
or, lastly, that in no animal do we meet with a com-
bination of powerful talons with inoffensive teeth !
How should this happen, but that they are all the
work of a Creator, who ever kept in mind the use
and mutual relation of different organs, and the final
purpose of all his works?”
CHAPTER IV.
ON THE BRAIN, considerED AS THE ORGAN OF THE
INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES.
It can no more be doubted that many of the phe-
nomena of nature, and the important practical and
º conclusions deduced from them, would
ave been hitherto concealed from human know-
ledge, had man failed to exercise those intellectual
faculties with which the Creator has endued him;
than that political communities would have failed to
exist, and social life to be adorned with the arts of
civilization, had all mankind determined to pursue
the mode of life adopted by savage tribes: nor can
it be doubted that the Creator, in imparting to man
* Lib. xi, cap. 8. ed. Kühn, vol. iii. p. 875. lin. 3–17. and p.
892. lin. 12–17.


44 ON THE BRAIN.
thought and reason:* the truth of which assertion is
evident from various metaphorical terms expressive
both of intellectual defect and of intellectual excel-
lence.
It may be presumed that, without the aid afforded
by the study of anatomy or natural history, the most
cursory observer might discover that the indications
of intelligence manifested by the various classes of
animals generally correspond in degree with their
approximation in physical structure to man; and
that, if we confine our view to the four highest
classes, namely, fish, reptiles, birds, and quadrupeds,
and consider them with reference to their respective
degree of docility; fish and reptiles, which are the
lowest in the scale, will readily be allowed to be in-
ſerior to birds, which are a degree higher in the
scale; and these again will with equal readiness be
allowed to be inferior to quadrupeds, which are the
highest.
And it would be acknowledged upon a more accu-
rate investigation, that, although there are at first
sight some seeming exceptions to the regularity of
gradation, the apparent anomalies vanish when put
to the test of a philosophical examination. Should
it be said, for instance, that the bee or the ant shows
greater indications of intelligence than many species
much higher in the scale of animal creation, it may
be answered that those indications are manifested in
actions which are referable to instinct, rather than
intelligence; actions namely, which being essential
to the existence of the individuals, and the preserva-
tion of the species, are apparently determined by
some internal impulse which animals unconsciously
obey. Nor does it militate against such a notion of
instinct, that when accidental impediments prevent
* “—and his pure brain,
Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling house,
Doth, by the idle comments which it makes,
Foretell the ending of mortality.”
King John, Act 5, Scene 7.


ON THE BRAIN. 45
the regular evolution of the comb, taking that as an
instance, the bee accommodates the arrangement of
its fabric to the impediment which is placed in its
way: for such a modification of instinct is as clearly
necessary in the case of an occasional impediment,
as instinct itself is necessary for the general purpose.
In speaking of instinct I purposely avoid a formal
definition of the term: for any attempt to define with
accuracy a principle, of the real nature of which we
are ignorant, usually leaves us in a state of greater
darkness than we were before; of which the follow-
ing extraordinary attempt, with reference to the very
principle now under consideration, is a sufficient illus-
tration. It is quoted from an author of the name of
Wagner, in a work on the Brain of Man and other
Animals, written by Wenzel and his brother; and is
as follows: “The instincts of animals are nothing
more than inert or passive attractions derived from
the power of sensation: and the instinctive opera-
tions of animals nothing more than crystallizations
produced through the agency of that power.”
Of the general position, then, that the brain is the
instrument of intelligence, and that the degree of in-
telligence characteristic of different classes of ani-
mals is proportional to the approximation of their
structure to that of man, it may for the present be
presumed that no one doubts,
* “Instinctus animalium nihil aliud sunt, quam attractiones
mortua a sensibilitate profecte; et eorum artificia nihil aliud
quam crystallizationes per sensibilitatem producte.” Wenzel,
De penitiori Structura Cerebri. Tubinge, fol. 1812, p. 948, lib, x,


46
CHAPTER V.
THE NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS IN GENERAL.
SECTION I.
The Nervous System of the inferior Animals.
As the peculiarities in the structure of the human
brain cannot be understood without a reference not
only to the brain but to the nervous system at large
of other animals; it will be necessary to take such a
survey of that system as may be sufficient for the
present purpose.
In the lowest species of animals, which appear to
be devoid of any specific organs of digestion, motion,
or sensation; whose economy indeed only enables
them to contribute, in a mode as yet unknown, to the
nutrition and preservation of the individual, or to the
continuation of the species, no distinct nervous sys-
tem has yet been discovered, or at least satisfactorily
demonstrated: it is presumed rather than known that
in such animals there exists a variable number of
small insulated masses of nervous matter called
ganglions, which are connected with each other, and
with different parts of the body, by means of slender
filaments that radiate from these masses in various
directions.
In ascending the scale of animal existence we
meet with species, in which, though devoid of organs
of sense and motion, there exist distinct organs of
digestion; and in such species the upper part of the
passage leading from the mouth to the stomach is
usually surrounded by a kind of collar, from whence
distinct nerves are distributed to the other parts of
the body.
In ascending still higher the scale of animal exist-


NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 47
ence we find, together with a greater symmetry of
structure in the whole individual, additional compo-
nent parts of the nervous system, and a greater de-
gree of regularity in the distribution of these super-
added parts. Thus in those classes of animals which
include the leech, the centipede, and the bee, whose
bodies are naturally divisible into distinct segments,
we find a series of ganglions placed opposite the re-
spective segments, and sending out nerves which are
appropriated to the muscles of voluntary motion
attached to these segments: and the several ganglions
are reciprocally united by intervening portions of a
nervous cord, which is continued from one extremity
of the body to the other; so as to present the appear-
ance of a thread in which knots have been tied at
stated intervals. And in those species of these classes
which have eyes, as is the case with insects, there
are additional ganglions near the head; from which
arise the nerves of vision, and, probably, of touch.
If, in ascending still higher the scale of animal
existence, we examine the nervous system of fish,
reptiles, birds, and quadrupeds, we find that those
parts which are subservient to the nutrition of the
individual, and to the continuation of the species, are
supplied with ganglions and nerves corresponding in
their general character and mode of distribution with
the nervous system of the lower classes: and that
the arrangement of the nerves of voluntary motion
merely differs from that of the intermediate classes,
in being more elaborate; the individual nerves all
communicating with a continuous cord which ex-
tends from one extremity of the body to the other;
but which, instead of floating loosely in the general
cavity of the body, as in insects, &c. is contained in
a canal essentially consisting of a series of parts
called vertebrae, which taken together form what is
called the spine or backbone. From the structure of
this spine these classes are called vertebrated: and it
is deserving of notice that these classes alone have a
cranium, or skull.


48 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS.
The nervous cord above described is known more
familiarly under the name of the spinal marrow, a
term which is derived from its resemblance, in some
of its physical characters, to the oil contained in the
interior of the bones of man and various other ani-
mals.
That portion of the spinal cord which is contigu-
ous to the head is continued into the cavity of the
skull; and is there apparently lost in a more or less
regular mass of nervous matter called the brain:
which is small, and simple in its structure, in fish;
larger, and more complicated, progressively, in rep-
tiles, birds, and quadrupeds; largest, and most com-
plicated, in man. From the lower surface of the
brain arise several pairs of nerves which are princi-
pally distributed upon the organs of the distinct
senses, and the muscles of the face: and it is worthy
of observation, that while the muscles of mere animal
motion, as of the trunk and extremities, are derived
from the spinal marrow ; the muscles of the face,
which may be called pre-eminently the muscles of
moral and intellectual expression, are derived from
the brain itself.
In ascending then from fish, the lowest of the four
classes of vertebral animals, to quadrupeds which
constitute the highest class, the general mass of the
brain upon the whole increases in proportional size;
and at the same time it also more and more resem-
bles that of man both in its general form, and in the
character and proportions of its several parts. But
the human brain, when fully developed, contains
parts which do not exist in the brain of those animal
species which approach nearest to man in the struc-
ture of this part.*
* It may be convenient here to state that the human brain is
naturally divisible into two parts, called the cerebrum and cere-
bellum ; of which the former is eight or nine times larger than
the latter. The cerebrum, which occupies nearly the whole of
the cavity of the skull, consists of two parts, called hemispheres:
and it should be particularly borne in mind that it is with refer-
ence to the great size of its hemispheres that the human brain
exceeds that of all other animals.


NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 49
It cannot be uninteresting in an inquiry like the
present to add, with respect to those occasional de-
viations from the common form, called monsters and
lusus naturae, that nature never elevates the brain of
an individual of a lower to that of a higher class;
though the brain of an individual of a higher is fre-
quently not developed beyond the degree of a lower:
and this law of the developement of the brain is, with
reference at least to the distinction of classes, corre-
spondent with that of the general form. Thus a lusus
naturae or monster in the class of quadrupeds, for
instance, or of birds, may have two heads, or eight
legs; but the supernumerary parts will be always
those of its own class, indeed of its own species: and
therefore it is absurd to suppose that if there be no
mixture of species in the same class, there should
ever be a confusion of two distinct kingdoms of na-
ture. - -
Horace, than whom no one better understood the
principles of imaginative or artificial poetry, knew
that abrupt combinations of heterogeneous subjects
would certainly offend a correct taste, because unna-
tural: for taste, it may be affirmed, is, in one of its
essential attributes, a feeling in harmony with natu-
ral combinations; whether the individual combina-
tion be that of sounds, or colours, or forms, or of in-
tellectual images, or moral sentiments: and nature,
which may be pre-eminently called the réz's won rich,
though she may occasionally surprise the mind by
unusual combinations of organs natural to the species,
never so couples together i. organs, as
that the limbs of animals of one species should be
united with those of another species; in short, as
Horace himself expresses the conception,
44 Non ut.
Serpentes avibus geminentur, tigribus agni.”
* The subject of lusus nature, or monsters, will be resumed
towards the conclusion of this treatise.
E
*


50 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS.
SECTION II.
The Nervous System of Man.
THE nervous system of man, without any refer-
ence to that of other animals, naturally resolves itself
into three sufficiently distinct divisions: of which one
is appropriated to those parts, which characterize
him as simply an organized being; another, to his
powers of voluntary motion; the third, or the brain,
to the organs of the several senses, and, probably, to
the manifestation of the intellectual powers and moral
affections.
Of the two first of the foregoing divisions it is not
necessary to speak more at large; because no doubt
exists in the minds of physiologists as to the nature
of their offices. But this is not the case with respect
to the brain; which therefore demands a greater
share of our attention.
Of all the parts of the nervous system taken col-
lectively, the brain has been mostgenerally considered
as the organ of the mind: and it has long been a fa-
vourite speculation to endeavour to ascertain what
part of this organ is subservient to the existence and
exercise of those intellectual powers and moral feel-
ings, which to a greater or less extent are possessed
by many other animals as well as man. It is pre-
sumed at least that of the existence of intellectual
powers or moral feelings in brutes no one can doubt,
who has been at all accustomed to observe the cha-
racters and habits of animals;* so that when in com-
mon language it is asserted that man differs from
other animals in possessing reason, while they are
irrational, the term reason must be taken in its most
* Aristotle, in his History of Animals, distinctly affirms such
an existence—ing ri yºgi, reis waii-ret; zal r&n ºaxay &ay
*xrn rā, ºrieſ ºr ºvzºv reiray, ºrie iri rºz &ºgºra, ixu
ºarstanics; ra; 21st eggs—p. 212, lin. 7-10. ed. Bekker.


NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 51
extended sense, as implying the aggregate faculties
of man, both moral and intellectual.
I will not here insist on the evidence of the intel-
lectual powers of brutes, as deducible from the effects
of what we call instinct; because in all those actions
which are the result of instinct, animals appear to be
guided by a natural and irresistible impulse from
within, which leads them to seek or to avoid that
which will be either useful or injurious to them; and
enables them to perform the most complicated acts,
as the building of a nest or the construction of a comb,
though they may never even have seen the same acts
performed by other individuals of their species. I
would rather insist on that evidence of their intel-
lectual powers, which is derived from their conduct,
when, in consequence of having been removed from
their natural sphere of action, they are impelled
by external and accidental circumstances. Thus
the wariness of old animals in avoiding the pursuit
or arts of man, and the sagacity with which a prac-
tised hound will cut off an angle in order to shorten
his distance, may be considered as proofs of a con-
siderable degree of intellectual rather than of in-
stinctive prudence in brutes.
The playfulness of the young of most quadrupeds,
often indeed observable in the adult animal also, may
be regarded as no obscure proof of the exercise of the
intellectual faculty which we call imagination; for
that playfulness almost always consists in the repre-
sentation of mutual hostility, though the real disposi-
tion at the same time is any thing but hostile. The
dog for instance, under such circumstances, snarls
and bites, but with evident intention not to hurt.
Of the existence of moral feelings in brutes, there
is still more decided proof than of the existence of
intellect. Thus the expression of joy in a dog at sight
of his master is not to be mistaken, and the expression
of fear in a horse at the sound of the whip is equally
unequivocal in its character. Again, animals be-
come attached not only to individuals of their own


52 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS.
species, but to individuals of even a different order
or class; and they evidently feel regret upon separa-
tion from these their companions.
On the supposition that the brain is the organ of
the intellectual powers, physiologists have been led
to compare the proportions of the whole and of its
several regions in man and brutes; in order to arrive
at a knowledge of such facts as might serve for a
basis for ascertaining which, are the parts essential
to its action as such an organ. It has been supposed
by some that the intellectual faculties may be in pro-
portion to the absolute size of the brain; such an
opinion being grounded on the fact, that the human
brain is larger than that of the horse or ox. But on
the other hand, the brain of the whale or of the ele-
phant taken in its whole mass is larger than that of
man; though the intelligence even of the elephant
bears no proportion to that of the human mind.
Again, the brain of the monkey or of the dog is
smaller than that of the ox or the ass; yet with
respect to their intellectual faculties the former ap-
proximate much more closely to man than the latter.
Neither do the dispositions or qualities of animals
appear to be connected with the absolute size of their
brain: for animals most different and even opposite
in disposition may be ranged in the same class with
reference to the size of this organ; the tiger and the
deer, for instance, among quadrupeds; and among
birds, the hawk and the pigeon.
It would appear probable from some instances,
that the proportional size of the brain with reference
to the size of the body would give a more uniform
result. Thus a crocodile twelve feet in length, a ser-
pent eighteen feet in length, and a turtle that weighs
from three hundred to five hundred pounds, have not
any of them a quantity of substance in their brain
equal to half an ounce; and the slight degree of in-
tellectual power manifested by these animals corre-
sponds with such a proportion. But on examination
it appears that the proportional size of the brain is


NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 53
not a more certain criterion than the absolute size.
The brain of the elephant, for instance, is smaller in
proportion to its body than that of any other quad-
ruped: and yet what quadruped exceeds the elephant
in sagacity' and, in comparing many of the inferior
animals with man in this respect, it is found that not
only do different genera of the same order differ very
widely from each other in the proportion of their
brain to their body, as the bat and the fox; but that
the proportion is sometimes inversely as the degree
of intellect of the animal: thus, as far as we are
capable of judging, the intellect of the fox is infinitely
greater than that of the bat, and yet the brain of the
former, proportionally to its body, is only one half
the size of the latter. Occasionally the disproportion
is still greater in different species of the same genus,
and even in different varieties of the same species:
thus in some dogs the brain compared with the body
is as one to fifty, while in others it is as one to three
hundred. -
Again, it appears that the brain of some of the
genera of the lowest orders in a class is proportion-
ally larger than that of some of the genera of the
highest orders. Thus, in the mammalia, the brain of
the dolphin, which animal is in the lowest order of
that class, is in proportion to its body four times as
large as the brain of the fox, which is an animal of
one of the highest orders. And the brain of the
mouse and of the mole are nearly, if not quite as
large, in proportion to their body, as that of man.
And the same circumstance occurs even in the se-
cond class, or birds; for the brain of the sparrow is
in proportion to the body as large as, nay even
larger, than that of man.
Lastly, for it is unnecessary, and would be tedious,
to enter further into the detail of this part of the sub-
ject, there does not appear to be any connexion be-
tween the degree of intellectual faculties and the
mutual proportions of the several constituent parts of
the brain; or between the degree of the intellectual
- E 2


54 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS.
faculties and the mutual proportions of the brain and
nerves. So that it appears, from a review of what
has been advanced, that no criterion of the degree of
intellect is found in the absolute size of the brain;
nor in its relative size, as compared with that of the
body of the individual; nor in the relative size of its
constituent parts, or of the whole of it, to the nerves.
SECTION III.
Indications of natural Talent and ſº deduci-
ble from the Structure of the Brain.
If the entire history of the brain were a primary
object in this treatise, it would be right here to inves-
tigate in detail the observations and theory of Dr.
Gall respecting this organ: but on the present occa-
sion it will be unnecessary to refer to that theory
further than may be required by the course of the
argument.
he simple enunciation of Dr. Gall's theory is this,
that “the brain in general is the instrument by which
the intellectual faculties, and the moral sentiments
and propensities, are manifested; particular parts of
it being the organs of those several faculties, senti-
ments, and propensities: and that according to the
state of these organs will be the faculties, sentiments,
and propensities of each individual.”
To those who have objected to this theory, that it
leads towards the doctrines of fatalism, and the ma-
terial nature of the soul, it has been answered; first,
that as, according to the theory, no individual, who
is endued with intellect, is deficient in the organs of
those moral sentiments, which, if cultivated, will be
sufficient to counteract whatever bad propensities he
may have, the theory cannot consistently be accused
of inculcating the doctrine of fatalism: and secondly,
that without inquiring what the soul is, or in what
manner it is united to the body in this life, which Dr.


56 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS.
with the rest, were much quicker in apprehending
what was taught them: and further, by observing in
different individuals of the same species of animals,
as dogs, that some were fierce, some mild: again,
that in birds of the same species some continued to
sing their own notes only, while others would listen
to, and imitate, artificial music : and with reference
to the last mentioned instance particularly, he argued
that the difference could not arise from the greater
or less degree of perfection in the organ of hearing,
for it is the same in both; but must be looked for in
the brain, to which the organ of hearing conveys
sounds; and in which, and not in the ear itself, they
are perceived. There are moreover numerous in-
stances which show that the sense of hearing is by
no means in proportion to the degree of perfection
in the construction of the ear. Thus, the dog hears
with indifference the sweetest melody: and yet the
construction of his ear approximates more to that of
man than the construction of the ear of even the
most musical birds. And on this point Dr. Gall asks,
if the organ of hearing determine the power of sing-
ing, why should the female bird be mute, seeing that
in this part of its bodily construction it differs not
from the male' It is equally observable that in men
the talent for music is not in proportion to any supe-
riority in the organ of hearing; in the construction
of which indeed there is little if any apparent differ-
ence between any two individuals.
Partial insanity and partial idiocy are among the
circumstances which Dr. Gall considers as favouring
his theory. The frequency of the former must be a
fact well known to all : the latter is not uncommon;
and even persons of considerable intelligence occa-
sionally exhibit very obscure traces of this or that
particular faculty. Other arguments in favour of his
system he draws from the temporary effects pro-
duced by cerebral inflammation on the state of the
mental powers: in the case, for instance, of idiots,
who during the inflammatory action have manifested


NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 57
a considerable degree of understanding; but after the
cessation of that action have relapsed into their for-
mer state of fatuity.
It would seem, in the instances here adduced by
Dr. Gall, that the mental faculties which had been
previously in a state of fatuity, are rendered for the
time rational, in consequence of a degree of excite-
ment which in individuals not labournig under fa-
tuity would have probably produced delirium: and,
as a rational state of the faculties may be considered,
to use a mathematical expression, as a mean pro-
portional to fatuity and delirium, it might be expect-
ed that the same cause which would raise a rational
state of the faculties to delirium, would raise an
idiotic only to a natural state: as, in a similar man-
ner, wine is observed to modify the characters of
individuals of different temperaments, by elevating
them for the moment:
“It keeps the unhappy from sinking,
And makes e'en the valiant more brave.”
It would occupy too much time to enter into the
detail of this interesting part of Dr. Gall's system:
nor was more originally intended than to introduce
the subject to the consideration of those, who happen
not to have reflected on it before, in such a manner
as to enable them to form some judgment of the
merits of a theory, the character of which has been
injured to the full as much by its injudicious friends
as by its professed enemies. Of this theory it may
perhaps be affirmed with truth, that, considered as
an abstract philosophical speculation, it is highly in-
genious, and founded upon unobjectionable prin-
ciples: and that while the general conclusion is
inevitable with respect to the collective functions of
the brain, there is nothing unreasonable in supposing
that specific parts serve specific purposes. The rock,
on which Dr. Gall and his implicit advocates have
split, is the attempt to fix the local boundaries of the
several faculties of the soul. Had he satisfied him-


NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 59
destructiveness, that organ would be found highly
developed in such an individual; and yet, upon ac-
tual inspection, this were not found to be the case.
Here, although the disciple of Dr. Gall might be dis-
appointed in finding no such developement, a plain
reasoner would not be so disappointed: for is it not
obvious that avarice, or shame, or jealousy, might in
a moment operate so powerfully as to lead an indi-
vidual to the crime of murder, whose nature and
habits were as far as possible removed from the pro-
pensity to that crime; and who, consequently, ac-
cording to Dr. Gall's own principles, would be devoid
of any undue developement of the organ of murder?
With respect to ourselves indeed, the study of the
system may be attended sometimes with the happiest
consequences: for if, from the contemplation of it,
we can be strengthened in our conviction of the fact,
which both reason and revelation teach us, that each
individual is liable to particular temptations depend-
ing on his specific temperament, we shall thus have
one additional memento of our frailty, one additional
incentive to watch over, and combat “the sin which
doth so easily beset us.”
SECTION IV.
The general Doctrine Á, Physiognomy, as connected
with the Form of the Body. ;
As the indiscreet zeal, not only of Dr. Gall, but of
physiognomists in general, has thrown unmerited
discredit on that department of speculative philo-
sophy which they have cultivated, it may be worth
while to examine the subject on other authority than
that of professed physiognomists. -
There are many phenomena, then, connected with
the moral and intellectual faculties of man, both in a
healthy and diseased state, which, by showing the
reciprocal influence of the two distinct parts of our
nature, the soul and the body, render it probable that


60 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS.
the energies of the former, although it be itself im-
material, may be manifested by means of a material
instrument. The existence of this reciprocal influ-
ence, which indeed we might expect from their inti-
mate though mysterious union, cannot be denied.
Thus grief or expectation destroys appetite; and
mental application to any fovourite pursuit makes us
insensible of the want of food: and, on the other
hand, a disordered state of the digestive organs
evidently impedes the free exercise of the mental
powers; or oppresses the soul with those dreadful,
though really groundless apprehensions, which have
been termed hypochondriacal from the situation of
the organs, the morbid state of which is supposed to
give rise to those apprehensions. Again, intoxication
confuses the memory and judgment; and the repeat-
ed abuse of wine permanently debilitates the mind,
and often terminates in confirmed insanity. The
state of the air affects the mental energies and moral
feelings of many individuals, to a degree inconceiv-
able to those who are not thus subject to its influ-
ence. And the impression of fear has been known
suddenly to arrest the symptoms of endemic ague
and epilepsy.
The general idea that this connexion of the soul
and body may be traced in the conformation of the
latter, it will be at once remembered, is by no means
new: and the anecdote of the unfavourable judg-
ment passed on the moral disposition of Socrates,
from i. character of his countenance, will readily
recur to the mind on this occasion. Aristotle has
even entered into some details on the forms and
shades of colour of the hair and features, and indeed
of various other parts of the body, as indicative of
particular temperaments or constitutions of the mind.“
*For an exposition of Aristotle's views on this subject, consult
a work of Galen, entitled IIE PITQN THX +YXHX Heo N,
in which the question of the connexion between the faculties of
the soul and the conformation of the body is discussed. Galen.
op. Kühn, vol. iv. p. 768–798.


NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 63
within us constantly struggling for the mastery; and
that, spite of our better part, and against the strongest
feelings of conscience and determination of judg-
ment, we still are for ever yielding to the worse 1
Shall we deny that the tendencies to evil are dif-
ferent in character in different individuals; and by
that denial shall we attempt to falsify the testimony
of experience as to the fact itself; and the conclu-
sions of antecedent reasoning as to its probability:
for, if all men were avaricious for instance, or am-
bitious in the same points, where would be the field
for the display of other qualities; and how could the
affairs of the world be conducted?
But whatever may be the real state of the case—
whether the brain act as a simple organ by the simul-
taneous operation of all its parts; or whether those
parts act independently in the production of specific
effects—no one can doubt that the organ itself is the
mysterious instrument by means of which, princi-
pally, if not exclusively, a communication is main-
tained between the external world and the soul.
Nor can it be doubted, indeed it is a matter of fact
which is constantly open to our observation, that the
degree of approximation in the structure of the brain
of other animals to that of man bears a very obvious
relation to the degree of intelligence manifested by
the various classes of animals: so that, in just rea-
soning, it must on every consideration be admitted
to be the instrument by which the various degrees of
intelligence are manifested.
It is a matter also of observation, that the powers
of the mind are capable, like those of the body, of
being strengthened by exercise and cultivation: and,
further, that not only do the mental faculties gradually
manifest themselves from the moment of birth on-
wards; but that the physical developement of the
brain advances proportionally up to a certain period.
But on this point it will be desirable to make a few
more particular remarks.


64 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS-
SECTION V.
The Developement of the Human Brain, compared with
that of other Animals.
THE brain of all vertebral animals, including even
man, is nearly identical in structure in the early pe-
riod of the embryo state of those animals. But at
the period of birth there is a very remarkable diſ-
ference between the degree of developement of the
human brain, and of that of the inferior animals. In
quadrupeds for instance, the brain, according to
Wenzel, is fully developed at the moment of the birth
of the individual; contains, that is, at that time, all
the parts in as perfect a state as they are in the adult
animal of the same species (Wenzel, p. 246:) while,
with respect to the human species, it is asserted by
Wenzel, and his statement is confirmed by the obser-
vations of others, that although the brain makes con-
tinual and rapid advances to its ultimate magnitude
and perfect state, from the period of conception to
the seventh year after birth, yet all the parts have
not attained their full size till the age of seven years
(p. 254.) And this difference is exactly what might
be antecedently expected, from the comparatively
greater degree of intelligence manifested by the
young of other animals, of the higher orders at least,
than by the human infant. -
But it is very worthy of observation, that those
parts of the human brain, which are formed subse-
quently to birth, are entirely wanting in all other
animals, including even quadrupeds, which Wenzel
has examined (p. 246:) and that during the evolution
of the parts peculiar to the human brain, the pecu-
liar faculties of the human intellect are proportion-
ally developed: and finally, that, till those parts are
developed, those faculties are not clearly perceptible
(Wenzel, p. 247.) But at the age of seven years the
human being essentially possesses, although not yet


NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 65
matured by exercise and education, all those intel-
lectual faculties which are thenceforward observable:
and at that age the brain is perfect in all its parts.
And, from the age of seven years to the age of
eighty, the changes of the human brain with respect
to size, either collectively or in its several parts, are
so trifling as hardly to be worth notice (p. 247–
266.)
In comparing either individual actions or the com-
plicated operations of man, with those of other ani-
mals, it is observable, that the actions and operations
of the adult human being as much excel in design
and method the actions and operations of all other
adult animals, as those of the infant are excelled in
precision and adroitness by the young of all other
animals (p. 247.) and both these facts correspond
with the relative constitution of the brain at the re-
spective periods; the brain of other animals being
perfect at birth, which is not the case with the infant;
while the brain of the adult human being manifests
a higher degree of organization than that of any
other animal, and is therefore physically fitted for
functions of a higher order.
It appears then highly probable, both from the in-
tuitive conviction of mankind at large, and from a
comparative examination of the structure and deve-
lopement of the brain in man and other animals, that
the intellectual superiority of man, physically consi-
dered, depends on the peculiarities of the human
brain: and with respect to the rest of his body, it is
certain that the hand is the instrument which gives
him that decidedly physical superiority which he pos-
sesses over all other animals. In all other respects
there is no physiological difference, of any import-
ance at least to the present argument, between man
and the higher orders of animals: and the peculiari-
ties of his physical condition, with reference to the
form and general powers of his body, rest therefore
on those two organs, the hand and the brain. And
as the adaptation of the external world to the physi-
F 2


66 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS.
cal condition of man must have a special reference
to those peculiarities in his structure which distin-
guish him essentially from other animals, it has
therefore been thought important to dedicate a con-
siderable portion of this treatise to the investigation
of the characters of the two organs above mentioned.
SECTION VI.
Cursory View of the Ectent of Human Power over the
Objects of the external World.
HAving examined, as far as is necessary for the
purpose of this treatise, the animal character of man,
both with respect to the points in which he partakes
of the nature of other species, and those in which he
is elevated above them; let us proceed to consider
the adaptation of the external world to the physical
condition of that being to whom the Creator has
given dominion over all his other works; whom
alone, of all the living tenants of the earth, he has
endued with a mind capable of conceiving, and cor-
poreal powers capable of executing those wonderful
combinations, which make him lord of the world
which he inhabits; which enable him to compel the
properties of inert matter to bend to his behests; and
to direct not only the energies of the inferior animals,
but even those of his fellow creatures, to the purposes
which he may have in view.
In contemplating, for instance, as in all the pride
of its appointments it advances through the waves,
the majestic movements of a man-of-war, let us trace
its whole history, and thence admire the extent of
human power over the material world. Look at the
rude canoe of the New Zealander, or call to mind
the nearly as rude coracle of our own forefathers,
and compare those simple and puny products of an
infant art with the complicated and gigantic triumph
of naval architecture now before you; and no wonder
if, observing the ease and precision of its movements,


NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 67
the unlettered savages of the islands of the Pacific
conceived the stupendous machine to be some form
of animated matter; whose fierce nature and awful
power were announced by the tremendous roar and
destructive effects of its artillery.
Or, passing from inert matter to living and intel-
lectual agents, let us in imagination first view the
tumultuary and predatory incursions of the aboriginal
borderers of the Ohio, or even of the more civilized
tribes of modern Arabia; revenge or booty their sole
objects, without any plan of civil government or na-
tional aggrandizement; and then let us contemplate
the profound views and combinations of the Macedo-
nian monarch—that military meteor, whose course,
though occasionally eccentric, was yet constantly
regulated by the preponderating attraction of his
original design; and whose plans, though marked by
temporary and local devastation, yet secured the
foundation of the durable and general prosperity of
future generations. The theme is too vast and too
sublime for the present effort, even had it never been
before attempted; but the genius of the learned author
of the “Commerce and Navigation of the An-
cients” has admirably developed the great and pro-
found views of Alexander, ignorantly described by
Pope as the reveries of insane ambition; and has
significantly alluded to the successful accomplish-
ment of his wonderful attempt, in that beautifully
appropriate legend placed under the engraving of the
head of his hero,
“Aperiam terras gentibus.”f
Or let us investigate the career of the equally ex-
traordinary conqueror of the present century. View
him overcoming every moral and physical difficulty
in the pursuit of his gigantic and fearful project of
universal empire: uniting distant and hostile nations
* The very reverend W. Vincent, D. D. late dean of West-
minster.
f Q. Curt. lib. ix. cap. 6.


68 NERvoUs SYSTEM OF ANIMALs.
in confederacies against their own liberties; changing
their long established dynasties, in order to set over
them kings of his own family. View him absorbed
in his heartless calculations on the advantages to be
obtained, for his personal aggrandizement, by the
endless sacrifice of human life; breaking into the
peaceful occupations of domestic scenes, and deso-
lating the happiness of myriads of his subjects, not to
ward off the dangers of hostile invasion, nor to lay
the foundation of the future good of his country, but
solely to gratify his own insatiable thirst of power;
and yet by the magic of his name rallying round his
standard, even to the last, the remnants of his former
reckless schemes of inordinate ambition.
In meditating on the astonishing scene presented
to the imagination by the description of a career so
strange, we might almost be in doubt whether these
effects were produced by a mere human mind; or
marked the presence of a superhuman intelligence,
permitted for a time to exercise a guilty world. But
whatever he were, he is gone; and his place will
know him no more. One moral reflection in the
mean time forces itself upon the mind; partly appli-
cable to himself, and partly to mankind at large.
Inebriated with prosperity, and regardless of the
Power which could alone uphold him, he fell from
his towering height; and was banished far from the
theatre of his former ambition, and almost, indeed,
from the haunts of men. But, haply, the prolongation
of his life in the silent retirement of that sequestered
island was mercifully intended to lead him to a calm
reflection on the real value of sublunary possessions:
for how very visionary and like a dream must all his
former life have frequently appeared to him, when
standing on the brow of some precipitous rock, the
natural boundary of his insulated prison, he mused on
the interminable expanse of the Atlantic; and com-
pared his present desolation with his former glory.
Or, if the terrors of Omnipotence failed even then to
reach his obdurate heart, his example at least re-


ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE. 69
mains a merciful beacon to others; who may learn
from his doom, that there is a Power which can say,
as easily to the tempestuous ocean of ambition, as to
the natural deep, “Hitherto shalt thou come, but no
further: and here shall thy proud waves be stayed.”
CHAPTER VI.
ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE To THE wants of MAN.
SECTION I.
The general Constitution of the Atmosphere.
In the foregoing part of this treatise the physical
condition of man has been considered under the view
of the general capabilities of his nature, rather than
of his actual state: but it is evident on a moment's
reflection that his actual state will be very different
at different periods of time, or in different parts of
the world at the same period: and this observation
applies no less to communities than to individuals.
How great the contrast, with reference to the case of
individuals, between the intellectual powers and at-
tainments of a Newton and a native of New Holland;
and in the case of communities, how great the con-
trast between any of the kingdoms of modern Europe,
and the rude tribes from whence they were originally
derived.
In proceeding then to illustrate the adaptation of
the external world to the physical condition of the
human species, we must view individuals or commu-
nities under all possible circumstances of existence,
and make the illustration of as general application as
the nature of the subject evidently demands.
And, in order to effect something like a systematic
arrangement of the immense mass of , materials
whence the following illustration is to be deduced, it


70 ADAPTATION of THE ATMOSPHERE
is proposed to investigate separately the four king-
doms or divisions of nature, the general characters
of which were given in the commencement of this
treatise; beginning with the atmospherical and end-
ing with the animal kingdom. -
If it were possible, with the bodily as with the men-
tal eye, to behold the constitution of the atmosphere
which surrounds our earth, we should view a com-
pound probably the most complex in nature: for into
this circumambient ocean of air, as it is called by
Lucretius,” are carried up whatever exhalations
arise not only from the earth itself, but from every
organized form of matter whether living or in a state
of decomposition that is found upon the earth's sur-
face; the dews of morning, the balms of evening, the
fragrance of every plant and flower; the breath and
characteristic odour of every animal; the vapour
invisibly arising from the surface of the whole ocean
and its tributary streams; and, lastly, those circum-
scribed and baneful effluvia, however generated,
which when confined to definite portions of the at-
mosphere produce those various forms of fever
which infest particular districts: or those more aw-
ful and mysterious miasmata, which, arising in some
distant region, and advancing by a slow but certain
march, carry terror and death to the inhabitants of
another hemisphere.
Such is the complex character of the atmosphere;
and, indeed, from this assemblage of vapours con-
tained in it, it has received its peculiar appellation;
being the receptacle, or magazine, as it were, ofter-
restrial exhalations.#
All these various exhalations however may be con-
sidered as foreign to the constitution of the air, being
neither constantly nor necessarily present anywhere;
all, with the exception of that aqueous vapour which
* “Semper enim quodcunque fluit de rebus; id omne
Aëris in magnum fertur mare.” Lib. v. 277, 8.
t"Atºwy rºafea.


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 71
is continually rising from the surface of the earth, as
well as of the ocean and every lake and river. But,
in addition to this aqueous vapour, the air is also
charged to a variable extent with light and heat and
electricity: of which the two first are so obviously
adapted to the wants of man as to demand imme-
diate attention. Electricity is probably of equal im-
portance in its relation to man; but the true charac-
ter of that relation has not yet been sufficiently
developed to call for a distinct consideration on the
present occasion.
SECTION II.
Light.
THE metaphorical expressions of all ages and na-
tions, with respect to light, sufficiently evince the
value in which that inestimable gift is held. In the
sacred Scriptures indeed, not only are temporal
blessings compared to light, and temporal evils to
darkness; but holy deeds are frequently described
under the character of the former; and unholy deeds
under the character of the latter: and, with respect
either to classical or oriental literature, a thousand
instances might easily be adduced illustrative of the
same metaphorical use of the terms in question.
When, after a dark and tempestuous night, the
mariner first perceives the dawn of returning day;
although that dawn discover to his view the evil
plight to which the storm has reduced his vessel, why
does he still hail day's harbinger as his greatest relief,
but because without the aid of light he could not
possibly extricate himself from the difficulties of his
situation? Or, when the child, awakened from its
sleep, finds itself alone in darkness, why is it over-
whelmed with terror, and why does it call out for
protection, but from the influence of those undefined
fears, which naturally occur to the mind under the
privation of light?


72 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
There is something so congenial to our nature in
light, something so repulsive in darkness, that, pro-
bably on this ground alone, the very aspect of inani-
mate things is instinctively either grateful or the
reverse, in consequence of our being reminded by
that aspect of the one or of the other: so that on this
principle, perhaps, particular colours throughout
every province of nature are more or less acceptable
in proportion as they approach nearest or recede
farthest from the character of light, whether reflected
immediately from the heavenly bodies, or from the
azure of the sky, or from the thousand brilliant hues
with which the setting or the rising sun illuminates
its attendant clouds.
In illustration of the principle just advanced, gold
and silver among metals might be opposed to lead
and iron; and, among flowers, the brilliancy of the
crocus, the lily, or the rose, to the lurid aspect of
henbane or belladonna. And though something of
a moral character may in these instances determine
the preference; yet there is nothing unreasonable in
supposing, that, as the instincts of the inferior animals
regulate their tastes and distates to natural objects;
so there may also be in the case of human beings
congruities, or the reverse, between the sense im-
pressed and the object impressing it. In fact, with
respect to that sense, the organ of which is the ear,
it is known that infants shrink back from deep sounds,
and express delight at acute sounds, long before any
intellectual or moral feeling can sway them; and,
correspondently with this assertion, the lullaby of
the nurse partakes, among all nations, of the same
essential character. It is a fact equally deducible
from observation, that particular flavours and odours
are maturally acceptable, or the reverse, to children.
And again, with reference to the sense of touch,
smooth surfaces almost universally give a pleasing
impression; which is not imparted i. rugged sur-
faces. Why then may it not be the same with respect


To THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 73
to the sense of sight, in the case either of colour or
of form?
The abundant supply of light from its natural
source the sun, and the ease with which it is pro-
ducible by artificial means during the absence of that
luminary, render us habitually less sensible of its real
value, than undoubtedly we should be, were we to
experience a long continued privation of it. And as
to the regularly periodical privation of it which we
experience in consequence of the alternation of night
with day, this is so far from being an evil, that it is
obviously beneficial; inasmuch as, in consequence of
this very absence, sleep is both directly and indi-
rectly conciliated: without which gift of Heaven,
all our faculties would soon be exhausted, and all our
happiness consequently extinguished. ... .
The beneficial influence of sleep on our whole
frame is too obvious in its effects to require any for-
mal demonstration: but it will be interesting to con-
sider its relation to the absence of light. It appears
then that, by a fundamental law of our nature, a
sense of uneasiness invariably follows a long con-
tinued exercise of our powers, either corporeal or
mental : and, unless this sense of uneasiness have
been produced by too inordinate exercise, it is soon
relieved by that state of the system which we call
sleep; during the continuance of which, provided it
be sound and of a perfectly healthy character, all the
voluntary muscles of the body become relaxed, and
the nervous system remains comparatively inactive;
the whole body acquiring by this temporary cessa-
tion of its energies a renovated accumulation of
those powers, which are necessary for the purposes
of active and intellectual life. -
In order to dispose us to yield to the sensation of
approaching sleep, the periodical succession of night
to day has been ordained by nature. For, with the
approach of darkness cease all the usual stimuli of
that sense, which is accommodated to the impulse of
light, and which calls our faculties into action more
G -


74 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
frequently than any other; nor is the intention of
nature less evident, because, either from avarice or
the dissipation of luxury, some individuals protract
the labours or the pleasures of the day beyond the
natural period assigned for those purposes; since
these are unnatural exceptions to the observance of
the general law. -
Although it would be difficult to prove directly that
there is any necessary connexion between darkness
and sleep, yet this connexion is rendered at least
highly probable by the effect usually produced on
the approach of darkness upon animals in general,
but more remarkably on birds; for, with the excep-
tion of those whose habits are nocturnal, all birds
betake themselves to sleep as soon as night ap-
proaches: and if darkness should anticipate night by
many hours, as happens when any considerable
eclipse of the sun takes place in the middle of the
day, we still find the birds of the field as well as our
domesticated fowls give the same indications of com-
posing themselves to sleep, as at the regular period
of sunset. If it should be said that this does not more
serve to prove a connexion between darkness and
sleep with reference to these animals, than to prove
the effect of a long continued association resulting
from their habit of going to roost at sunset; it may
be asked, why should darkness, unless from some in-
herent cause, lead them to compose themselves to
sleep at the hour of noon, instead of the usual hour
of evening; since, on the one hand, periodical states
of the animal system do not usually recur before the
termination of the habitual period; and, on the other
hand, the individuals cannot at so early an hour have
experienced such a degree of exhaustion as would of
itself invite to sleep
In stating that the voluntary action of the muscles
ceases during sound sleep, we ought not to omit the
remarkable fact that those muscles which are not
under the empire of the will continue their action
uninterruptedly through the deepest sleep. Of all


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 75
the muscles of involuntary motion, this observation
holds most remarkably with respect to the heart;
the continued action of which organ during sleep is
a phenomenon worthy of the deepest attention of a
F. mind. All other organs of the body
ave their periods either of absolute or comparative
rest; the senses are in a measure periodically locked.
up by sleep during one quarter at least, if not one
third of our whole existence ; the limbs of the most
athletic individual lose their power of motion after a
few hours of unremitted exertion; even the brain,
which during the hours of sleep and the interruption
of all the common functions of the body frequently
represents to the internal senses the most busy scenes
of active life—even the brain may be exhausted by
unusual fatigue, or other causes, and may thus in-
volve the general system in the stupor of apparent
death—but the heart, unless on such occasions as
the momentary interruption of a swoon, never rests:
so that, whether we look back to that period of our
existence, when, in our yet imperfect state, there
could scarcely be discovered the faint outline of those
members, which in after life constitute man's strength
and beauty, the presence of the heart may be recog-
nised by the impulse of its vibratory motion, though
its form is yet undefined, or at least indistinguishable;
or whether, on the other hand, we look forward to
the latest moments of protracted disease, or expiring
old age, the same organ is the last part of our frame
which continues to give immediate proof of vital
motion.
The privation of light is rarely, if ever, total; for
though the empire of time is divided in nearly equal
proportion between day and night, there are com-
paratively few nights in which there is not diffused
through the air a sufficient quantity of light for many
of the purposes of life. Nor, with respect to those
persons who either were born blind, or became blind
in early infancy, is the absence of light felt with any
degree of severity; for, in such instances, although


76 - ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
the individual may be made to understand that he
wants some faculty which those around him possess,
there cannot be however any consciousness of priva-
tion where there never had been actually any enjoy-
ment; or where there was no recollection of it, if it
had for a time existed. And even in the case of in-
dividuals who have been deprived of sight long sub-
sequently to birth, although the recollection of the
former enjoyment must more or less imbitter their
present state; yet so long as the offices of surround-
ing friends are the means of administering to their
comfort, more especially if those offices are fulfilled
with kindness, the mind soon becomes reconciled to
the privation: for it is a fact, repeatedly observed,
that blind persons under such circumstances are
usually cheerful. Nor ought we to forget the com-
pensation which nature affords to those who are de-
prived of sight, in the consequently quickened acti-
vity of some of the other senses.
flet us however suppose for a moment that, all the
faculties and recollections of man remaining unaltered,
and the general processes of nature continuing, if
possible, the same as they are now, the existence of
light were withdrawn from this earth: what would
then be the condition of mankind 7 How could those
occupations of life be pursued which are necessary
for the supply of our simplest wants? Who in that
case should yoke the ox to the plough, or sow the
seed, or reap the harvest? but indeed under such a
supposition there would soon be neither seed for the
ground, nor grain for food: for, if deprived of light,
the character of vegetation is completely altered;
and its results, as far as general utility is concerned,
destroyed. Or suppose, further, that these necessary
supplies of life were no longer required, on account
of some consequent alteration in our physical consti-
tution; or that they were procured for us by any
unknown means; yet, in all the higher enjoyments
of our nature, how cheerless, how utterly miserable


78 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
plant as excludes the admission of light beyond the
exterior leaves. And, again, if a branch of ivy or of
any spreading plant happen to penetrate during the
progress of its vegetation into a dark cellar, or any
similar subterraneous situation, it is observable, that,
with the total loss of colour, its growth advances
with great rapidity, but its proportions alter to such
a degree as often to mask its original form. And,
lastly, which in a practical point of view is of the
greatest importance, if a plant which has grown
without the influence of light be chemically ex-
amined, its juices, it might almost be said its whole
substance, would be found to consist of little else
than mere water; and, whatever odour it may have,
is characteristic, not of its original nature, but of its
unnatural mode of growth; becoming, in short, very
like that of a common fungus. The total result is,
that all the native beauties and uses of a vegetable
growing under these circumstances are lost: the eye
is neither delighted by any variety or brightness of
colour; nor is the sense of smell gratified by any
fragrance: the degeneracy of its fibre into a mere
pulp renders it unfit for any mechanical purpose;
and the resinous and other principles on which its
nutritive and medicinal virtues depend, cease to be
developed. In some instances, however, the bleach-
ing or etiolation of plants is useful in correcting the
acrid taste which belongs to them in their natural
state; as in the case of endive and of celery.
The effect of light upon vegetation has been se-
lected in the preceding paragraph as affording the
most powerful instance of the adaptation of this
natural agent to the physical condition of man. Its
effects upon individuals of the mineral and animal
kingdom are neither so easily to be traced, nor are
nearly so important in their consequences, at least in
a practical point of view; and therefore it is not
proposed to bring them forward in a more particular
manner. -
The observation of those modifications which light


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 79
*
undergoes when reflected from the surfaces of bodies
has given rise to one of those impressive arts which
are capable of contributing no less to the refinement
of society at large, than to the gratification of the
individuals who cultivate or admire them. For who
can look on the productions of such masters as
Guido, Raphael, or Michael Angelo, without imbib-
ing a portion of the spirit which animated those mas-
ters in the execution of their inimitable works? or,
if we quit the regions of imagination and of history,
and descend from the higher efforts of the art into
the retirement of domestic life, who can successfully
describe those emotions which are excited by the
portrait of a beloved object, a child or parent now
no more ; or by the representation of that home and
its surrounding scenery, in which the careless and
happy hours of childhood were passed ?.
The intrinsic source of the pleasure which we ex-
perience from the contemplation of a painting is
probably to be sought for in that principle of our
nature, of more extensive influence perhaps than is
generally supposed, which derives a gratification
from perceiving the resemblance of actual or pro-
bable truth; or even, and sometimes in a higher de-
gree, from the delineation of fictitious characters and
scenes: and hence the art of painting is easily made
the vehicle of the ludicrous and the florrible, no less
than of the sublime and the beautiful: and, hence
also, the painter may incur a considerable degree of
moral responsibility in the exercise of his art. But
this view of the subject, though fertile in reflections
of great moment, and practically too much neglect-
ed, does not belong to the purpose of the present
treatise.
SECTION III.
Heat.
From the consideration of the subject of light, the
mind passes by a natural transition to that of heat:


80 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
for these agents, though not necessarily or always,
are in reality very often associated together: and
they are each of them characterised by the want of
that property which almost seems essential to matter,
namely weight. In their relation to the physical ex-
istence of man and animal life in general, there is
this difference between them—the presence of light
is only indirectly necessary; the presence of heat is
directly necessary. Different degrees of heat indeed
are requisite for different species of animals: but if
the heat to which any individual animal be exposed
be much below that which is natural to the species,
and be continued for a sufficient length of time, all
the vital functions are eventually destroyed; or, as
in the case of the hibernation of particular species
of animals, are at least partially suspended.
The degree of heat adapted to the human frame is
so nicely adjusted to the bodily feelings of man, that,
if we take a range of fifty degrees of Fahrenheit's
thermometer as indicating the average extent of va-
riation to which the body is exposed in this climate,
it will be found that a difference of two or three de-
grees, above or below a given point, will generally
be sufficient to create an uncomfortable sensation.
The late Mr. Walker, whose experiments on the
artificial production of cold are well known to the
philosophical world, ascertained that the point of 62°
or 63° of Fahrenheit is that, which, upon an average
of many individuals, is in this climate the most con-
genial, as far as sensation is concerned, to the human
body. But it is a merciful provision of nature, con-
sidering the numerous vicissitudes of human life,
that man is capable of resisting very great and even
sudden alterations of temperature without any seri-
ous inconvenience. Thus an atmosphere so cold, as
to depress the mercury in Fahrenheit's thermometer
to the 52d degree below the freezing point of water,
has been borne under the protection of very mode-
rate clothing. And, on the other hand, an atmosphere
of a temperature as high as the 200dth degree of


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 81
Fahrenheit, which is within a few degrees of the
boiling point of water, was borne by the late Dr.
Fordyce, during ten minutes.* And it is highly
worthy of notice, as connected with the general in-
tention of this Treatise, that, during the same time,
a thermometer which had been fixed under his
tongue indicated only the 98th degree of Fahren-
heit:f so that the body remained very nearly of its
natural temperature, during its exposure to an at-
mosphere exceeding its own temperature by full 100
degrees.j.
his uniformity of animal temperature, under such
circumstances, is in a great measure owing to the
process of evaporation, which takes place from the
general surface of the body, and from the air-vessels
of the lungs: for if animals are confined in a cham-
ber, the atmosphere of which is so moist that no
evaporation can take place from the surface of their
bodies, it has been found that their temperature is as
capable of being steadily and uniformly raised, by
increasing the heat of the room in which they are
placed, as if they were inanimate matter.
The application of heat to the various purposes of
life has a very extensive range; and with reference
to the daily preparation of the more common forms
of our food, whether animal or vegetable, distin-
guishes the habits of man from those of every other
species. Without the power indeed of commanding
the application of heat in its various degrees, many
of the most important arts of civilized society would
fail. -
Without that power, how could clay be hardened
into the state of brick, of which material most of the
habitations in many large cities are constructed?
Without the aid of the same agent, how could quick-
lime, the base of every common cement, be produced
from limestone? without the application of the higher
* Phil. Trans. 1775. vol. lxv. p. 117. # Ibid. p. 118.
f For an account of similar experiments carried to a further
extent, see p. 484, &c. of the same volume of the Phil. Trans,


82 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
degrees of heat, metals could neither be reduced
from their ores, nor the reduced metals worked into
convenient forms. Neither, without the same aid,
could that most useful substance glass be produced;
a material, which, in comparison hardly known to
the ancients, has in modern times become almost
indispensably necessary to persons of the poorest
class, as a substance of daily use for various econo-
mical purposes. But if we consider the properties of
this valuable compound, with reference to the aid
derived from it in the investigations of science, there
are few substances of higher importance to the phi-
losopher. Among the most useful of those properties
are its impermeability to fluids, either in a liquid or
aeriform state; its ready permeability to light, to-
gether with its power of modifying the qualities of
that fiuid; and its resistance to almost all those che-
mical agents, which are capable of destroying the
texture of most other substances with which they
remain long in contact.
In considering the extensive utility of the thermo-
meter and barometer, in their common and most
convenient forms, it is evident that their practical
value almost entirely depends on the transparency
of glass, and on its impermeability to air: for if the
glass, of which they are made, were opaque, the
variations in the level of the quicksilver contained
within them would be imperceptible to the eye; and
could not be indirectly ascertained, unless by very
circuitous and difficult means: and, on the other
hand, if the glass were permeable to air, the varia-
tion in the level of the quicksilver, in the case of the
barometer at least, would necessarily be prevented.
The same properties of transparency and impermea-
bility to air very greatly enhance, if they do not
solely constitute the value of glass, in all those phi-
losophical experiments which are carried on under
what is called the exhausted receiver.
But the most important result of the transparency
of glass is the modification which light undergoes in


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 83
its passage through lenticular masses of that material.
When, for instance, in consequence of disease or
advancing age, the eye no longer retains the power
of discerning objects distinctly, how much of hourly
comfort, as well as of intellectual enjoyment, would
be lost, were we not able to supply the natural defect
by the artificial aid of glasses of the requisite form
and density. And, again, how many important facts
in the physiology of animals and vegetables, as also
in the constitution of inanimate bodies, would have
remained for ever undiscovered, but for the aid of
the microscope; the magnifying powers of which
depend on the transparency, and form, and the right
adjustment of those pieces of glass through which
the objects subjected to observation are viewed!
And, lastly, how shall we estimate the value of
those discoveries, to say nothing of the constantl
accumulating mass of observations connected º,
them, which the world owes to that wonderful in-
strument the telescope 7 By the aid of which not
only has the knowledge of our own sidereal system
been extended, in consequence of the discovery of
new planets belonging to it; but it seems to have
been rendered highly probable that those obscurely
defined luminous masses, which sir William Herschel
termed nebulae, observable within the limits of indi-
vidual constellations, are really the accumulated light
of innumerable stars seen through the medium of a
space hitherto immeasurable: and that the milky way
itself is an extended accumulation of similar nebulae;
the collected light of which, at some inconceivable
point of distance, may appear to the inhabitants of
still more distant spheres, as a mere speck. Dare
the mind attempt to penetrate beyond this general
statement, and to speculate upon the characters of
its detail? What if there be a resemblance, or even
an analogy, between the structure and inhabitants of
this earth and of the other planets of our system?
What if every fixed star which we either see with


84 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
the naked eye or by the aid of the telescope, or
whose existence we can conceive on probable
grounds by the mind's eye, be itself the centre of a
system consisting, like our own, of numerous subor-
dinate spheres, and every one of these inhabited by
responsible agents, like ourselves; to whose uses
both inorganic elements and animals and vegetables,
analogous if not similar to our own, may be subser-
vient? What if the moral history and state of the
inhabitants of those numberless spheres be like that
of man!—But the view, which the investigation of
this question seems capable of unfolding, is too awful
for the eye of reason; and, however its discussion
might magnify our conviction of the infinite power
and goodness of the Creator, is not to be approached
perhaps without culpable presumption.
Let us therefore return to considerations more ap-
propriate to the character of human knowledge: and,
having referred to the effects produced by heat on
various forms of matter, let us inquire what facilities
nature has placed within our reach for the purpose
of exciting and maintaining heat itself. The chemist
in his laboratory, surrounded by the numerous and
various agents which he is constantly employing, can
never have any difficulty in producing the vestal ele-
ment. By concentration of the sun's rays he may
inflame any combustible substance: by compression
of common air in a small cylinder of glass, or metal,
he may ignite a piece of fungus, or inflame a piece
of phosphorus, attached to the extremity of the piston
which is employed to compress the air. He may in-
stantaneously produce flame by pouring concentrated
nitric acid on oil of turpentine, or on certain saline
compounds; by the simple trituration of phosphorus,
or other chemical agents; by directing a small stream
of inflammable air on minute particles of platina
loosely aggregated in a state somewhat resembling
sponge; or, not to accumulate too many instances, he
may delight himself for the thousandth time by ig-


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 85
niting a fine wire of steel, in passing the electric
current along it by means of the Voltaic apparatus.*
There are few individuals however who have
commonly such magic instruments at hand: and,
even if they had, it is probable that they would want
both the leisure and inclination to preserve them in a
state fitted to produce at any moment the intended
effect; for, though each successive year has of late
given birth to some new form of apparatus calculated
to produce instantaneous light, we find ourselves
constantly recurring to the flint and steel, which our
forefathers of many generations have used; and
which will doubtless be the staple apparatus of our
latest posterity.
The more important part of the present inquiry
remains to be considered, the means namely of main-
taining heat, when once excited, to a sufficient extent
and degree of intensity for the various purposes of
* It will not perhaps be deemed impertinent, to relate an in-
stance of the sagacity of the late. Dr. Wollaston, in connexion
with the present subject. It happened to the author of this
Treatise, at a comparatively early period of his life, to deliver a
letter of introduction to Dr. Wollaston at a moment when that
philosopher was engaged in conducting an electric current, by
means of the Voltaic apparatus, through three portions of fine
steel wire, differing from each other in diameter. With that
vivacity of manner, which in him resulted rather from the simple
consciousness of the acquisition of truth, than from the ignoble
triumph of individual superiority, he asked which of those wires
would first become of a red heat; and being answered, at a hazard
rather than from any reasonable ground of conjecture, that a red
heat would perhaps first take place in the thickest of the three
—“I expect it will,” he said, “and that the finest wire will
never reach a red heat; for I conclude that, from its extreme
fineness, the heat excited in it will be dissipated by radiation so
rapidly, as to prevent the accumulation of a quantity sufficient for
its ignition.” It need hardly be added that the conjecture was
verified.
As an instance of the minute scale on which Dr. Wollaston
was in the habit of carrying on his philosophical investigations,
it may be mentioned that the preceding experiment was con-
ducted in a single cell of a single and moderately sized Woltaic
trough.
H


86 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
social and civilized life. To this important purpose,
among others, the products of the vegetable world,
both in a fossil and recent state, are destined; and in
examining the origin and general history of some of
these products, particularly with reference to com-
mon coal, we shall meet with an interesting example
of those provisions of nature which Dr. #. has
denominated prospective contrivances.
In the early periods of civilization, and while the
population of a country bears a small proportion to
the extent of soil occupied, the indigenous forests
easily supply an ample quantity of fuel: or, in the
absence of those larger species of the vegetable king-
dom which may be described under the term of tim-
ber, the humblest productions of the morass, though
not the most desirable, are, however a sufficient sub-
stitute. Thus the sphagnum palustre and other
mosses, by their successive growth and decay, form
the combustible substratum of those extensive and at
present uncultivated tracts in Ireland, which, till they
shall have happily been reclaimed by the industry of
a yet barbarous population, contribute by the turf and
peat which they afford, to the comfort of myriads of
individuals; who, were it not for this source of sup-
ply, would be, in their present state, in total want of
one of the principal necessaries of life.
In many populous districts of this island, the abo-
riginal forests, which formerly so amply supplied the
surrounding inhabitants, have long since been cleared
from the surface of the earth: and their site is now
occupied by cultivated lands and a condensed popu-
lation. The former source of fuel has consequently
in such parts long since failed: but the clearing of
the surface has in many places detected that invalu-
able mineral combustible, which, usually bearing in
itself indubitable marks of a vegetable origin, from
the traces of organization still apparent in almost
every part of its substance, was deposited ages before
it was wanted, as a future substitute for the fuel
which in the mean time has been derived from the
actually existing vegetable kingdom.


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 87
It is not intended here to enter into the general
consideration of those geological formations called
coal fields, which are the repositories of this useful
mineral : but there is one circumstance in their his-
tory so evidently calculated to facilitate the labour of
man in obtaining this substance, and to extend its
supply, and so remarkably though not exclusively
characteristic of those particular formations, that,
though not obvious to a general observer, it cannot
fail to arrest the attention of those to whom it is
pointed out. A coal field may be represented, in a
popular description, as consisting of a succession of
alternating strata of coal and sand-stone, &c.; which,
having been originally deposited in a basin-shaped
cavity, in such a manner as to be at the same time
parallel to the concave surface of the basin and to
each other, have been subsequently broken up by
some force that has thrown the planes of the rup-
tured masses into various directions. Now, had the
strata remained undisturbed, a very considerable
proportion of the coal which is now quarried would
most probably never have been obtained by human
industry: for, the strata dipping down from the cir-
cumference towards the centre of the basin, that
perpendicular depth, beyond which it is practically
impossible to work the coal, would soon have been
reached in the operation of mining. But, in conse-
quence of the rupture and consequent dislocation of
the strata, many of those portions which were origi-
nally deposited at such a depth beneath the surface
as would have rendered the working of them impos-
sible, have been thrown up to the very surface; and
thus have become available to the miner.
SECTION IV.
The general Uses of Water.
ONE of the earliest political punishments of ancient
Rome affords an indirect but very remarkable proof,


88 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
of the immediate importance of the elements of fire
and water* to human life: for this punishment con-
sisting, in part, in an interdiction from the use of wa-
ter, compelled the individual so punished to fly from
his native neighbourhood, in order to obtain that me-
cessary article of support elsewhere: and, hence,
banishment and interdiction from fire and water be-
came synonymous terms. There are few who have
not experienced the uneasy sensation occasioned by
even a temporary privation of this necessary: and
the death that ensues upon a continued privation of
it is, perhaps, of all modes of death the most dread-
ful. This we learn from the occasional accounts of
individuals who have escaped from shipwrecks, in
which their companions had perished amidst the
agonies of thirst. And it is said of those unhappy
victims of a barbarous punishment, in Persia, (who
being immured in masonry as to every part of their
body but the head, are left to perish in that state,)
that they terminate their last hours, perhaps days, in
incessant cries for water. -
The necessity of this element for our support may
be antecedently inferred, on philosophical principles,
from an examination of the physical composition of
any animal body; of which, in by far the greater
number of instances, more than three-fourths of the
whole weight are due to the presence of water. This
water of composition may be easily separated by the
application of a moderate degree of heat, or even by
spontaneous evaporation at a common temperature,
sk gy will hardly be required for applying the term
element to a substance, which though it has long been experi-
mentally ascertained to be a compound, will in a popular view
be always considered as a simple body; especially if it be remem-
bered that even among the ancients this term did not necessarily
imply that the substance so called was absolutely a simple or un-
compounded body. It was sufficient with them, that, in all the
known processes and phenomena of nature, the substance pre-
sented itself under the same essential form: but they were pre-
pared to allow that elementary bodies (grouxºis) might possibly
be resolved into absolutely simple principles (éexaſ.)


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 89
without any further decomposition of the body; the
muscles and skin consequently shrinking to such an
extent, as to give the whole frame the appearance of
a skeleton, enveloped, as it were, in parchment.
Such a result is occasionally observable in human
bodies which have been deposited in dry cemeteries;
and is by no means uncommon in the case of small
animals, as rats, for instance, which having been acci-
dentally wedged in between a wall and a wainscot,
are subsequently found in the state above described.
An experiment of a very simple character in itself,
and very easily made, will serve to ascertain, not
only the proportional quantity of water of composi-
tion contained in some forms of animal matter, but
also the properties communicated by the presence of
that element thus combined. Every one has noticed
the opaline or milky appearance and the remarkable
elasticity of cartilage, or gristle, as it is more com-
monly called: which characters depend on the wa-
ter contained in it; for if a piece of gristle, the weight
of which has been previously ascertained, be exposed
to the air of a warm room, it will at the end of a few
hours have lost a portion of its weight; and will have
become nearly transparent, and entirely inelastic:
and if, in this state, it be immersed in water, it will
gradually recover its original weight, and also its
elasticity and opaline appearance. If, instead of
gristle, a piece of boiled white of egg be employed,
the same results will be observable; for, together
with loss of weight and elasticity, it will become
brittle, and nearly as transparent as pure amber:
and on the other hand, by subsequent immersion in
water, its original properties will be soon restored.
By experiments nearly as simple as those above men-
tioned it may be demonstrated, that all the liquid and
solid parts of an animal, with some few exceptions,
contain or consist of more than three-fourths of their
weight of water: the importance of which element
in the mere composition of our body is hence direct-
ly evident.
H 2


90 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
But if we would have a familiar illustration of its
importance in the daily and hourly occurrences of
life, let us in imagination accompany an individual
of moderate rank and condition in society, from the
time of his rising in the morning till the hour of sleep
at night, in order to observe the utility of water in
administering either directly or indirectly to his va-
rious wants and habits. How great is the comfort,
to say nothing of the salubrity of the practice, which
results to him from the application of water to the
surface of the body, by means either of the bath or
any simpler process! and, again, the change of the
linen in which he is partiarly clothed is rendered
equally comfortable and salutary, in consequence of
its having been previously submitted to the process
of washing. The infusion of coffee or of tea, which
is probably an essential part of his earliest meal,
could not have been prepared without water: neither
could the flour of which his bread consists, have been
kneaded; nor the food of his subsequent meal, the
broths and most of the vegetables at least, have been
rendered digestible, without the aid of the same fluid;
and with respect to his common beverage, whether
milk, or any form of fermented liquor, water still
constitutes the main bulk of that beverage.
So far the use of water is directly and immediately
necessary to his comfort and subsistence: but its in-
direct and remote necessity is equally observable in
all that surrounds him. There is scarcely an article
of his apparel, in some part of the preparation of
which water has not been necessarily employed; in
the tanning of the leather of his shoes; in the dress-
ing of the flax of which his linen is made ; in the
dyeing of the wool of his coat, or of the materials of
his hat. Without water the china or earthen cups,
out of which he drinks, could not have been turned
on the lathe; nor the bricks, of which his house is
constructed, nor the mortar by which they are
cemented, have been formed. The ink with which
he writes, and the paper which receives it, could not


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 91
have been made without the use of water. The knife
with which he divides his solid food, and the spoon
with which he conveys it when in a liquid form to
his mouth, could not have been, or at least have not
probably been formed, without the application of
water during some part of the process of making
them.
By water the medical principles of various vege-
table and mineral substances are extracted, and ren-
dered potable; which could not be introduced into
the animal system in a solid state: and this element
itself becomes occasionally a most powerful medi-
cinal instrument by its external application, in every
one of its forms; whether as a liquid, under the name
of the cold or warm bath; or in the form of ice, in
restraining internal inflammation and hemorrhage;
or in the state of steam, as in the application of the
vapour bath.
SECTION W.
Baths.
THE custom of bathing, whether in a medium of a
high or of a low temperature, appears to be in a
great measure derived from the gratification of a
natural feeling: for we find it prevalent in every
country and in every stage of society, not only with
reference to its medicinal effects, but as a mere lux-
ury. Thus at every season of the year, when the
sky is serene at least, the inhabitants of hot climates
plunge into their native streams for the sake of the
refreshment imparted to the surface of their bodies;
and the same refreshment is equally sought by the
natives of colder climates during the heat of their
short summer: in each of which instances the plea-
surable sensation is the principal motive for the prac-
tice. But on some occasions a more permanent good
is sought; and the hope of immediate pleasure is so
far from being the motive, that a sensation very nearly
allied to pain, and in many instances less tolerable


92 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
than pain itself, is encountered in the shock of the
cold bath, with a view to the preservation or restora-
tion of health. It may be said perhaps that the glow of
warmth which usually succeeds this shock is in itself
a pleasure; as indeed it is: but it may be presumed
that very few individuals experience any pleasure
from the shock itself, or would consent to encounter
it but for its pleasurable and beneficial consequences.
For the enjoyment of the cold bath nature affords
the immediate resource of springs and rivers, in al-
most every part of the world; but the enjoyment of
the warm bath is in general not easily attainable;
warm springs being comparatively of rare occur-
rence: the pleasure of the warm bath however is so
congenial to man's feelings, that it is sought for by
savages as well as by the inhabitants of the most
luxurious cities; and is as acceptable in tropical as in
cold climates.
It is at all times interesting to contemplate the ex-
pedients which human ingenuity discovers for the
accomplishment of its purposes: but such a contem-
plation is more particularly interesting when it de-
velopes the revival of a principle, the knowledge of
which had been buried during many centuries of
intervening ignorance; and thus justifies the reflec-
tion of moral wisdom:
“Multa renascentur, quae jam cecidere.”
“The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be;
and that which is done is that which shall be done:
and there is no new thing under the sun.”
In a most amusing and instructive account of
Pompeii, which forms one of the volumes published
under the name of the Library of Entertaining
Knowledge, is a dissertation on the Baths of the An-
cients; which will amply repay, by the information
it conveys, the time occupied in its perusal. In that
dissertation is contained a description of the remains
of some public baths, discovered in the excavations
of Pompeii: and with reference to the disposition of


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 93
the furnace of the baths a fact is stated, which is
peculiarly applicable to our present purpose.
It is evident that, in consequence of the enormous
quantity of water which was daily heated in their
public baths, the attention of the ancients must ne-
cessarily have been directed to the most economical
mode of applying the fuel by which the heat of the
furnace was maintained: and the following extract
from the above mentioned account of Pompeii will
show that, even in a small town of ancient Italy, an
economical principle was well understood and ap-
plied eighteen centuries since, which has only been
of late revived in modern science. It is stated in
that account, (p. 152,) that “close to the furnace, at
the distance of four inches, a round vacant space
still remains, in which was placed the copper for
boiling water (caldarium ;) near which, with the
same interval between them, was placed the copper
for warm water (tepidarium ;) and at the distance
of two feet from this was the receptacle for cold wa-
ter (frigidarium.) A constant communication was
maintained between these vessels; so that as fast as
hot water was drawn off from the caldarium, the
void was supplied from the tepidarium, which,
being already considerably heated, did but slightly
reduce the temperature of the hotter boiler. The
tepidarium in its turn was supplied from a gene-
ral reservoir: so that the heat which was not
taken up by the first boiler passed on to the second ;
and, instead of being wasted, did its office in pre-
paring the contents of the second for the higher tem-
perature which it was to obtain in the first. It is
but lately that this principle has been introduced
into modern furnaces; but its use in reducing the
consumption of fuel is well known.”
In the same account of Pompeii is afforded a
striking instance, with reference to the vapour bath,
not only of the similarity of the means employed for
producing a similar effect, by individuals between
whom no communication can be traced or even sup-


94 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
posed; but also a similarity of custom, with refer-
ence to the enjoyment of social intercourse, between
communities not less widely separated from each
other by time and space, than by degree of civiliza-
tion; between the luxurious inhabitants of imperial
Rome eighteen centuries ago, and the savage tribes
of north-western America at the present day. The
author of the account of Pompeii states (p. 187—
190) on the authority of Tooke's Russia, “that the
Russian baths, as used by the common people, bear
a close resemblance to the vapour bath (laconicum)
of the Romans. They usually consist of wooden
houses, situated, if possible, by the side of a running
stream. In the bath-room is a large vaulted oven,
which, when heated, makes the paving stones lying
upon it red hot; and adjoining to the oven is a kettle
fixed in masonry for the purpose of holding boiling
water. In those parts of the country where wood is
scarce, the baths sometimes consist of wretched ca-
verns, commonly dug in the earth close to the bank
of some river. The heat in the bath-room is usually
from 104° to 122° of Fahrenheit; and may be much
increased by throwing water on the glowing hot
stones in the chamber of the oven. The Russian
baths therefore are vapour-baths; and it appears
that even the savage tribes of America are not
wholly unacquainted with the use of the vapour-
bath, Lewis and Clarke, in their voyage up the Mis-
souri, have described one of these in the following
terms: “We observed a vapour-bath, consisting of
a hollow square of six or eight feet deep, formed in
the river bank by damming up with mud the other
three sides, and covering the whole completely, ex-
cept an aperture about two feet, wide at the top.
The bathers descend by this hole, taking with them
a number of heated stones, and jugs of water; and,
after being seated round the room, throw the water
on the stones till the steam becomes of a tempera-
ture sufficiently high for their purposes.”
* Sauer, in his account of Billings's expedition, describes the
same kind of bath as used in north-western America (p. 175.)


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 95
It appears then, from the foregoing statement,
that the peasants of Russia, and the savages of North
America, are in the habit of employing the same
means for converting water into vapour, which were
employed by the Romans at the most luxurious pe-
riod in their history: and to the peasants of Russia
and the savages of North America, may be added
the natives of New Zealand and other islands of the
Pacific ocean; merely with this qualification, that
they employ the steam, so raised, not for the purpose
of a vapour-bath, but of dressing their food.
It is worthy of notice, as illustrative of the social
feeling inherent in human nature, that, equally among
the uncivilized natives of America as among the
luxurious inhabitants of ancient Italy, “it is very
uncommon for an individual to bathe alone; he is
generally accompanied by one, or sometimes several,
of his acquaintance: bathing indeed is so essentially
a social amusement, that to decline going in to bathe,
when invited by a friend, is one of the highest indig-
nities that can be offered to him” (p. 190.)
SECTION VI.
The Fluidity of Water. º
FAMILIARIZED as we are to the consequences re-
sulting from that property of water, whereby its
particles move so easily among themselves as to
yield to the least impulse, provided there be space for
yielding, we rarely perhaps meditate on its import-
ance: and yet it is entirely owing to this property
that a free communication is capable of being main-
tained between distant parts of the world by means
of the ocean at large, and between different parts of
the same country by means of navigable rivers; or
by those more than rivals of navigable rivers, artifi-
cial canals.”
* It has been stated, on credible authority, that an agent of a
great proprietor of canals being incidently asked, during a legal
examination, for what purpose he conceived rivers had been


96 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
Rarely also, perhaps, do we meditate on the equally
important fact, that, throughout the greater part of
the world this element usually exists in a liquid state:
and important indeed is that fact; for, of the three
states under which it is capable of existing, namely
of ice, water, and vapour, if its predominant state
had been that of ice or of vapour, philosophers might
º have conjectured, but the world could never
ave seen realized, the mighty results of commerce
as depending on the art of navigation.
From the same physical character of water, above
described, namely, its fluidity, manifesting itself ac-
tively instead of passively, are daily produced results
of equal importance to society, and equally surprising
in themselves. Who indeed can adequately describe
the advantages derived from water in aiding the
powers of mechanism, from the half-decayed and
moss-grown wheel that scarcely sets in motion the
grinding-stone of the village mill, to the astonishing
momentum of the steam engine which kneads a hun-
dred tons of heated iron with as much ease as the
hands of the potter knead a lump of clay !
And here, since it is of the utmost importance to
mankind that this element should usually exist in a
liquid state, let us pause awhile to investigate the
means employed by nature to prevent its rapid con-
version either into vapour or into ice. For although
its partial existence in both those states is perhaps
eventually as necessary to the general good of the
world as its more common state of water, yet, if its
sudden or rapid conversion into either were not pre-
vented, great temporary evil would necessarily ensue
from our privation of it as a liquid.
It has been already mentioned that the atmosphere
constantly, holds in solution or suspension a great
body of water, in a state of minute division: but the
quantity that can be carried up into the atmosphere
by the process of evaporation is limited in two ways;
: answered, “that, no doubt, they were intended to feed
canals.”


98 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
points, namely, that the average temperature of lakes
and rivers is during the heat of summer more or less
above the 40th degree of Fahrenheit's scale; that
water itself at about the 40th degree is of its
greatest density; and that under all common cir-
cumstances it freezes, or becomes solid, at the 32d
degree. If we suppose then the temperature of a
pool or lake to equal at any given moment the 50th
degree of Fahrenheit; and a gradual reduction of
its temperature to take place from that moment by
the effect of a constantly diminishing temperature of
the air; under such circumstances the following phe-
nomena would occur. The particles of the water at
the surface becoming more condensed, that is heavier,
as they became cooler, would sink towards the bot-
tom, and be replaced by the hitherto subjacent par-
ticles; which in their turn, undergoing a similar de-
crease in their temperature and condensation, would
consequently subside towards the bottom; till at
length the whole mass of water had arrived at the
temperature of about 40°. From this point any pro-
gressive decrease of temperature would have an ex-
pansive effect upon the particles of water near the
surface; which, being thus rendered relatively lighter
than the particles of the subjacent mass, would not
subside; but, remaining on the surface, would con-
tinue to be expanded and made still lighter till they
had reached the temperature of 32°; at which de-
#. under ordinary circumstances, they would
reeze. But the coat of ice thus formed would be,
in some measure, a barrier to the effect of the colder
atmosphere upon the bulk of the water beneath;
which consequently would remain for a compara-
tively longer time in a liquid state; and would be
easily procured for general purposes, by making par-
tial openings through the frozen surface. Now if
the density of water continued to increase in a regu-
lar º to the moment of congelation, it
would necessarily happen, from the sinking of the
particles gradually thus condensed, that at some


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 99
given moment the temperature of the whole mass,
still in a liquid state, would have arrived at the freez-
ing point; and consequently the whole mass would
have been frozen, or become solid, at the same mo-
ment. The possibility of such a simultaneous con-
gelation is not merely a philosophical deduction, it
sometimes actually occurs. Thus, under certain cir-
cumstances, particularly if kept entirely free from
agitation, water, still retaining its liquid form, may
be cooled down to a point several degrees below that
of congelation; when, upon a slight agitation, the
whole mass is converted at once into the state of ice.
SECTION VII.
The natural Sources of Water.
For the supply of a substance of such immediate
necessity to the very existence of man, and of such
extensive utility in promoting his comforts, nature
has provided the amplest means; all however ulti-
mately derived from that mass of water which has
been carried up into the atmosphere by evaporation
from the sea: so that if that evaporation were to fail,
all forms of animal and vegetable matter, with the
exception of those which belong to the ocean itself,
would soon perish; for under such circumstances the
earth would be deprived of those seasonable showers,
without which its vegetable productions could not be
sustained; and every spring would soon fail, and
every river be dried up : for rivers are in most in-
stances formed by the progressive accumulation of
various torrents; and these are produced by that por-
tion of rain which, having fallen upon the ridges and
inclined surfaces of hills and mountains, descends
more rapidly than the soil can absorb it: and springs
result, in a manner that will be hereafter mentioned,


100 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
from the accumulation of that portion of the rain,
which sinks beneath the surface on which it has
fallen. But it is evident that if the vegetable world
were to perish, the animal world could not long
Survive.
Nor are the laws by which the moisture, contained
in the atmosphere, is precipitated from it in dews or
rain, among the least admirable instances of the pro-
vision made by nature for a constant supply of the
wants of man.
The mechanism, if the term be allowable, by
which the formation of clouds and the occasional
descent of rain are regulated, resides in the variable-
ness of the state of the heat and electricity of the
atmosphere: in consequence of which a given mass
of air is incapable of retaining, in solution or suspen-
sion, the same quantity of moisture which it did be-
fore; and hence that moisture is precipitated in the
form of dews and fogs; or, being previously con-
densed into accumulated masses of clouds, is dis-
charged from those clouds in the form of rain.
It almost seems puerile to illustrate the adaptation
of the present laws and order of nature to the wants
of man, by the supposition of the consequences that
would ensue from a failure of those laws; and yet, as
in actual life we often feel not the value of the good
which we possess, till admonished by the prospect of
its loss; so, with reference to the constitution of
nature, we may more forcibly be impressed with the
conviction of its general harmony and subserviency
to our wants, by the supposition of its being different
from what it is, than by the direct contemplation of
its actual state. In supposing then that means had
not been provided for the regular discharge of por-
tions of that mass of water which has been carried
up into the atmosphere by the process of evapora-
tion, the existence of that mass would have been of
little avail to man: for mere contact of an atmo-
sphere, however moist, could not promote vegetation


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 101
to any useful extent;" and the formation of springs
and rivers would be as effectually prevented by rain
ceasing to fall from the atmosphere, as if the material
of the rain itself did not exist in it.
Of the modes in which nature disposes of the rain
that has fallen on the earth, and of the formation of
natural springs and rivers, more particular notice
will be taken hereafter: but it may be observed by
the way, that, although there is scarcely any sub-
stance which water is not capable of dissolving to a
certain extent, and consequently no natural form of
water is pure, yet in almost every instance the natu-
ral forms of water are not only innocuous, but
salutary.
SECTION VIII.
The Air of the Atmosphere, as connected with
Respiration.
If we suppose the atmosphere deprived of heat,
and light, and moisture, and of all those other hetero-
geneous particles which are either naturally or acci-
dentally contained in it; there still remains the me-
dium which is the receptacle or vehicle of those
various substances: and this medium is indeed that,
which in common apprehension is understood to be
the atmosphere itself.
Of the vital importance of atmospherical air no
formal proof can be required; for every one capable
of the least reflection must know that its presence is
almost constantly necessary to the existence of man,
from the moment of his birth to that of his death. Of
all other external aids we may be deprived for a
comparatively long time without danger, or even
* Niebuhr asserts, what is confirmed by other travellers, that
many tracts in Egypt and Palestine, formerly well cultivated
and fertile, are at present mere deserts for want of irrigation.
(Descript. de l'Arabie, p. 241.)
I 2


102 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
without much inconvenience; of light and heat for
instance, and of food and sleep; but we cannot be
deprived of the air which we breathe even for a very
few minutes, without dreadful distress; or, if for
more than a very few minutes, without the extinction
of life.
This vital importance of the air depends, princi-
pally, on its capability of assisting to withdraw from
the body, chiefly through the agency of the lungs,
portions of that peculiar principle called carbon; the
permanent retention of which would be incompatible
with the continuance of life. And the union of this
principle with one of the constituent parts of atmo-
spherical air is probably effected in the lungs during
the process of respiration; the compound passing off
in the act of expiration, in the state of an aeriform
fluid, called carbonic acid gas. .
But, in order to give a clear idea of the nature of
the process of respiration, it will be necessary to
explain more particularly not only the constitution
of that portion of the atmosphere which supports this
process, but some of its chemical relations to other
substances. Atmospherical air then, considering it
in its adaptation to the process of respiration, consists
of a mixture or combination of two aeriform fluids,
which are very different from each other in charac-
ter, but intimately blended together in the proportion
of four to one. Of these two fluids, that which is in
the smaller proportion is not only capable of support-
ing life, when respired or breathed alone; but is
capable of supporting it for a much longer period
than an equal volume of atmospherical air would
have supported it: and if, instead of being employed
for the process of respiration, it be made the medium
of supporting combustion, the consequent phenomena
are still more remarkable; for the combustible body
not only burns for a longer time than it would have
done in the same quantity of atmospherical air, but
it burns with an intensity much more vivid; the light
of the flame being in many instances too powerful to


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 103
be easily borne by the eye. On the other hand, that
constituent part of atmospherical air, which is in the
greater proportion, not only will not support either
life or flame, even for a short time, but extinguishes
both, almost in an instant.
By numerous experiments, which it is at present
unnecessary to describe, it has been ascertained, that
many of the metals are capable of attracting and
combining with this respirable part of the air: during
which process the metallic body assumes an earthy
character, and becomes increased in weight; while
the weight of the air, in which the experiment has
been conducted, becomes diminished exactly to the
amount in which that of the metal has been increased:
and, at the same time, the residuary portion of the
air which has been employed in the experiment
equals only about four fifths of the original volume;
and is now incapable of supporting either life or
flame. But, by processes well known to chemists,
the metallic substance may be made to yield a quan-
tity of air equalling that which has been lost during
the experiment, the metal at the same time returning
to its original state and weight; while the air, thus
separated, if added to the residual portion, not only
restores the volume and weight of the original quan-
tity; but also its power of supporting life and flame.
If, instead of a metal, certain inflammable sub-
stances be employed, similar changes are effected
on the air; and the inflammable substance, together
with an increase of weight and other alterations,
acquires acid properties; and hence that respirable
portion of the air has, from a Greek derivation, been
called oxygen; as being the effective cause of the
acidification of those inflammable bodies. It has
moreover been ascertained that, during combustion,
a piece of pure charcoal weighing twenty-eight
grains combines with as much oxygen gas as would
weigh seventy-two grains: and, as the volume of the
gas employed remains the same at the end of the
experiment that it was at the beginning, provided it


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 95
It appears then, from the foregoing statement,
that the peasants of Russia, and the savages of North
America, are in the habit of employing the same
means for converting water into vapour, which were
employed by the Romans at the most luxurious pe-
riod in their history: and to the peasants of Russia
and the savages of North America, may be added
the natives of New Zealand and other islands of the
Pacific ocean; merely with this qualification, that
they employ the steam, so raised, not for the purpose
of a vapour-bath, but of dressing their food.
It is worthy of notice, as illustrative of the social
feeling inherent in human nature, that, equally among
the uncivilized natives of America as among the
luxurious inhabitants of ancient Italy, “it is very
uncommon for an individual to bathe alone; he is
generally accompanied by one, or sometimes several,
of his acquaintance: bathing indeed is so essentially
a social amusement, that to decline going in to bathe,
when invited by a friend, is one of the highest indig-
nities that can be offered to him” (p. 190.)
SECTION VI.
The Fluidity of Water.
FAMILIARIZED as we are to the consequences re-
sulting from that property of water, whereby its
particles move so easily among themselves as to
yield to the least impulse, provided there be space for
yielding, we rarely perhaps meditate on its import-
ance: and yet it is entirely owing to this property
that a free communication is capable of being main-
tained between distant parts of the world by means
of the ocean at large, and between different parts of
the same country by means of navigable rivers; or
by those more than rivals of navigable rivers, artifi-.
cial canals.”
* It has been stated, on credible authority, that an agent of a
great proprietor of canals being incidently asked, during a legal
examination, for what purpose he conceived rivers had been


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 99
given moment the temperature of the whole mass,
still in a liquid state, would have arrived at the freez-
ing point; and consequently the whole mass would
have been frozen, or become solid, at the same mo-
ment. The possibility of such a simultaneous con-
gelation is not merely a philosophical deduction, it
sometimes actually occurs. Thus, under certain cir-
cumstances, particularly if kept entirely free from
agitation, water, still retaining its liquid form, may
be cooled down to a point several degrees below that
of congelation; when, upon a slight agitation, the
whole mass is converted at once into the state of ice.
SECTION VII.
The natural Sources of Water.
For the supply of a substance of such immediate
necessity to the very existence of man, and of such
extensive utility in promoting his comforts, nature
has provided the amplest means; all however ulti-
mately derived from that mass of water which has
been carried up into the atmosphere by evaporation
from the sea: so that if that evaporation were to fail,
all forms of animal and vegetable matter, with the
exception of those which belong to the ocean itself,
would soon perish; for under such circumstances the
earth would be deprived of those seasonable showers,
without which its vegetable productions could not be
sustained; and every spring would soon fail, and
every river be dried up: for rivers are in most in-
stances formed by the progressive accumulation of
various torrents; and these are produced by that por-
tion of rain which, having fallen upon the ridges and
inclined surfaces of hills and mountains, descends
more rapidly than the soil can absorb it: and springs
result, in a manner that will be hereafter mentioned,


100 AdAPTAtion OF THE ATMOSPHERE
from the accumulation of that portion of the rain.
which sinks beneath the surface on which it has
fallen. But it is evident that if the vegetable world
were to perish, the animal world could not long
survive.
Nor are the laws by which the moisture, contained
in the atmosphere, is precipitated from it in dews or
rain, among the least admirable instances of the pro-
vision made by nature for a constant supply of the
wants of man.
The mechanism, if the term be allowable, by
which the formation of clouds and the occasional
descent of rain are regulated, resides in the variable-
ness of the state of the heat and electricity of the
atmosphere: in consequence of which a given mass
of air is incapable of retaining, in solution or suspen-
sion, the same quantity of moisture which it did be-
fore; and hence that moisture is precipitated in the
form of dews and fogs; or, being previously con-
densed into accumulated masses of clouds, is dis-
charged from those clouds in the form of rain.
It almost seems puerile to illustrate the adaptation
of the present laws and order of nature to the wants
of man, by the supposition of the consequences that
would ensue from a failure of those laws; and yet, as
in actual life we often feel not the value of the good
which we possess, till admonished by the prospect of
its loss; so, with reference to the constitution of
nature, we may more forcibly be impressed with the
conviction of its general harmony and subserviency
to our wants, by the supposition of its being different
from what it is, than by the direct contemplation of
its actual state. In supposing then that means had
not been provided for the regular discharge of por-
tions of that mass of water which has been carried
up into the atmosphere by the process of evapora-
tion, the existence of that mass would have been of
little avail to man: for mere contact of an atmo-
sphere, however moist, could not promote vegetation


To THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 101
to any useful extent;* and the formation of springs
and rivers would be as effectually prevented by rain
ceasing to fall from the atmosphere, as if the material
of the rain itself did not exist in it.
Of the modes in which nature disposes of the rain
that has fallen on the earth, and of the formation of
natural springs and rivers, more particular notice
will be taken hereafter: but it may be observed by
the way, that, although there is scarcely any sub-
stance which water is not capable of dissolving to a
certain extent, and consequently no natural form of
water is pure, yet in almost every instance the natu-
ral forms of water are not only innocuous, but
salutary.
SECTION VIII.
The Air of the Atmosphere, as connected with
Respiration.
If we suppose the atmosphere deprived of heat,
and light, and moisture, and of all those other hetero-
geneous particles which are either naturally or acci-
dentally contained in it; there still remains the me-
dium which is the receptacle or vehicle of those
various substances: and this medium is indeed that,
which in common apprehension is understood to be
the atmosphere itself.
Of the vital importance of atmospherical air no
formal proof can be required; for every one capable
of the least reflection must know that its presence is
almost constantly necessary to the existence of man,
from the moment of his birth to that of his death. Of
all other external aids we may be deprived for a
comparatively long time without danger, or even
* Niebuhr asserts, what is confirmed by other travellers, that
many tracts in Egypt and Palestine, formerly well cultivated
and fertile, are at present mere deserts for want of irrigation.
(Descript. de l'Arabie, p. 241.) 2
I


102 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
without much inconvenience; of light and heat for
instance, and of food and sleep; but we cannot be
deprived of the air which we breathe even for a very
few minutes, without dreadful distress; or, if for
more than a very few minutes, without the extinction
of life.
This vital importance of the air depends, princi-
pally, on its capability of assisting to withdraw from
the body, chiefly through the agency of the lungs,
portions of that peculiar principle called carbon; the
permanent retention of which would be incompatible
with the continuance of life. And the union of this
principle with one of the constituent parts of atmo-
spherical air is probably effected in the lungs during
the process of respiration; the compound passing off
in the act of expiration, in the state of an aeriform
fluid, called carbonic acid gas. .
But, in order to give a clear idea of the nature of
the process of respiration, it will be necessary to
explain more particularly not only the constitution
of that portion of the atmosphere which supports this
process, but some of its chemical relations to other
substances. Atmospherical air then, considering it
in its adaptation to the process of respiration, consists
of a mixture or combination of two aeriform fluids,
which are very different from each other in charac-
ter, but intimately blended together in the proportion
of four to one. Of these two fluids, that which is in
the smaller proportion is not only capable of support-
ing life, when respired or breathed alone; but is
capable of supporting it for a much longer period
than an equal volume of atmospherical air would
have supported it: and if, instead of being employed
for the process of respiration, it be made the medium
of supporting combustion, the consequent phenomena
are still more remarkable; for the combustible body
not only burns for a longer time than it would have
done in the same quantity of atmospherical air, but
it burns with an intensity much more vivid; the º:
ful to
of the flame being in many instances too power


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 103
be easily borne by the eye. On the other hand, that
constituent part of atmospherical air, which is in the
greater proportion, not only will not support either
life or flame, even for a short time, but extinguishes
both, almost in an instant.
By numerous experiments, which it is at present
unnecessary to describe, it has been ascertained, that
many of the metals are capable of attracting and
combining with this respirable part of the air: during
which process the metallic body assumes an earthy
character, and becomes increased in weight; while
the weight of the air, in which the experiment has
been conducted, becomes diminished exactly to the
amount in which that of the metal has been increased:
and, at the same time, the residuary portion of the
air which has been employed in the experiment
equals only about four fifths of the original volume;
and is now incapable of supporting either life or
flame. But, by processes well known to chemists,
the metallic substance may be made to yield a quan-
tity of air equalling that which has been lost during
the experiment, the metal at the same time returning
to its original state and weight; while the air, thus
separated, if added to the residual portion, not only
restores the volume and weight of the original quan-
tity; but also its power of supporting life and flame.
If, instead of a metal, certain inflammable sub-
stances be employed, similar changes are effected
on the air; and the inflammable substance, together
with an increase of weight and other alterations,
acquires acid properties; and hence that respirable
portion of the air has, from a Greek derivation, been
called oxygen; as being the effective cause of the
acidification of those inflammable bodies. It has
moreover been ascertained that, during combustion,
a piece of pure charcoal weighing twenty-eight
grains combines with as much oxygen gas as would
weigh seventy-two grains: and, as the volume of the
gas employed remains the same at the end of the
experiment that it was at the beginning, provided it


104 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
be brought to the same degree of temperature and
atmospherical pressure, it appears that the carbon is
as it were held in solution by the gas: and as this
chemical compound of carbon and oxygen possesses
acid properties, it is called carbonic acid gas.
A volume of this gas, then, which weighs one hun-
dred grains, consists of twenty-eight grains of carbon
chemically combined with seventy-two grains of
oxygen: and it has certain properties, by which,
without the labour of actual analysis, it may be re-
cognised from any other gas; among the more im-
portant of which, for our present purpose at least, is
the readiness with which it communicates a wheyish
appearance to lime-water, when made to pass through
that liquid. Making use of this character as a test,
any individual may easily satisfy himself that during
the process of respiration a quantity of carbonic acid
gas passes from his lungs: for if, after having inhaled
a portion of atmospherical air uncontaminated with
any mixture of it, he breathe slowly through a nar-
row tube, the further extremity of which is immersed
beneath the surface of a portion of lime-water, he
will observe that as the bubbles of air rise through
the lime-water, that liquid becomes opaque; and the
opacity thus communicated to the water can be
shown to be the result of a compound formed by the
union of the carbonic acid, which has evidently been
given out from the lungs, with the lime previously
held in solution in the lime-water.
Let it now be kept in mind that a hundred cubic
inches of carbonic acid gas, under ordinary circum-
stances, weigh a little more than forty-six grains;
and that a quantity of the same gas weighing a hun-
dred grains contains twenty-eight grains of carbon;
and the following statement will be easily intelligible.
It appears, from experiments which have been made
for the purpose, that during the process of respiration
in an individual of ordinary size and health, about
twenty-seven cubic inches and a half of carbonic
acid gas are given off from the lungs in the course


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 105
of one minute; which at the end of twenty-four
hours would amount to 39,600 cubic inches, or in
round numbers 40,000; and as 100 cubic inches
weigh 464 grains, 40,000 would weigh 18,532 grains.
Then, since a quantity of carbonic acid gas weighing
100 grains contains twenty-eight grains of carbon, a
quantity weighing 18,532 grains would contain 5190
grains, or nearly eleven ounces, at 480 grains to an
ounce: so that a quantity of carbon equalling two-
thirds of a pound in weight is daily discharged from
the blood by means of the simple process of respira-
tion.
In an illustration of the general question of the
adaptation of external nature to the physical condi-
tion of man, it is clearly immaterial whether, during
the process of respiration, the carbonic acid is sup-
posed to be produced by the union of the carbon of
the animal system with the oxygen of the air respired;
or whether, as is possible, the carbonic acid, having
been previously formed in the body at large, is given
off in the form of carbonic acid gas from the lungs,
while the oxygen gas of the atmosphere is absorbed
by those organs. The main point to be considered
is, the fact of the removal of that quantity of carbon,
which could not be retained with safety to the life of
the individual: and when we consider that the entire
quantity of the carbon, thus discharged, is collected
from every the most interior and remote part of the
body, how worthy of admiration is the economy of
nature in producing the intended effect! The air is
the medium through which the carbon is to be dis-
charged; and yet the constitution of the body is
such, that the air could scarcely be introduced into
any of its internal parts without occasioning the most
serious consequences, if not death itself: but by
means of the circulation of the blood, that beautiful
contrivance intended primarily for sustaining the
nourishment and warmth and life of every part, the
noxious principle is conveyed to the lungs; where it
is of necessity brought, if not actually, yet virtually,


106 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
into contact with the air; and thus it is effectually
removed from the system.
SECTION IX.
Effects of the Motion of the Air, as connected with
Human Health, &c.
In the history of water we had an opportunity of
observing how extensive are the benefits arising to
mankind from that physical property, by which its
particles are capable of moving with the greatest
ease among each other: nor are the benefits less
considerable, which arise from the same property in
the element now under consideration; especially
when aided by those alterations in its volume, which
follow upon every change of temperature: for from
these combined causes arise those currents of air,
which administer, in various modes, as well to the
luxury and comforts of man, as to his most important
Wants.
Who does not see the miseries that would result
from a stagnant atmosphere? To the houseless and
half-clothed mendicant indeed, who under exposure
to a wintry sky instinctively collects his limbs into
an attitude as fixed as marble, lest by their motion
he should dissipate the stratum of warmer air imme-
diately surrounding his body—to such an individual
indeed, under such circumstances, a stagnant atmo-
sphere becomes a benefit of the highest value; not
only by preventing or moderating the painful sensa-
tion of cold; but by preventing the dissipation of
that degree of heat which is necessary for the pre-
servation of the vital principle, which in his unshel-
tered state might otherwise possibly be soon extin-
guished. But let circumstances be reversed; and,
instead of the wretched beggar exposed to an incle-
ment sky, let us picture to ourselves an Asiatic prince
surrounded by all the luxuries which power and
opulence can procure, but oppressed by the sultry


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 107
atmosphere of a burning sun; how grateful to his
feelings is the refreshing coolness occasioned by the
artificial agitation of the surrounding air: in order
to extend the means of obtaining which gratification,
fountains of water are customarily introduced into
the interior rooms of Indian and Arabian palaces,
the evaporation of the spray of which gives a re-
freshing coolness to the air. Or let us recur to scenes
more familiar, and more illustrative of the effect
produced; to the bedside of the almost exhausted
invalid, whose existence is alone made tolerable by
the assiduous supply of fresh streams of air: there
let us witness, in the thankful smile which animates
his pallid countenance, the soothing sensation which
the languid sufferer experiences. Even for such a
momentary solace, what, of all his most valuable
possessions, would not every one of those miserable
victims have surrendered, who once perished in that
dreadful dungeon of Calcutta!
In many instances nature tempers the high degree
of heat belonging to particular climates, by the pe-
riodical recurrence of cooling winds at stated hours
of the day. Thus, in the islands and on the coasts in
general of the tropical regions of the earth, the alter-
nations of what are called the sea and the land breeze
are of the highest importance to the comfort and
health of the inhabitants: of which the following
statement, taken from an official paper on the medi-
cal topography of Malacca, furnishes a sufficient il-
lustration.* “The Malay peninsula possesses, though
within the tropics, and almost under the equator, a
very equable temperature and mild climate. What-
ever be the prevailing wind, the sea breeze gene-
rally sets in from the south between ten and twelve
in the morning, and continues till six or seven in the
evening; when, after a short calm, the land wind
begins to blow from the north-east: and so constant
* Printed at the government press, Pinang, 1830. See the
Edin. Med. and Surg. Journal, for July, 1831, p. 179.


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 109
bitants attest the dreadful consequences of a confined
atmosphere: the influence of which often affects not
only the present sensations and comforts, but even
the intellectual, and eventually the moral character,
of those who are habitually exposed to it.
It appears, from recent inquiries, that the physical
and intellectual and moral degradation, so often ob-
servable in the inhabitants of mountain valleys in
general, but noticed particularly in the valleys of the
Rhone, may be referred with probability, among
other causes, to a stagnant atmosphere; and to the
reverberation of heat from the sides of the mountains
which bound those valleys, co-operating with an al-
ternation of piercing winds: the degree of that de-
gradation at least is always proportional to the action
of those causes. -
It is not necessary here to dwell minutely on the
disgusting alteration which the human beings, now
particularized, undergo: those who are desirous of
such information may consult a very recent work by
Dr. James Johnson.* All that is here intended is a
statement of the general fact. And it appears that,
in the milder instances, the principal alteration which
takes place is an enlargement of the thyreoid gland;
which enlargement is by medical men called bron-
chocele, and by the inhabitants of the Alps goitre.f In
the instances of extreme alteration, the stature rarely
reaches the height of five feet; the skin becomes un-
naturally discoloured, and disfigured by eruptions;
the limbs distorted; and the cretin, for so he is de-
nominated in this state, is frequently, in addition,
both deaf and dumb, and entirely idiotic. Between
the state of simple goitre and that of most perfect
* Change of Air, &c. by James Johnson, M. D. London, 8vo.
1831.
# Such an enlargement we often in this country witness in
individuals, who, in every other respect, are so far from being
deformed, that they are frequently remarkable both on account
of their beauty, and the symmetry and full developement of their
whole body.
K


110 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
cretinism the degree of alterations are innumerable.
And, as indicating the connexion between this unna-
tural state of the individual, and the atmosphere
which he habitually respires, the following observa-
tion is worthy of attention. “In the Vallais,” and
“in the lower gorges or ravines that open on its
sides, both cretinism and goitre prevail in the most
intense degrees: as we ascend the neighbouring
mountains, cretinism disappears, and goitre only is
observed; and when we reach a certain altitude,
both maladies vanish.”
Among the physical effects of the motion of the
air, that of sound is among the most remarkable and
important: of the intimate nature of which, however,
and of the laws that regulate its transmission, I should
not speak more particularly, even if I felt myself
competent to the task; being a subject of too ab-
struse a character in itself to claim a close investi-
gation in a treatise like the present: besides which,
it will be examined in a separate treatise by others.
Whatever may be the moral effects either of simple
sounds, or of certain combinations of sounds, and
such effects though apparently of a fugitive charac-
ter are occasionally very powerful, there can be no
doubt that particular sounds act physically on our
frame. Thus the gentle murmur of running water,
or the repetition of any simple tone, even though not
agreeable in itself, is calculated to sooth the whole
nervous system so as to induce sleep. There are few
perhaps who have not experienced such an effect,
from long continued attention to a public speaker;
and an apparent, though probably not the legitimate,
proof of the effect having been produced by the
sound of the voice of the speaker is derived from the
fact, that, upon his ceasing to speak, the sleeper
usually awakes. There are few, again, who have
not known from personal experience that certain
tones affect the teeth with that peculiar and unplea-
* Change of Air, &c. p. 58.


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 111
sant sensation familiarly described under the term,
set on edge. Even in the appalling sensation excited
by thunder, the mind is probably overawed by the
physical effect produced on the nervous system by
the crash, rather than by any apprehension of dan-
ger from the thunder itself: for that sensation is
usually excited even in those who are most assured
that no danger is to be expected from the loudest crash
of the thunder, but only from the lightning which
accompanies it. Nor is it unreasonable to suppose
that an analogy exists between the sense of hearing
and the other senses, with reference to the objects of
their several sensations: and since in the case of
taste, of sight, of smell, and of touch, some objects
are on reasonable grounds conjectured to be naturally
offensive, while others are agreeable to the respec-
tive senses; why, it may be asked, should not the
same relations hold with respect to the ear and the
peculiar objects of its sensation? Evelyn well ob-
serves, that the bountiful Creator has left none of the
senses which he has not gratified at once with their
most agreeable and proper objects.
Of all the objects of sense, sound perhaps, as a
principle of mental association, the most powerfully
excites a recollection of past scenes and feelings.
Shakspeare briefly elucidates this principle in these
lines:
“Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
Hath but a losing office; and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Remembered knolling a departed friend.”
HENRY IV. Part II. Act I. Scene 1.
The author of the “Pleasures of Memory” not
less forcibly illustrates the same principle.
“The intrepid Swiss, who guards a foreign shore,
Condemned to climb his mountain cliffs no more,
If chance he hear the song so sweetly wild,
Which on those cliffs his infant hours beguiled,
Melts at the long-lost scenes that round him rise,
And sinks a martyr to repentant sighs.”
RoGERs, &c. page 21, line 1.


112 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
Nor is the principle less powerfully illustrated in
that most beautiful Psalm beginning with the words,
“By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept:”
for who can read that affecting apostrophe, “How
shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land,”
without entering into all the pathos of the scene re-
presented by the sacred poet to the imagination?
It is said to be the opinion of the Hindoos, and
though not of much value in argument, there is at
least a metaphysical elegance in the opinion, that
the remarkable effects of music on the human mind
depend on its power of recalling to the memory the
airs of paradise, heard in a state of pre-existence.
But, if an individual instance of the truth of the
present position were to be selected, it would not be
possible perhaps to find one more impressive than
that which has been recorded of the late emperor of
the French. It is said that at that period of his life,
when the consequences of his infatuated conduct had
fully developed themselves in unforeseen reverses,
Napoleon, driven to the necessity of defending him-
self within his own kingdom with the shattered rem-
nant of his army, had taken up a position at Brienne,
the very spot where he had received the rudiments
of his early education; when, unexpectedly, and
while he was anxiously employed in a practical ap-
plication of those military principles which first exer-
cised the energies of his young mind in the college
of Brienne, his attention was arrested by the sound
of the church clock. The pomp of his imperial court,
and even the glories of Marengo and of Austerlitz,
faded for a moment from his regard, and almost
from his recollection. Fixed for a while to the spot
on which he stood, in motionless attention to the well
known sound, he at length gave utterance to his feel-
ings; and condemned the tenour of his whole subse-
quent life, by confessing that the hours, then brought
back to his recollection, were happier than any he
had experienced throughout the whole course of his
tempestuous career. He might perhaps with truth


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. I 13
have added, when looking at the various objects of
the surrounding scenery,
“I feel the gales, that from ye blow,
A momentary bliss bestow.”
Perhaps also during this moment, and in making a
confession so humiliating, he actually did experience
that moral state represented by Milton to have been
felt by the fallen angel—
“Thrice he essayed (to speak;) and thrice, in spite of scorn,
Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth—”
But the effect produced on his mind seems to have
been momentary; at least it certainly did not alter
his course of action. And too probably he was at
that time rather tormented by remorse, than softened
by repentance; a state but little favourable to the
adoption of better counsels, even if he could then
have retrieved his fortunes by such a change.
SECTION X.
Effects of the Motion of the Air, as connected with the
Arts, &c.
I PRoceed now to consider the effects of the atmo-
sphere, while in a state of motion, in aiding the vari-
ous arts and operations of civilized society: in which
the action is sometimes explicable on mechanical,
sometimes on chemical or on physical principles.
It would not be a short or easy task to enumerate
the various substances which require to be deprived
of all sensible moisture, in order to be applicable to
the immediate purposes of life; or in order to be ca-
pable of being preserved in a state fit for future use:
and the separation of that moisture which they may
contain in their natural state, or which they may have
accidentally contracted, can in general only be ef-
fected by exposure to the open air; but as that por-
tion of the air, which is in contact with the moistened
K 2


114 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
substance, would soon be so far saturated with the
vapour arising from it as to be incapable of absorb-
ing more, it must necessarily be replaced by succes-
sive portions of fresh air; in order that the substance
may be thoroughly dried: and hence we see the ad-
vantage of currents of air, or, in common language,
of the wind, for the purposes in question. Without
the aid of such currents, the grass newly mown
would often with difficulty be converted into hay:
and with still more difficulty would that conversion
take place should it during the process, as is most
likely to happen, be exposed to rain. The same diffi-
culty would occur, but attended with much more se-
rious effects, in the case of sheaves of wheat or bar-
ley, which having been once drenched with rain
would be rendered unfit for producing bread, unless
the moisture were soon dissipated: and with respect
to the process of reducing the corn itself to the state
of meal, that is, in common language, of grinding it;
although many other mechanical means are capable
of being applied to that purpose, who does not see
the advantages of the common windmill, even where
other means are available, which in many places
they would not be? but windmills would themselves
be unavailable, were there no currents of air to set
them in motion.
In the drying of moistened linen, and of paper
newly made; in the seasoning, as it is called, of wood;
and on numerous other occasions, the same advan-
tages occur from the same cause, and are explicable
in the same way. But there is one instance, of very
familiar occurrence, where the effect of a free venti-
lation is productive of the greatest comfort. At the
breaking up of a long protracted frost, during which
the air has been enabled to absorb and retain in an
insensible state an unusual quantity of moisture, that
moisture, as soon as the thaw takes place, is deposited
upon the surface of every thing with which it comes
in contact: and there can be scarcely an individual,
from the peasant to the noble, who has not often ex-


116 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
vanced state of science and naval architecture, a
motionless state of the atmosphere, or a calm, might
be fatal to all their speculations. Every one who has
lived for a time on the sea coast must have observed
with what anxiety the owner of the smallest fishing
boat watches the variations in the state or direction
of the wind, as connected with the practicability of
putting out to sea. If the wind be in an unfavoura-
ble quarter, or if it blow not with sufficient force to
swell his sails, he saunters in listless inactivity along
the beach: but if the wished for breeze spring up,
#. scene is at once changed, and all is alacrity and
116.
In some parts of the world Providence has com-
pensated for the disadvantages arising from the ge-
neral uncertainty of the wind, by the continued regu-
larity of its direction through stated seasons: in con-
sequence of which, the merchantman calculates upon
the commencement and duration of his voyage with
a degree of security and confidence, which sets him
comparatively at ease as to the event. These periodi-
cal currents of air indeed have been named from this
very circumstance the trade winds: and, in illustra-
tion of their adaptation to the purposes of commerce,
a morestriking instance perhaps could not be adduced
than the following, which is given in a volume, en-
titled, “Four Years' Residence in the West Indies,”
written by a gentleman of the name of Bayley.” In
the description of the island of St. Vincent it is there
stated that a little sloop, the private signal of which
was unknown to any of the merchants, sailed into
the harbour one morning, and immediately attracted
the notice of the surrounding crowd; and the history
of its unexpected appearance is thus given. “Every
one has heard of the little fishing smacks employed
in cruising along the coast of Scotland; which carry
herrings and other fish to Leith, Edinburgh, or Glas-
gow, worked by three or four hardy sailors, and
* London, 8vo. 1830, p. 292.


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 117
generally commanded by an individual having no
other knowledge of navigation than that which en-
ables him to keep his dead reckoning, and to take the
sun with his quadrant at noon day.
“It appears that a man who owned and com-
manded one of these coasting vessels had been in
the habit of seeing the West India ships load and
unload in the several ports of Scotland; and, having
learned that sugar was a very profitable cargo, he
determined, by way of speculation, on making a trip
to St. Vincent, and returning to the Scottish market
with a few hogsheads of that commodity. The na-
tives were perfectly astonished—they had never
heard of such a feat before; and they deemed it
quite impossible that a mere fishing smack, worked
by only four men, and commanded by an ignorant
master, should plough the boisterous billows of the
Atlantic, and reach the West Indies in safety; yet
so it was. The hardy Scotchman freighted his vessel;
made sail; crossed the bay of Biscay in a gale; got
into the trades; and scudded along before the wind,
at the rate of seven knots an hour, trusting to his
dead reckoning all the way. He spoke no vessel
during the whole voyage, and never once saw land
until the morning of the thirty-fifth day; when he
descried St. Vincent's right a-head: and setting his
gaft-topsail, he ran down, under a light breeze, along
the windward coast of the island; and came to an-
chor about eleven o’clock under the circumstances
before mentioned.”
Such a vessel, and so manned, could hardly have
performed the voyage here described, had it not been
aided by the current of the trade wind: and what
then must be the advantage of such a wind, when,
instead of aiding the puny enterprise of a single and
obscure individual, it forwards the annual fleets of
mighty nations. Most important therefore to the
Roman empire was the discovery of Hippalus, which
enabled its fleets to stretch across at once from the
African to the Indian coast by means of the south-


ADAPTATION OF MINERALS. I 19
water from whence clouds of rain, and consequently
springs and rivers are derived, we have also seen
that it at the same time prevents, by the effect of its
pressure on their surface, the unlimited evaporation
and consequent exhaustion of the ocean, and other
sources, from whence that mass of water is supplied.
And, again, while the agitation of the air contributes
to the health of man, by supplying those currents
which remove or prevent the accumulation of local
impurities, it at the same time facilitates that inter-
course between different nations in which the wel-
fare of the whole world is ultimately concerned.
And lastly, while in passing from the lungs in the act
of expiration it essentially forms the voice, it at the
same time removes from the system that noxious
principle, the retention of which would be incom-
patible with life.
CHAPTER VII.
ADAPTATION OF MINERALS TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION
OF MAN.
SECTION I.
The general Characters of Minerals.
It has been shown in the foregoing chapter, that
the constituent parts of the atmosphere are few in
number, and of great simplicity in their composition;
that some of them usually exist in the state of invi-
sible vapour, and consequently are without sensible
form and colour: and that others, as light, and heat,
and electricity, are not only without form and co-
lour, but are also of such tenuity as to be incapable
of affecting the most delicately constructed balance;
in common language, are without weight. We are
now entering on a department of nature, which con-


120 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
sists of objects characterized by properties very
different from those we have been lately considering;
remarkable, as a class, for the mathematical pre-
cision of their form, the brilliancy and variety of
their colour, and for their great weight; most of
them being many times heavier than the heaviest
element of the atmosphere.
Few mineral substances, however, exist in such a
state of purity as to exhibit the simple characters of
their individual properties; the class consisting of a
great variety of species, which are capable of enter-
ing into union with each other, and of which the
natural combinations are extremely numerous. But,
as might be anticipated from the general analogy of
nature, the advantages arising to mankind from this
mixture of character are infinitely greater than if
the individual minerals had existed in a state of pu-
rity, and uncombined with each other. Thus, to take
the most familiar, and perhaps the most important
instance, almost all natural soils consist principally
of mixtures of the three earths called silez, lime, and
alumine; none of which, unmixed with either of the
other two, or at least with some equivalent substance,
would serve the purposes of agriculture.
Again, all the common forms of clay consist prin-
cipally of various combinations of the two earths
called silew and alumine; and although many of
those properties which make clay valuable are com-
municated by the alumine, the silex contributes
very considerably towards the general utility of the
compound.
SECTION II.
Application of Minerals to Architecture and Sculpture.
AMong the earliest arts of civilized life may be
justly reckoned the rudiments of architecture: for it
may be with truth affirmed that, with very few ex-
ceptions, wherever man exists in a state of society,


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 121
he is found to protect himself from the vicissitudes
of the weather, not only by the immediate clothing
of his body, but by means of independent habita-
tions; to which, if at no other time, at the close of
the day at least, he betakes himself; in order to enjoy
that periodical rest which is requisite for the renew-
ed exertion of his bodily powers: and very few are
the situations which do not afford convenient mate-
rials for the purposes of building.
In whatever situation then man may be placed,
he will most probably have the means of procuring
the comfort of a fixed habitation. Nor is it long
before he adds a certain degree of luxury to utility:
for wherever the simple architecture of the dwelling
is not decorated with some ornamental additions, we
may be certain that society exists in a very low state
of civilization; so that sculpture, as an artificial re-
finement, seems to be a natural consequence of archi-
tecture. And, perhaps, the superiority attainable by
education and habit is not displayed in any of the
arts of life so strikingly as in these. From the simple
tent of the Bedouin to the majestic ruins of Palmyra,
among which it is pitched; or from the rude hut of
the modern Acropolis to the awful grandeur of the
Parthenon which overshadows it; how infinite are
the gradations which mark the progress of these
arts!
And with respect to statuary, that highest depart-
ment of the art of sculpture, what emotions is it not
capable of raising in the mind, particularly when
employed in representing the passions or any of the
attributes of man If, for instance, the mind of the
savage could be instantaneously elevated to the feel-
ing of correct taste, what would be the sensations of
the islander of the southern Pacific, in turning from
the view of his hideously-formed and grim idol, to the
contemplation of that glory of the Vatican,
— “the Lord of the unerring bow,
The God of life, and poesy, and light;
L


122 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
The sun in human limbs arrayed, and brow
All radiant from his triumph in the fight:
— in whose eye
And nostril, beautiful disdain, and might,
And majesty, flash their full lightnings by,
Developing in that one glance the Deity.”
I will not here attempt to trace the history of
architecture, considered as an art characteristic of
civilized society: for in such an attempt our reason-
ing must often be founded on conjecture instead of
facts; than which nothing is more unsatisfactory and
irksome to a philosophically contemplative mind. It
will be more congenial to the purpose of this treatise
to point out the means afforded by nature for the
advancement of an art, which in its origin is neces-
sary to some of the chief wants and comforts of indi-
viduals; and which is subsequently conducive, by
the exercise of the highest faculties of the mind, not
only to national utility and glory, but also to national
security.t
With respect to the inferior animals, the instinctive
propensity to construct receptacles for themselves
or their offspring is obvious: and if on any ground we
may attribute the principle of instinct to man, it
seems justifiable on that which we are now consider-
ing. Omitting, however, those more remarkable in-
stances of instinct which direct the bee, the ant, the
spider, the swallow, or the beaver, in the fabrication
of the structures which they put together with such
nice art; if we merely consider the simple burrow of
the rabbit or the mole, we seem to acquire a strong
presumption that man would not be destitute of a
similar instinct: and it may reasonably be supposed
that, by whatever intellectual power or internal sen-
sation the savage is directed so to adjust the various
joints and muscles of his limbs as to balance his body
when in danger of falling, by a similar power he is
* Childe Harold, canto iv. stanza 161.
f In the construction for instance of military fortifications, and
piers, and bridges, &c.


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 123
enabled so to adjust the rude boughs of which his hut
is composed, that by mutually supporting one another
they may at the same time serve for a support to the
grass, or moss, which is thrown over them for the
purpose of forming a shelter.” Numerous traces of
such an instinct are observable in the amusements of
children; as in the arrangement of loose stones in the
form of enclosures; and in the formation of banks
and dikes by the heaping up of the sand of the sea
beach ; and, should it be asserted that such amuse-
ments are not to be referred to instinct, but are to be
classed simply under the principle of imitation, (as
may certainly many of the amusements of children,)
it may be answered, that, if not original instincts,
they may be considered as at least instinctive imita-
tions of the necessary engagements of after life. It
has been sometimes supposed that the inclining
branches of an avenue of elms or other trees sug-
* The following statement, from Lewis and Clarke's Travels,
will show how much may be effected by human ingenuity and
industry though aided by the slightest means: “The Columbian
Indians possess very few axes; and the only tool employed in
their building, from the felling of the tree to the delicate work-
manship of the images, (adorning their canoes,) is a chisel made
of an old file : and this is worked without the aid of a mallet.
But with this they finish a canoe fifty feet long, and capable of
holding between twenty and thirty persons, in a few weeks.” p.
435. To the preceding statement may with propriety be added
the following translation of the account which accompanies the
twelfth plate in the first volume of De Bry: “The method of
making boats in Virginia is truly wonderful: for although the
natives have no instruments of iron, or in any way resembling
those of European nations, they still have the power of making
boats fully capable of being conveniently navigated. Having
selected a large and lofty tree, they surround it with a fire just
above the roots; taking care to smother any flame, lest it should
injure the rising part of the stem. In this way they burn through
the greater part of the stem; and, by thus weakening it, occasion
its downfal. By a similar process they burn away the branches
and the upper part of the tree; and, raising the trunk thus pre-
prepared on forked props, so as to support it at a convenient
height for working, they scrape away the bark by means of
large shells; and then excavate it in a longitudinal direction by
alternately burning and scraping it.”


124 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
gested the idea of the gothic aisle; but such a suppo-
sition seems both unnecessary in itself, and incorrect
as to the probable order of occurrences: for whoever
has read the travels of Pallas through different parts
of the Russian empire, or of other Oriental travellers,
will find ample proof of the existence of the gothic
style of architecture long before our earliest Euro-
pean churches were built: and it is just as probable,
if not more so, that the gothic aisle suggested the
idea of the elm avenue, as that this suggested the idea
of the gothic aisle. -
The mineral substances employed in the structure
of human habitations necessarily differ in different
parts of the world, in consequence of the difference
of the materials afforded by the subjacent strata;
and, accordingly, an experienced eye will conjecture,
almost with certainty, the character of the subjacent
strata, from the nature of the materials employed in
the buildings erected on the surface: or, conversely,
if the nature of the subjacent strata be antecedently
known, the character of the stone employed in the
buildings of the vicinity will, almost to a certainty,
be known also ; and, on this principle, as much sur-
prise would be excited in the mind of a well-informed
geologist by the prevalence of granite in the build-
ings of Kent or Sussex, as of limestone near the
Land's End in Cornwall.
The nature, however, of the material employed in
building is in some measure determined by the par-
ticular stage of civilization of the inhabitants. Thus
in the early periods of civilization, and before the
aboriginal forests of a country have been cleared,
wood has usually been the principal and almost the
only substance employed. In proportion as the po-
pulation of a country increases, wood becomes more
and more scarce; and then brick and stone begin to
be employed : but when the population has increased
to a very considerable extent, those materials almost
entirely supersede the use of wood, unless in the in-
terior of the building: and hence, in this densely


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 125
peopled island, the half-timbered dwellings of our
ancestors are daily becoming more picturesque.*
The value of building stone depending greatly on
its hardness, but the difficulty of working it being in-
creased proportionally to its degree of hardness, it
ought not to escape our notice, in a treatise, of which
it is the professed object to illustrate the adaptation
of external nature to the physical condition of man,
that many of the common forms of building stone,
though soft while yet undetached from the quarry,
become hardened very considerably by exposure to
the air: which change in their state enhances their
value in a twofold sense; for, in consequence of their .
previous softness, they are more easily worked;
while their subsequent hardness insures the greater
durability of the building in which they are employed.
And, again, though many varieties of stone are so
easily worked, even after a long exposure to the air,
as to have acquired in consequence the name of free-
stone; yet even with respect to such as are of the
hardest and toughest quality, an equal degree of ease
in working them is easily attainable by practice. To
an unpractised workman, for instance, nothing is
more difficult than to give a determinate form, by the
hammer or chisel, to granite, slate, or flint; and yet
a little experience enables the mason to work all
these to the greatest nicety: and that person would
indeed be very incurious, who, although he might not
naturally be disposed to notice mechanical processes,
did not feel an interest in observing the form which
the roofing-slate takes under the bill of the slater; or
the ease with which the gun-flint is formed into its
peculiar shape by a few strokes of a light hammer.
But, after the stones have been detached from the
quarry, and have been worked into a convenient
form for building, it is in the greater number of in-
stances necessary to the stability of the intended
* Throughout the interior of Russia and of Siberia the greater
part of the buildings in every town were, within a few years,
entirely of wood.
L 2


126 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
structure, that they should be consolidated together
by some intermediate substance: for it would very
rarely happen that the separate stones could be ob-
tained of such a size as to be capable of remaining
fixed by their own weight. Sometimes this effect is
produced by means merely mechanical, as in the
case of the construction of the larger circle of Stone-
henge; where the upper extremity of two contiguous
perpendicular stones, being pared away so as to form
what is called a tenon, is let into a corresponding
cavity called a mortise cut into each extremity of
the horizontal stone that unites them.
As such Cyclopean masonry would be far too ex-
pensive for common purposes; and as the labour and
expense of uniting together, by cramps of iron or
other mechanical means, the very great number of
stones requisite for the construction of even a small
building, would be endless; we at once see the im-
portance of any medium that will fully and readily
effect that union, without much expense of time or
money: and how completely the substance called
‘mortar answers the intended purpose, the slightest
observation will make manifest. As the employment
of this useful substance appears to have existed an-
tecedently to history, it is not worth while to spend
any time in conjecturing how it was first discovered:
but it is quite in unison with the intention of the pre-
sent treatise to observe, that, of the three materials of
which it is principally made, namely lime, sand, and
water, the first is readily obtained by the simple ap-
plication of heat to any common form of limestone,
a process which is occasionally going on in every
limekiln; and the means of obtaining the two others
are almost every where at hand.
Hitherto the materials, applicable to the arts of
architecture and sculpture, have been considered as
adapted to the common or necessary wants of man-
kind: but in what may not improperly be called the
poetry of those arts, they are capable, in their appli-
cation, of eliciting the highest powers of the imagi-


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 127
- w
nation: for surely this may with propriety be affirm-
ed of such sublime productions as the Parthenon in
architecture, or the Belvedere Apollo in sculpture.
Nor are we obliged to seek for such productions
solely in the classic ages of antiquity: for, to say
nothing of Palladio, Michael Angelo, Canova, Thor-
valdson, and other ornaments of modern Europe, our
own country has given birth to works of the highest
excellence in either department of the art. Nor need
this assertion be made with any hesitation, while in
architecture that imperishable monument of genius,
the Eddystone lighthouse, attests the fame of Smea-
ton; and in sculpture, the pure and simple taste of
Chantrey has, in that most exquisite work contained
within the walls of Litchfield cathedral, thrown a
truth and beauty over the image of death, which
none of his predecessors had ever attained.*
Who can peruse the journal of Smeaton, and not
admire the penetration, the resources, and the activity
of his genius' Consider the nature of the task which
he had engaged to perform; his limited and uncer-
tain opportunities of action; the failures of others
who had preceded him in a similar undertaking; the
consequent necessity of new principles, and new
combinations, in his plan of operations; the formida-
ble dangers he was continually under the necessity
of encountering; and, lastly, the awful responsibility
of the undertaking itself: consider all these points,
and it may be safely affirmed that, as an instance of
the conjoined effects of personal enterprise, fortitude,
and perseverance, the Eddystone lighthouse stands
unrivalled.
On a small, precipitous, and completely insulated
rock, deriving its very name from the irregular and
impetuous eddies which prevail around it; elevated
but a few feet above the level of the surrounding
* One exception to this assertion perhaps exists, in a work on
a similar subject by Banks; in the church of Ashbourne, Der-
byshire.


128 ADAPTATION of MINERALs
ocean, even in its calmest state; and exposed at all
times to the uninterrupted swell of the Atlantic ; by
the joint violence of the wind and waves of which, a
preceding structure had been in a moment swept
away, leaving not a wreck behind; on such a spot
was this new wonder of the world to be erected.
Former experience is here of little avail, and com-
mon principles and means have been already tried
in vain; the architect is thrown almost entirely on
his own resources; and they do not fail him. In
order to combat the force of those overpowering
elements to which the future structure is to be con-
stantly exposed, he looks about for that natural form
which is found most permanently to resist a similar
conflict; and viewing with a philosophic eye the ex-
panded base of the oak, and the varying proportions
of its rising stem, he made the happy selection of
this object as the type of the proportions of his in-
tended work.
“On this occasion,” he himself says,” “the natural
figure of the waist or bole of a large spreading oak
presented itself to my imagination. Let us for a mo-
ment consider this tree: suppose at twelve or fifteen
feet above its base, it branches out in every direc-
tion, and forms a large bushy top, as we often ob-
serve. This top, when full of leaves, is subject to a
very great impulse from the agitation of violent
winds; yet partly by its elasticity, and partly by the
natural strength arising from its figure, it resists
them all, even for ages, till the gradual decay of the
material diminishes the coherence of the parts, and .
they suffer piecemeal by the violence of the storm:
but it is very rare that we hear of such a tree being
torn up by the roots. Let us now consider its par-
ticular figure—connected with its roots, which lie
hid below ground, it rises from the surface thereof
with a large swelling base, which at the height of
* A Narration of the Building, &c. of the Eddystone Light-
house, London, 1791, p. 42.


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 129
one diameter is generally reduced by an elegant
curve, concave to the eye, to a diamter less by at
least one third, and sometimes to half of its original
base. From thence its taper diminishing more slow,
its sides by degrees come into a perpendicular, and
for some height form a cylinder.
“After that, a preparation of more circumference
becomes necessary for the strong insertion and es-
tablishment of the principal boughs, which produces
a swelling of its diameter. Now we can hardly
doubt but that every section of the tree is nearly of
an equal strength in proportion to what it has to re-
sist: and were we to lop off its principal boughs, and
expose it in that state to a rapid current of water,
we should find it as much capable of resisting the
action of the heavier fluid, when divested of the
greatest parts of its clothing, as it was that of the
lighter when all its spreading ornaments were ex-
posed to the fury of the winds: and hence we may
derive an idea of what the shape of a column of the
greatest stability ought to be, to resist the action of
external violence, when the quantity of matter is
given whereof it is to be composed.”
But invention and composition do not constitute
the whole of the character of genius, in the practi-
cal arts at least. Industry, both that which resists
the listlessness arising from continuity and sameness
of pursuit; and, still more, that which, though re-
peatedly repressed by unexpected impediments, as
repeatedly recovers its elasticity; unconquerable and
indefatigable industry, like that of the ant, is likewise
requisite. And such industry did Smeaton manifest:
and his industry has hitherto been completely crown-
ed with success. The Eddystone has withstood the
war of winds and waves through the greater part of
a century, unshaken in a single point; and if of any
human work we dare affirm as much, we might
affirm of this, “manet aeternumque manebit.”
We now turn to the efforts of genius, of another,
and, intrinsically, a higher order—to that beautiful


132 ADAPTATION of MINERALs
from that mineral of which drawing pencils are made,
and which is usually, though not with propriety,
called plumbago and black lead; and yet nothing has
been more clearly proved than that equal weights of
these several substances, if submitted to the process of
combustion, will produce nearly equal proportions of
carbonic acid gas; which has already been stated to
be a chemical combination of definite proportions of
carbon and oxygen; the diamond, which is the purest
form of carbon, burning away without leaving any
residuum; the other two leaving a very small pro-
portion of ashes, in consequence of their containing
foreign matter.
And here we can hardly fail to notice a very re-
markable instance of what may be called the econo-
mical provisions of nature. How rarely, and in what
small quantities are the diamond and plumbago
found; and how abundantly does coal predominate
in many parts of the world ! The Borrodale mine of
plumbago in Cumberland is the most considerable
source of that substance throughout Europe; and
the province of Golconda almost alone supplies the
whole world with diamonds: and, probably, the
accumulated weight of all the plumbago and of all
the diamonds, which have ever been derived from
those and other sources, would not equal a hundredth
part of the weight of coal which is daily quarried in
Great Britain. Suppose now that the case had been
reversed; and what would have been the conse-
quence 1 diamond and plumbago, though really com-
bustible substances, yet from their slow combustibility
could never have answered, in the place of coal, as a
fuel for general purposes; and, on the other hand,
without that large supply of coal which nature has
provided, what would have become of the domestic
comforts and commercial speculations of the greater
part of Europe, during the two last centuries'
The value of the diamond is not derived solely
from its transparency and lustre. Its remarkable
hardness is another and a most useful property be-


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 133
longing to it; for, in consequence of its great degree
of hardness, it is capable of cutting and polishing not
only the hardest glass, but even the hardest gems:
and if we consider how useful a substance glass is,
how universally employed as a means of at the same
time admitting light and excluding the air from the
interior of our houses; but that in consequence of
its hardness and brittleness it would with great diffi-
culty be divided by any common mechanical instru-
ment, so as accurately to fit the frames in which it
is fixed for the above purposes, we at once see the
value of a substance which easily and readily accom-
plishes that end. A small diamond no larger than a
mustard seed, brought to a point and fixed in a con-
venient handle, enables the glazier to cut a plate of
glass into pieces of any shape that he pleases: and
the same instrument will serve his daily use for many
successive years. Nor is it among the least of the
glories of this gem, that it gave occasion to that
remarkable conjecture of sir Isaac Newton respecting
its chemical nature. That philosopher having ob-
served, that the refractive power of transparent sub-
stances is in general proportional to their density;
but that, of substances of equal density, those which
are combustible possess the refractive power, in a
higher degree than those which are not, concluded
from a comparison of the density and refractive
power of the diamond, that it contained an inflam-
mable principle; which opinion was subsequently
confirmed by direct experiment. It will be remem-
bered by the chemical reader that on the same
ground he made the same conjecture with respect to
water, and with the same success. And never, per-
haps, did the eye of philosophy penetrate more un-
expectedly the thick veil which is so often found to
hide the real character of various forms of matter:
for, imperishable as from its name the adamant was
supposed to be, who would have antecedently ex-
pected that it might be dissipated into air by the
process of combustion? and, with respect to the
M


134 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
other subject of his conjecture, if any principle was
opposed to combustibility in the opinion of mankind
it was water—“Aquae contrarius ignis.”
SECTION IV.
The Distribution and relative Proportions of Sea and
Land; and the geological Arrangement and physical
Character of some of the superficial Strata of the
Earth.
As it is clearly a just object of the present treatise
to select the most familiar and most obvious instances
of the principle intended to be illustrated, I shall
in entering upon the abstruse department of geology,
consider only those phenomena which offer them-
selves to the eye in every part of the world; and
which are either at once intelligible, or easily de-
monstrable, to the commonest observer.
Of such phenomena the most prominent are the
general distribution of the sea and the land; and the
relative proportions of their superficial extent. With
reference to the sea, although we may never know
all the ends which are answered by its saltness, and
why its depth should be greater in some parts than
others; and although we can perhaps form no more
than a conjecture as to the advantages derivable
from the tides; (the prevention, for instance, of a
stagnant state of the water;) or from the accumula-
tion of ice near the poles; (the cooling, probably, of
the general mass of the atmosphere, and the conse-
quent production of currents of air;) yet of its mode
of distribution, and of the relative extent of its sur-
face, we readily apprehend the reason; simply in
considering that all those forms of water which con-
tribute to the fertilization of the earth, or the support
of animal life, are derived from the ocean. Were
the superficial extent of this therefore much less
than it is, the quantity evaporated would not be suf-
ficient for the intended purposes; or, were the dis-


136 ADAPTATION OF MINERALs
mulation produce rivers. And, as best calculated to
secure the permanent effect, the substance of these
mountains is in general so hard, and impermeable to
water, that, with reference to the present system of
the earth, they may justly be characterized by the
epithet “everlasting.” But if, instead of being thus
durable, they were of a soft or friable substance,
they would soon cease to exist as mountains; and if
they were porous, instead of compact, they would
absorb much of that rain which now contributes to
the formation of rivers.
From that portion of the rain which, in compara-
tively flat districts, sinks beneath the surface of the
earth, reservoirs of water are formed : from which,
either spontaneous springs arise, or into which, arti-
ficial excavations called wells are sunk: and of the
utility of such reservoirs, those beds of gravel which
occur in every part of the world afford upon the
whole the best illustration.
SECTION V.
Beds of Gravel.
FEw subjects would at the first view appear more
barren of interest than a bed of gravel; consisting,
as it usually does, of nothing but fragments of broken
pebbles and sand, heaped together in apparently in-
extricable confusion. Yet such beds, dispersed as
they are very generally over the surface of the re-
gular strata, administer materially to the wants of
man; in affording him the means of supplying him-
self readily with that important necessary of life,
Water.
From the irregularity in the form and size of the
component parts of gravel, and from the slight de-
gree of cohesion by which they are united, the whole
mass is necessarily porous: and hence, readily trans-
mitting the rain which falls on its surface, becomes
charged with water to an extent proportional to the
quantity of rain which has penetrated it; being


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 137
enabled to retain the water thus accumulated, in
consequence of its resting on some substratum, as
clay, which is impermeable to water: so that, if an
excavation sufficiently deep be made into any part
of the gravel, the water immediately drains into this
excavation, and rises at length to the level of the
general mass of water contained in the whole bed;
by which easy process, in such instances at least,
those reservoirs, called wells, are formed: and these
reservoirs are never exhausted, so long as the whole
bed of gravel retains any considerable proportion of
water. A very ready illustration of this fact is
afforded by the familiar instance of those excava-
tions which children are accustomed to make in the
sand of the sea beach, while yet charged with mois-
ture during the ebbing of the tide.
The inhabitants of a town which, like Oxford, is
built partly on a comparatively shallow bed of gravel,
and partly on a deep stratum of clay, can well ap-
preciate the value of the former substratum of their
habitations, with reference to the facility of procuring
water: for while they, whose dwellings are built on
the gravel, can readily obtain water by sinking a
well immediately on the spot; they whose dwellings
are on the clay, must either procure water from a
distance, or incur a very serious, and, finally per-
haps, useless expense, in attempting to penetrate the
clay.” With respect to its general uses, gravel seems
only to be employed in the repairing of roads and
walks; in the composition of some kinds of mortar;
and as a convenient occasional ballast for sailing
vessels: so that, if we confine our view to the means
afforded by gravel beds of supplying the ordinary
wants of man, their history may be comprised in a
* From the observation of an analogous arrangement in the
general strata of the earth, namely, that those which are per-
vious to water alternate with those which are impervious to
water, Mr. William Smith, “the father of English geology,”
became acquainted with the origin of springs, and the true prin-
ciples of draining.
M 2


138 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
few words. Not so, if we view them with reference
to their origin, and the nature of their occasional
contents: and little dreams any one, save the pro-
fessed geologist, what a mine lies hid, in those con-
fused heaps of ruin, for the exercise of man's intel-
lectual faculties. Few subjects indeed have afforded
ampler scope for philosophical reflection. In proof
of which, I need do no more than refer to the labours
and ingenuity of Cuvier on the continent, and of
Professor Buckland in our own country: of whom
the one, by a scientific examination of the organic
remains of gravel beds, in addition to those of some
of the regular strata, has brought to light not only
numerous individual species, but whole families of
animals, which have ceased to exist ages and ages".
since: and the other, with no less labour and inge-
nuity, has all but exhibited some of these animals to
our view in the very act of devouring and digesting
their food. s
How often, and with what intense interest, has not
the scientific geologist perused the original essays of
Cuvier; in which, setting out from the casual ...]
vation of a simple fragment of a fossil bone belonging
to some extinct species, he has established not only
the class and order, but even the size and propor-
tions of the individual to which it belonged, and the
general nature of its food. And how often, in addi-
tion to professed geologists, has not an attentive
audience of academical students listened with admi-
ration to the clear and vivid eloquence of the other
of those philosophers, the Geological Professor of
Oxford, while he unfolded that beautiful chain of
facts by which he traced his antediluvian animals
to their native caves; and exposed to view, to the
mental eye at least, and almost to the corporeal, their
particular habits, and even the relics of their last
meal. And, lest there should be any doubt as to the
nature of this meal, he discovered, by a most philo-
sophical, for I will not say fortunate conjecture, un-
equivocal proofs of the actual remains of it; not only


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 139
in its original, but also in its digested state. I here
allude particularly to his verification of the masses
of digested bone which he has most satisfactorily
shown to have passed through the whole tract of the
digestive organs of his favourite hyenas; and which
are so nearly identical, in every character, with the
similar masses that daily traverse the same organs
of the living species, as to make it difficult even for
an experienced eye to ascertain the difference be-
tween them.
It is natural that I should feel a pleasure in re-
cording the well-earned fame of a friend with whom
I have lived in habits of intimacy for more than
twenty years; and whom, in the commencement of
his career, I had the good fortune to lead into that
avenue of science, on which he has subsequently
thrown more light than perhaps any other English
geologist; with the exception indeed of one, the
reverend W. Conybeare, the admiration of whose
comprehensive and commanding views, as well in
fossil as in general geology, is not confined to his
own countrymen; the members of the French Insti-
tute having attested their sense of his pre-eminent
talents by the high honour of selecting him, a few
ears since, as one of their foreign associates—an
onour particularly distinguished by the uncommon
circumstance, that it was not only unsolicited, but
unexpected, by himself.
On one point, however, of professor Buckland's
general theory of the organic remains met with in
gravel beds, and in certain natural caverns, I not
only differ from him, but think it right to express the
ground of that difference. Dr. Buckland's argu-
ments in favour of his opinion that the animals of
the gravel beds, and the caverns, habitually frequent-
ed the spots where these remains are found, are not
only ingenious, but are occasionally supported by
facts which almost necessarily lead to that conclu-
sion: and it is not intended to attempt to invalidate
them. They do not indeed stand in the way of the


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 141
on that occasion, in the midst of a very general de-
struction of individuals to preserve species, we should
in reason expect, among the organic remains of that
catastrophe, a preponderance, at least, of the remains
of existing species: since, although some species may
have been lost subsequently to the deluge, these na-
turally would be comparatively few. But the fact is
just the reverse; for by far the greater number of
the organic remains of the gravel, as of the caverns,
belong to species not known now to exist. And with
respect to those remains which appear capable of
being identified with living species, Cuvier allows
that they belong to orders of animals, the species of
which often differ only in colour, or in other points
of what may be called their external or superficial
anatomy; and cannot therefore be satisfactorily
identified by the remains of their bones alone.
I do not consider it right to enter into a more ex-
tended examination of the question on the present
occasion: but, could it be proved that visible traces
of the Mosaic deluge must necessarily exist, argu-
ments might be adduced to show both where those
traces ought to be expected, and that they do ac-
tually exist. But the deluge itself was evidently a
miracle, or an interference with the laws which
usually regulate the operation of second causes: and
whoever admits the force of the reasoning, contain-
ed in Butler's Analogy of Natural and Revealed Re-
ligion, will be disposed to allow that the visible evi-
dence of the catastrophe may have been purposely
obscured, in order to exercise our faith in an exclu-
sive belief of the moral evidence.
I would not lay undue weight on the negative
proof arising from the absence of human remains,
although they have been in vain searched for, even
in parts of the world to which it may fairly be pre-
sumed that the human race had penetrated at the
period of the Mosaic deluge; but undoubtedly such
a negative proof is not without considerable weight;
especially when taken in connexion with the theory


142 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
of a continental geologist, M. de Beaumont, of whose
powers of philosophical generalization Professor
Sedgwick speaks in language the most expressive.
“I am using,” he says, “no terms of exaggeration,
when I say that, in reading the admirable researches
of M. de Beaumont, I appeared to myself, page after
page, to be acquiring a new geological sense, and a
new faculty of induction.”
After having taken a general survey of M. de
Beaumont's observations and views, Mr. Sedgwick
alludes to an opinion which he himself had expressed
in the preceding year, that what is commonly called
diluvial gravel is probably not the result of one but
of many successive periods. “But what I then
stated,” he adds, “as a probable opinion, may, after
the essays of M. de Beaumont, be now advanced
with all the authority of established truth—we now
connect the gravel of the plains with the elevation
of the nearest system of mountains; we believe that
the Scandinavian boulders in the north of Germany
are of an older date than the diluvium of the Danube:
and we can prove that the great erratic blocks, de-
rived from the granite of Mont Blanc, are of a more
recent origin than the old gravel in the tributary
valleys of the Rhone. That these statements mili-
tate against opinions, but a few years since held al-
most universally among us, cannot be denied. But,
in retreating when we have advanced too far, there
is neither compromise of dignity, nor loss of strength;
for in doing this, we partake but of the common for-
tune of every one who enters on a field of investiga-
tion like our own. All the noble generalizations of
Cuvier, and all the beautiful discoveries of Buckland,
as far as they are the results of fair induction, will
ever remain unshaken by the progress of discovery.
It is only to theoretical opinions that my remarks
have any application.” Page 33.
* See Professor Sedgwick's Address to the Geological Society,
1831, p. 29.


To THE PHYSICAL CONDITION of MAN. 143
Mr. Sedgwick then proceeds to argue that different
gravel beds having been formed at different periods,
it may happen from the nature of diluvial action,
that mixtures of the materials of different beds may
occur; and consequently that “in the very same de-
posit we may find the remains of animals which
have lived during different epochs in the history of
the earth.” Page 33.
He then shows how, from the double testimony of
the widely existing traces of diluvial action, and the
record of a general deluge contained in the sacred
Scriptures, the opinion was naturally formed that all
those traces were referable to one and the same ac-
tion: though we ought in philosophical caution to
have hesitated in adopting that opinion, because
“among the remnants of a former world, entombed
in these ancient deposits, we have not yet found a
single trace of man, or of the works of his hands.”
Page 34. Lastly, he strenuously denies that the facts
of geological science are opposed to the sacred re-
cords, or to the reality of an historic deluge; and for
himself, utterly rejects such an inference: and argues
justly, that there is an accordance between the ab-
sence of human remains in these diluvial beds of
gravel, and the supposed antiquity of their forma-
tion, inasmuch as the phenomena of geology, and
the testimony of both sacred and profane history,
“tell us in a language easily understood, though writ-
ten in far different characters, that man is a recent
sojourner on the surface of the earth.” Page 35.
SECTION WI.
JMetals.
THE atmosphere, and the vegetable, and animal
kingdoms, being three out of the four general depart-
ments of the external world, are most extensively
necessary to the welfare, if not to the very existence,
of every individual: but even communities of men,
in an uncivilized state indeed, have existed, and in


144 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
some parts of the earth are still existing, without
any further aid from the mineral kingdom than that,
which the common soil affords to the growth of the
food which supports them. But a civilized state of
society is the natural destination of man; and such
a state of society is incapable of arising or being
maintained, without the aid of mineral substances:
and this assertion holds more particularly with re-
spect to the metallic species.
In that department of civilized intercourse which
consists in the exchange of the commodities of life,
what other substance could be an equivalent substi-
tute for gold and silver, or even copper, as a medium
of that exchange? In what constant use, and of what
immense importance, are some of the commonest me-
tals in agriculture, and in the arts; or for the various
purposes of domestic life! Nor have any substances
more successfully exercised the powers of the mind,
in the discovery or improvement of physical truths;
or more largely contributed to the benefit of man-
kind by the practical application of those truths. We
owe it to the researches of philosophy, not only that
new and highly valuable metals have been discover-
ed; but that the general value of the metals pre-
viously known, has been advanced by extended and
improved applications of their inherent properties,
or by the invention of new metallic combinations or
alloys.
If a convincing and familiar proof of the extensive
application of the metals to the common purposes of
life were required, we need only refer to the case of
many a common cottager, who could not carry on
his daily concerns and occupations without the as-
sistance of several of the metals. He could not, for
instance, make his larger purchases, nor pay his
rent, without silver, gold, and copper. Without iron
he could neither dig, nor plough, nor reap; and, with
respect to his habitation, there is scarcely a part of
the structure itself, or of the furniture contained in
it, which is not held together, to a greater or less


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 145
extent, by means of the same metal; and many arti-
cles are either entirely of iron, or of iron partially
and superficially coated with tin. Zinc, and copper,
and antimony, and lead, and tin, are component parts
of his pewter and brazen utensils. Quicksilver is a
main ingredient in the metallic coating of his hum-
ble mirror: cobalt and platina, and metals perhaps
more rare and costly than these, as chrome, are em-
ployed in the glazing of his drinking cups and jugs.
And if he be the possessor of a fowling-piece, which
commonly he would be, arsenic must be added to
the foregoing list, as an ingredient in the shot with
which he charges it; for it is arsenic which enables
the shot, during the process of its granulation, to ac-
quire that delicately spherical form by which it is
characterized. So that the whole number of metals
made use of by society at large for common pur-
poses, amounting to less than twenty, more than half
of these are either directly used by the mere pea-
sant, or enter into the composition of the furniture
and implements-employed by him.
In estimating the value of those mineral substances
which were considered in the preceding chapter, as
applicable to the common purposes of life, their de-
gree of hardness is the property of principal consi-
deration: but, in addition to this, metallic bodies pos-
sess some peculiar properties which very greatly
increase their value. Thus, under a force acting per-
pendicularly on their surface, as under repeated blows
of the hammer, or compression by rollers, many of
them are capable of being expanded to a greater or
less extent; some of them to such an extent as to
become thinner than the thinnest paper; which pro-
perty in its various degrees is expressed by the term
malleability: others, though not possessing any great
degree of malleability, may be drawn-out into a wire,
sometimes so fine as scarcely to be visible by the
naked eye; which property is expressed by the term
ductility. All of them are capable of being expanded
or contracted in every direction by an increase or
N


146 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
decrease of their temperature; the degree of this
expansibility, as of its opposite effect, depending on
the degree of the temperature. And lastly, in con-
nexion with certain points of temperature, all the
metals are capable of existing either in a solid or in
a liquid state; and their property of passing from a
solid to a liquid state, in consequence of the agency
of heat, is called their fusibility.
Into the detail of the different degrees in which
these properties are possessed by different metals, it
belongs to the chemist to enter. What we have at
present to consider is, the advantage accruing to
society from these properties themselves, and from
their existence in that particular degree in which
they actually do exist in the different metals: to
show, for instance, that those metals which possess
malleability in a greater ratio than ductility, or duc-
tility in a greater ratio than malleability, are of infi-
nitely greater value than if the converse were true:
and so with respect to the property of fusibility.
Thus gold, being comparatively scarce, and princi-
pally valuable on account of its colour, its resplen-
dency, and its remarkable power of resisting the
action of the air, and of various agents which readil
tarnish or rust the more common metals, (all ...}.
properties reside on the mere surface,) a given quan-
tity of such a metal is consequently more valuable in
proportion to the degree of its malleability; because
it may be extended over a greater surface: and no
metal possesses this property in so high a degree as
gold; so that, as far as the eye is the judge, the most
ordinary substance may be made to represent the
most costly, at a comparatively trifling expense:
while in the degree of its ductility, which in gold
would be, for general purposes, of little moment, it is
inferior to most of the metals.”
*It should be kept in mind that this observation is applied to
unalloyed or pure gold; for, when alloyed, this metal is capable
of being drawn out into a comparatively fine wire. Dr. Wollas-


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 147
Iron, again, is malleable to a degree which renders
it most valuable as a material for fabricating all kinds
of instruments for mechanical, domestic, or philoso-
phical purposes; and it is capable of being hardened
by well known processes sufficiently for the numerous
and important works of the carpenter and mason, and
the equally important purposes of war, agriculture,
and the arts. A greater degree of malleability, in a
metal employed for such purposes as those for which
iron is usually employed, especially as this metal is
very easily corroded by rust, would clearly have
added nothing to its practical value: while its degree
of ductility, which exceeds that of every other metal,
combined with its capability of being hardened in
various degrees, occasionally confers a value on it
greatly superior to that of gold.
From the difference in the degree of fusibility of
different metals, aided by the disposition which they
have to unite so as to form an alloy, arises the possi-
bility of covering one metal in a solid state with a
superficial coating of another metal in a state of
fusion. I am not aware that this method is employed,
at least to any extent, in any other instances, than in
the application of tin to the surface of copper or of
iron : but, were there an hundred similar instances,
they would not lessen the value of this, as affording
an illustration of that principle which has been borne
in mind throughout this treatise. Consider only the
respective degree of abundance of each of the three
metals just mentioned, and the difference in some of
their qualities with respect to external agents, and
we shall have ample reason for being assured that,
on this as on every other occasion, we may say of
the Creator of material things—“In wisdom hast
Thou made them all.”
ton indeed suggested a method of drawing out even pure gold
into an exceedingly fine wire, by enclosing it in a mass of a highly
ductile metal, drawing out the mixed metal into fine wire, and
disengaging the gold from the metal in which it was enclosed, by
any acid which would dissolve the latter without affecting the
gold itself.


148 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
And not only is it true that
“The world by difference is in order found;”
but the difference is so adjusted in every instance,
that, if it were varied, the value of the substances in
which the difference is observable would be de-
stroyed. Thus, of the three metals now under con-
sideration, iron and copper, from the degree of their
malleability, are easily formed into those various
vessels which are of daily use for culinary and other
purposes; while tin possesses the property of mallea-
bility in comparatively a slight degree: and, corres-
pondently with the extent of their use, iron and cop-
per are found in great abundance and in almost
every part of the world; while tin is of very rare
occurrence. Again, the two former metals are easily
rusted; and, from the poisonous quality of the rust of
copper, fatal effects on human health and life would
be frequently occurring, used so extensively as that
metal is for the construction of vessels in which our
food is prepared, were it not defended by that super-
ficial coating of tin, which is commonly applied to
the inner surface of such vessels; tin being neither
easily rusted, nor capable of communicating any
poisonous quality to substances brought into contact
with it. Let us then suppose that the respective
degree of malleability, or of fusibility, were reversed
in these metals; and observe the inconvenience that
would ensue. Let the tin have that degree of mallea-
bility, for instance, which would render it capable of
supplying the place of the iron, or the copper, in the
construction of various economical vessels and in-
struments; yet, from the small quantity in which it
occurs in the world, the supply of it would soon be
either exhausted, or its price would be so enhanced
that it could not be purchased except by the rich.
And, even if the supply were inexhaustible, yet, from
the softness of the metal, the vessels made of it would
be comparatively of little use; and from the low
temperature at which it melts, it could not be readily


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 149
used for the generality of those purposes to which
copper and iron are commonly applied. On the other
hand, let the copper or the iron be as fusible as tin;
and let the tin be as refractory under the action of
heat as iron and copper are: in that case, how could
the tin be applied with any degree of economy to the
surface of either of the other two; while they them-
selves would be unfit, from their easy fusibility, to
withstand that degree of heat to which they are
necessarily exposed in many of the economical uses
to which they are applied ?
There remains to be considered one property of
metals with respect to their fusibility, which is of the
highest practical importance; for on this property
depends the possibility of uniting together portions
of the same, or of * metals, without fusion of
the metals themselves. If two metals be melted into
one uniform mass, the compound is called an alloy;
and in the greater number of instances, if not in all,
the alloy is more readily fusible than either of the
component metals: and hence it easily becomes a
bond of union between the two metals, or different
portions of either of them. Such an alloy, when so
employed, is called a solder. In considering the pre-
sent subject, we cannot overlook a remarkable ana-
logy between metallic substances and building stones,
with reference to one mode in which they may re-
spectively be united to each other, so as to form one
solid mass; mortar being to stones what solder is to
metals. Thus, in uniting two metallic surfaces by
means of solder, it is requisite that the latter should
be in a fluid state, or melted; and, in uniting the sur-
faces of two bricks or stones by means of mortar,
the latter must be, if not in absolutely a fluid, yet in
a soft and yielding state: and the final hardening of
each is the efficient cause of permanent union. The
period indeed requisite for the due consolidation of
the uniting medium is very different; the solder be-
coming fixed in a few seconds, the mortar requiring
some hours, perhaps days, for its consolidation: but,
N 2


150 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
in the end proposed, there is no essential difference;
for the mortar, if originally tempered well, and well
applied, as firmly unites the stones, as solder the
metals: so that mortar might be called a slowly
acting solder; and solder, an extemporaneous or
quickly acting mortar.
It would appear a paradox, if not an absurdity, to
affirm abruptly that a liability to rapid decay is
among the most important properties of any sub-
stance in general use: and yet this may be truly
affirmed of iron. For though, in one sense, its liability
to rust diminishes the value of this useful metal,
because it is consequently almost impossible to pre-
serve it very long in an entire state; yet, indirectly,
this property, though detrimental to individuals, is
beneficial to the community: for, in the first place,
the presence of iron ore is so general, and its quantity
so abundant, that there is no probability of any
failure in its supply: and, in the next place, numerous
branches of trade are kept in continued employ, both
in working the ore, and in meeting the constantly
renewed demand for implements made of iron, owing
to the rapid corrosion of this metal.
Among the metals there is one, the history of
which ought not to be overlooked on the present oc-
casion, from the very circumstance that its value in
a great measure depends on the absence of most of
those properties which render all other metals valu-
able. Quicksilver is the metal in question: and what
an anomaly does it not present in the general history
of metals; existing, under all common variations of
temperature, in a fluid state, while all other metals,
with which we are familiar, are, under the same
variations, solid; nor indeed are they capable of be-
coming fluid, but by an elevation of temperature to
which they are hardly liable to be exposed, unless
designedly: lastly, in consequence of its fluidity,
destitute of malleability and ductility; which are
among the most valuable properties of the metals
taken collectively. This state of fluidity, however,


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 151
is the very point on which the value of this metal in
a great measure turns: for hence it is successfully
employed for many purposes, to which, were it solid,
it would be inapplicable. How valuable is its use in
the construction of the common thermometer and
barometer; the value, in the case of the former in-
strument, depending entirely on its fluidity, and on
the physical characters of the fluid itself—the equable
ratio, for instance, of its contraction and expansion
under widely varying degrees of temperature; and
its property of remaining fluid through a greater
range of temperature than any other known sub-
stance.* And, in the case of the barometer, what
fluid is there which could supply the place of quick-
silver, with any degree of convenience 1 since, from
the great specific gravity of this metal, a column of
the perpendicular height of about thirty inches, suffi-
ciently answers the intended purpose; which column
in the case of almost every other fluid, would amount
to as many feet. And as, in such a case, the column
must necessarily be contained in a glass tube, in
order to make the alterations in its height visible,
how would it be possible to render such an instru-
ment portable 7 and yet, if not portable, it would
often be of no use when most wanted.
In those numerous philosophical experiments in
which it is requisite to insulate portions of various
gaseous substances, for the purpose of examining
their properties, how could the experimentalist pro-
ceed without the use of the metal now under consi-
deration; which by its fluidity readily yields its place
to the various kinds of gas which are to be trans-
ferred to vessels previously filled with the quicksilver;
and, having no chemical affinity for the greater
* Quicksilver does not become solid till exposed to a tempera-
ture about seventy degrees below the freezing point in the scale
of Fahrenheit; nor does it pass rapidly into a state of vapour till
exposed to a temperature equal to nearly three hundred and
seventy degrees above the boiling point of water, on the same
scale.


152 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
number of gaseous substances, is calculated to retain
them in an insulated and unaltered state for an in-
definite length of time? nor let us forget to observe,
how the properties of the metal, which is necessarily
in contact with the gaseous substances in question,
conspire with the properties of the glass vessels con-
taining those gaseous substances, to facilitate the
observations of the philosopher: for, if the glass were
not both a transparent body, and equally devoid as
the quicksilver of any chemical affinity for the gas
contained in it, the metal itself would be of little use
for the purpose intended: since we are not acquainted
with any other substance that could supply the place
of glass—with the exception perhaps of rock crystal;
which however could only be procured in small
quantity any where, and could not be worked into a
convenient form but at a most enormous expense.
SECTION VII.
Common Salt, &c.
It does not appear that the mineral kingdom con-
tains a single species capable of being employed as
food: but there is one mineral species, which indi-
rectly contributes to the nourishment of many other
animals as well as man; and that is common salt:
the flavour of which, to a certain extent, is not only
grateful to the palate, but, practically speaking, man-
kind could not exist, or at least never have existed,
without the constant use of it. Thus, though em-
ployed in very small quantities at a time by any in-
dividual, and almost exclusively for the purpose
either of preserving or rendering his food more
palatable, this substance may fairly be classed among
the principal necessaries of life: and, correspondent-
ly with this statement, we find that nature has sup-
plied it in abundance, indeed in profusion often, in
various parts of the globe: for, to say nothing of
those apparently inexhaustible masses which occur


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 155
inhaling its sweetness; or in catching the breeze that
has passed over the blossom of the bean or of the
woodbine, does not again enjoy the very delights of
his early childhood 7
It may be said indeed that the pleasure of such
recollections is for the most part of a moral and in-
tellectual nature; and, so far, is foreign to our pre-
sent object; but the pleasure of the original enjoy-
ment appears to be principally of a physical charac-
ter; and is no doubt intended to produce, at the
moment, a highly beneficial, though merely physical
effect: for while the eye of the child is attracted by
the unexpected forms and colours of the plants and
flowers presented to his view, and his mind is insti-
gated to gratify the eager desire of possessing them,
he necessarily subjects his limbs to that degree of
exercise and fatigue, which contributes to the gene-
ral health of his body. Nor let such pleasures be un-
dervalued in their consequence: they give that mode-
rate stimulus to the whole system, which even the
early age of infancy requires; and, by shutting out
the listlessness that would arise from inactivity,
they become eventually the source of moral and in-
tellectual improvement. -
With reference to the primary wants of mankind
at large, the vegetable kingdom is of the highest im-
portance. Let the earth cease to produce its accus-
tomed fruits, and every form of animal life must be
soon annihilated: for all animals either derive their
nourishment directly from vegetable food, or feed on
those animals which have themselves fed on vegeta-
bles. And, without the aid of the same productions,
we should be deprived of various substances which
are now employed for clothing, and fuel, and the
construction of our habitations. But the adaptation
of the vegetable kingdom to the arts and conveniences
of life is visible in numerous other instances: and the
principal difficulty, in illustrating this point, is the
selection of appropriate examples, and the order of
their arrangement.


156 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
SECTION II.
The Cocoa-nut Tree, including the formation of Coral
Reefs.
For the purpose of introducing in a more particu-
lar manner the general subject of this chapter, and
as an impressive example of the important ends
which nature often accomplishes by the simplest
means, I propose to consider the mode in which the
cocoa-nut tree is spontaneously propagated in the
coral islands of the Indian Archipelago and else-
where: nor will it be an undue anticipation of a sub-
sequent department of this treatise, if I previously
give a brief description of the process by which those
islands have themselves been brought into existence.
The account of their origin indeed belongs more
strictly to the history of the animal than of the vege-
table world; but the two subjects are so naturally
connected, that it would be injudicious to separate
them.
It may be collected from the observations of the
French navigator, M. Péron, (Ann. du Mus. tom. vi.
p. 30, &c.) that almost all those countless islands of
the Pacific Ocean, which are found to the south of
the equator between New Holland and the western
coast of America, are either entirely or in part made
up of coral: and all the adjacent ocean abounds with
coral reefs, which, constantly augmenting, are con-
stantly changing the state of bays, and ports, and
gulfs; so that new charts are continually required
for the same coasts. From Barrow also it appears,
(Barrow's Cochin China, p. 167,) that the formation
of coral reefs or isles is very common in the tropical
parts of the Eastern and Pacific Ocean. And Cap-
tain Flinders says that the quantity of coral reefs
between New Holland and New Caledonia and New
Guinea, is such, that this might be called the Coral-
lian Sea. (Flinders's Voyage, vol. ii. p. 314.)


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 157
Many more references might be made, to others
as well as the above mentioned voyagers, in order
to show that the formation of coral islands is effected
by nature on a very extensive scale: but, for the
present purpose, the preceding references may be
considered sufficient. Let us now therefore describe
the general character and mode of formation of
these islands.
Forster says” that the low islands of tropical seas
are commonly “narrow, low ledges of coral rock,
including in the middle a kind of lagoon; and having
here and there little sandy spots, somewhat elevated
above the level of high water, on which cocoa-
nuts thrive:” correspondent with which description
is the account given by Captain Cook, on the occa-
sion of discovering one of these coral reefs; which
was at first mistaken by him for land. “This proved
to be,” he says, “another of those low or half-drown-
ed islands, or rather a large coral shoal, of about
twenty leagues in circuit. A very small part of it
was land, which consisted of little islets ranged along
the north side, and connected by sand banks and
breakers. These islets were clothed with wood,
among which the cocoa-nut trees were only distin-
guishable. We ranged the south side of this shoal
at the distance of one or two miles from the coral
bank, against which the sea broke in a dreadful surf.
In the middle of the shoal was a large lake, or inland
sea, in which was a canoe under sail.” (Cook's
Voyage, 4to. 1777. vol. i. p. 141, 142.)
Coral, considered as an individual substance, is a
natural form of carbonate of lime, produced by an
animal of the polype kind. The particles of carbon-
ate of lime, however produced, are cemented to-
gether so firmly by a glutinous secretion of the same
animal, as to acquire a degree of consistence, which
not only forms a safe habitation for a race of ani-
malcules, from their soft texture most obnoxious to
* Forster's Voyage round the World, p. 14, 15.
O


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 159
live, their structures adhere to each other by virtue
either of the glutinous remains within, or of some
property in salt water; and the interstices being
gradually filled up with sand and broken pieces of
coral washed by the sea, which also adhere, a mass
of rock is at length formed. Future races of these
animalcules erect their habitations upon the rising
bank, and die in their turn; to increase, but princi-
pally to elevate, this monument of their wonderful
labours. The care taken to work perpendicularly, in
the early stages, would mark a surprising instinct in
these diminutive creatures. Their wall of coral, for
the most part in situations where the winds are con-
stant, being arrived at the surface, affords a shelter;
to leeward of which their infant colonies may be
safely sent forth: and to this, their instinctive fore-
sight, it seems to be owing, that the windward side
of a reef, exposed to the open sea, is generally, if not
always, the highest part; rising almost perpendicu-
larly, sometimes from the depth of two hundred and
perhaps many more fathoms. To be constantly
covered with water seems necessary to the existence
of the animalcules; for they do not work, except in
holes upon the reef, beyond low water mark: but
the coral sand, and other broken remnants thrown
up by the sea, adhere to the rock, and form a solid
mass with it, as high as the common tides reach.
That elevation surpassed, the future remnants, being
rarely covered, lose their adhesive property; and,
remaining in a loose state, form what is usually call-
ed a key upon the top of the reef. The new bank is
not long in being visited by sea birds; salt plants
take root upon it, and a soil begins to be formed; a
cocoa-nut, or the drupe of a pandanus, is thrown on
shore; land birds visit it, and deposit the seeds of
shrubs and trees; every high tide, and still more,
every gale, adds something to the bank; the form of
an island is gradually assumed; and, last of all,
comes man to take possession.”
* Flinders's Voyage, vol. ii. p. 115, 116.


160 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
In the base of a coral island of the above descrip-
tion, captain Flinders distinguished not only the sand,
coral, and shells, formerly thrown up, in a more or
less perfect state of cohesion; but also small pieces of
wood, pumice stone, and other extraneous bodies,
which chance had mixed with the calcareous sub-
stances when the cohesion began, and which in some
cases were still separable from the rock without
much force.* Such sand banks are found in different
stages of progress; some being overflowed with every
returning tide; some raised above high water mark,
but destitute of vegetation; some, lastly, habitable
and abounding in trees.
Let us here pause for a moment to contemplate
the wonderful effect produced by apparently the most
inadequate means. And wonderful indeed is the
effect, even if the process above described were now
to cease for ever; but much more, if we look to its
probable extension: for, reasoning on what has
already been accomplished, and on what is at this
moment rapidly advancing, it is evidently probable
that a new habitable surface of land may be eventu-
ally produced, equal in extent to the whole of Eu-
rope, and produced by the agency of a tribe of ani-
mals, which occupy very nearly the lowest steps in
the scale of animal creation, and which in every
other respect are the most inefficient and helpless of
creatures. For, fixed as they are, both individually
and collectively, to a completely local habitation; or,
rather, buried as it were in a strong mass of coral,
and literally
“Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,”
their general appearance and mode of growth so
little resemble the animal character, that, for a long
time, many of the species were considered as of ve-
getable origin; and are, even now, very commonly
called zoophytes, or animated plants.
* Flinders's Voyage, vol. ii. p. 116.


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 161
Nor let us fail to observe, in the foregoing account,
the physical fitness for each other of two very differ-
ent departments of nature. The same geographical
climate which gives birth to those animals, whose,
labours produce this previously unexpected habitable
surface, gives birth also to those vegetables, which,
at the same time that they are capable of growing
on so loose and poor a soil, are capable besides of
supplying its future inhabitants not only with nutri-
tious food, both in a liquid and a solid form, but with
materials for constructing their habitations, and for
many other useful purposes. And in the mean time
the fowls of the air, and the very winds and waves,
are all employed in administering to the beneficent
intentions of Providence. Of little use would be a
new habitable surface, were it never to be tenanted
by human beings; and in vain would man attempt to
colonize that surface, were it barren of vegetable
productions: but the seeds of various plants, as we
have seen in the foregoing descriptions, are either
brought by birds, or drifted by the wind and waves,
to a soil calculated to support them.
Among the vegetable productions of coral islands,
the cocoa-nut tree stands pre-eminent in value; con-
taining in itself nearly all those important properties,
which are found at large in that natural family of
plants, the palms: and valuable indeed are those pro-
perties, if we may rely on the accounts which have
been given of them by different authors; and of the
truth of those accounts there is no sufficient reason
to doubt. Johnston,” speaking of the abundance of
the cocoa-nut tree in India, where he says it occurs
to a greater extent than the olive in Spain, or the
willow in Holland, affirms that there is no part of the
tree which is not applied to some useful purpose. Not
only the cabins of the poorer natives, but large
houses, are constructed entirely with materials
afforded by this tree; the trunk, when split, supply-
* Johnstonus de Arboribus, p. 146, &c.
O 2


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 163
mentioned, it is said that in 1813 the number of cocoa
trees cultivated in Ceylon, along a line of coast
of about 184 miles, was ten millions, and that that
number was increased in following years; that this
tree is fruitful from its eighth to its sixty-fourth year,
and sometimes bears from eighty to one hundred
nuts annually; that elephants are fed on cocoa-nut
leaves; and that the ashes of the tree contain so
great a proportion of potash, that the native washer-
men of Ceylon use them instead of soap.”
In the Nouv. Dict. d’Hist. Nat. tom. vii. p. 297,
&c. it is stated, that, as in other palms, if the extre-
mity of the sheath from whence the flowers of the
cocoa arise be cut off while young, a white sweet
liquor distils from it, which is used extensively as a
beverage in India under the name of palm wine;
that this liquor, if concentrated by boiling, deposits a
sugar; that if exposed to the air it acquires vinous
properties at the end of twelve hours, and at the end
of twenty-four hours becomes vinegar; that an oil
may be obtained from the nut, M. is not inferior
to sweet almond oil, and which is used almost exclu-
sively in India; and that the shell is formed into cups
and various other small articles.
Almost all that has been said of the cocoa tree
might be repeated of the date tree, making an allow-
ance for the specific differences of the two: and with
respect to the palms in general, Humboldt says it
would not be easy to enumerate the various advan-
tages derived from them. “They afford wine, vine-
gar, oil, farinaceous food, and sugar; timber also,
and ropes, and mats, and paper; and,” he adds, that
“no trees are so abundant in fruit, even without the
aid of cultivation; and that the Franciscan monks,
who live in the vicinity of palm plantations, near the
banks of the Orinoco, observe that the native Indians
give evidence of a fruitful palm year, by the corre-
* Wern. Mem. vol. v. p. 110–127.


IG4 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
sponding improvement in their health and appear-
ance.”*
I shall conclude this part of the subject with a
translation from the Flora Atlantica of Desfontaines,
for the introduction of which no apology, I trust, is
necessary. In describing the natural scenery of
groves of palm, the author concludes with the fol-
lowing beautiful passage. “These palm groves, being
impervious to the sun's rays, afford a hospitable
shade, both to man and other animals, in a region
which would otherwise be intolerable from the heat.
And under this natural shelter, the orange, the lemon,
the pomegranate, the olive, the almond, and the vine
grow in wild luxuriance; producing, notwithstanding
they are so shaded, the most delicious fruit. And
here, while the eyes are fed with the endless variety
of flowers which deck these sylvan scenes, the ears
are at the same time ravished with the melodious
notes of numerous birds, which are attracted to these
groves by the shade, and the cool springs, and the
food which they there find.”f
SECTION III.
Vegetables as a Source of Food.
IT appears from various statements of authority,
that the species of vegetables already known amount
to about sixty thousand:I though there is reason to
believe the actual number is above a hundred thou-
* Humboldt, Distrib. Géogr. Plant. p. 216—240.
# “Palmeta radiis solis impervia, umbram in regione calidis-
sima hospitalem incolis, viatoribus, aeque ac animantibus mini-
strant. Eorum denso sub tegmine, absºlue ordine crescunt
aurantia, limones, punica, oleae, amygdali, vites, quae cursu
geniculato Saºpe truncos palmarum scandunt. Hae omnes fructus
suavissimos, licet obumbratae, ferunt; ibique mira florum et
fructuum varietate pascuntur oculi; simulque festivis avium
cantilenis, quas umbra, aqua, victus alliciunt, recreantur aures.”
Desfontaines, Flora Atlantica, tom. ii. Append. p. 439.
f Conversations on Vegetable Physiology, vol. ii. p. 108.


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 165
sand:* and, from the general analogy of nature, we
may fairly conclude that no species exists without its
use in the economy of the earth. Of many indeed
we witness the direct use, either for the various pur-
poses of civilized society, or for the sustenance of
animal life: but for the present let us confine our
attention to the latter point in their history; and,
although whatever is adapted to the sustenance of
animal life in general, is indirectly adapted in a great
measure to the actual condition of man, and would
therefore justly come within the scope of this trea-
tise; yet, that we may not extend the subject too far,
let us consider those species only which constitute
the direct food of man; subject indeed frequently to
such culinary preparations as make our food not
only more palatable, but also more nutritious.
Among the numerous species of vegetables which
supply food to man, by far the greater proportion
consists of those which may be considered upon the
whole as mere luxuries; or at most, as affording an
agreeable and sometimes useful variety. Of those
species which afford that kind of nutritive matter
which is contained in what has been emphatically
called the staff of life, or bread, the number is very
small; leguminous plants, and wheat, and rice, the
fruit and pith and other parts of some of the palms
and bananas, and such farinaceous roots as the po-
tato, &c. comprising nearly the whole amount.
It would be unnecessary to point out more parti-
cularly the importance of some of the foregoing
species, to any one at all conversant with the general
mode of life of Europeans as to food: and a slight
acquaintance with the history of the world is suffi-
cient to show us, that, what wheat and the potato
are to Europe, rice is to a considerable portion of
Asia, Africa, and America; and the products of the
date and cocoa, palms, &c. to the inter-tropical
countries of the whole earth. But there are some
* Decandolle, Théorie Elém. de la Botanique, 8vo. 1819, p. 25.


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 169
sisting of eight closely printed quarto_pages, which
appears to have been furnished by Dr. Rush of Penn-
sylvania University, is well worth the perusal.”
If we consider the subordinate wants of the animal
economy, we must in reason allow that those suc-
culent fruits and vegetables, which are abundantly
produced in almost all parts of the world, are de-
stined by Providence for an important end with
reference to the food of man. The very form and
arrangement of our teeth, and the structure of our
stomach, show, that our system is naturally adapted
to a mixed food: and although those of our teeth,
which resemble the corresponding teeth of carnivo-
rous animals, are so little developed as to make it in
that respect doubtful whether nature intended us to
live on flesh; yet our stomach, and the rest of our
apparatus of digestion, aided moreover by culinary
preparation, certainly approximate us fully as much
to the carnivorous as to the herbivorous classes. It
is obvious, moreover, that we have an ample array
of teeth for cutting and grinding vegetable matter.
This then being the case, we might antecedently ex-
pect that our natural taste would lead us to enjoy
the flavour of vegetable, as well as animal food; and
that nature would supply us with a variety of the
one as well as of the other; for variety itself is
salutary.
And on this as on every occasion, we have an
opportunity of seeing how Providence not only meets
all the wants of mankind, but meets them in such a
way as their local situation requires. Thus wheat,
which contains a more strengthening principle of
nutrition than the product of the palms and arrow-
root, and is therefore better calculated to support the
hardier efforts of the inhabitants of temperate or
cold climates, will not grow readily in inter-tropical
*The tree commonly called the sycamore, which is really a
species of maple, yields a sweet sap which has occasionally been
used to supply the place of malt in brewing.
Sylva, 3d ed. by A. Hunter, York, 1801, vol. i. p. 200.
P


170 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
climates;* and, reciprocally, the palms and cognate
plants of inter-tropical regions cease to be productive,
if cultivated much beyond the tropics.f And the
orange, the lemon, the water-melon, the grape, and
the fig, which are easily cultivated in warm climates, I
by the abundance of their juice, are enabled both to
allay the sensation of present heat and thirst, and to
repair the loss of that natural moisture of the body,
which is continually passing from it in the form of
either sensible or insensible perspiration. Even in
the temperate climate of our own island, how many
days are there, during the summer, in which such
fruits are most refreshing: and to gratify the desire
of that refreshment we import such species as are
capable of bearing a long voyage; among which
the orange is a very principal article of import: nor
would it be easy to calculate the myriads of that
fruit which are annually consumed in this country.
But the cognate fruit, the lemon, at the same time
that, on account of the grateful and aromatic flavour
of its juice, it is occasionally as eagerly sought as the
orange, serves a still higher purpose: for the acid
contained in it has been successfully employed, as
an antidote and a remedy for one of the most dreadful
diseases to which mariners are subject. Sea scurvy
in fact has all but disappeared since the general
adoption of this remedy."
* Desfontaines, Flora Atlantica, tom. ii. Appendix, p. 438.
# Wern. Mem. vol. v. p. 112.
f An interesting fact is related in the “Conversations on Ve-
getable Physiology” respecting an artificial mode of ripening the
fig, “In hot climates the fig-tree produces two crops of fruit:
and the peasants in the isles of the Archipelago, where the fig-
tree abounds, bring branches of wild fig-trees in the spring,
which they spread over those that are cultivated. These wild
branches serve as a vehicle to a prodigious number of small in-
sects of the genus called cynips, which perforate the figs in order
to make a nest for their eggs; and the wound they inflict acce-
lerates the ripening of the fruit nearly three weeks; thus leavi
time for the second crop to come to maturity in due season.
(Vol. ii. p. 41,42)
§ It is probable that fresh vegetables of any kind are sufficient


172 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
that disease; paroxysms of dreadful rigour or
shivering; nausea; intense headach, with delirium;
paralytic affections of the limbs; and burning heat
of the whole body, terminating in profuse perspira-
tion: and whoever has witnessed such symptoms,
recurring in the same individual at stated intervals,
has probably seen their return at once arrested by a
few doses of Peruvian bark, in the state of powder;
the effect of which remedy, in subduing a violent
disease, compared with the small quantity of it em-
ployed for that purpose, has been not inelegantly
though playfully illustrated by that passage of the
Georgics, in which the husbandman is taught to allay
the occasional contests and agitations of the bees, by
scattering a handful of dust among them.
“Hi motus—atgue hac certamina tanta
Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quiescent.”
And, if the vegetable kingdom had failed to afford
any other medicinal substance than this, mankind
would still have had ample cause for thankfulness.
But, even in the instances of those remedies from
which nothing beyond a present or temporary allevi-
ation is expected, the benefit usually accruing cannot
easily be estimated at too high a rate; and one re-
medy there is, of this nature, for which mankind is
indebted to the vegetable kingdom exclusively. How
often has not opium lulled the most excruciating ago-
nies of pain? how often has it not restored the balm
of sleep to the almost exhausted body; or quieted
those nervous agitations of the whole system, the
terrors of which none perhaps can duly appreciate
but those who have experienced them 7. There are
however diseased or unnatural states of the body, in
which no direct remedy can be applied, and all
soothing means would not only be ineffectual, but
fatal: in such states those substances, which are
directly opposed in quality to opium, and irritate
instead of soothing the surfaces to which they are
applied, are valuable precisely on that account: they


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 173
rouse the system, for instance, from a state of
lethargy, which otherwise would probably terminate
in death; or they stimulate the stomach to reject any
substance of a poisonous nature, which may have
been either intentionally or accidentally introduced
into it, and they thus contribute to the preservation
of life. Remedies of this character, though not ex-
clusively belonging to the vegetable kingdom, are
frequently afforded by it.
But, in enumerating the medicinal auxiliaries which
mankind derive from the vegetable kingdom, let me
not omit the restorative virtue of that gift of Heaven,
which, though by its abuse it may intoxicate the
mental faculties and undermine the general health of
the body, is calculated most assuredly, when rightly
used, not only to revive the drooping energies, but
to rekindle the almost expiring spark of life. Survey
the wretched subject of what is called typhus, while
oppressed by those symptoms which justify the use
of this restorative; when the glazed eye and squalid
skin, the feeble circulation and muttering delirium,
announce the near approach of death, unless the
proper medicine be interposed; and then watch the
beneficial effect of this divine remedy. They who
have witnessed the progress of typhus fever in some
of its forms, and in individuals who have lived in
crowded and ill ventilated habitations, will acknow-
ledge that in very many instances wine alone has,
humanly speaking, rescued the patient from the
grave.
Nor will it be irrelevant to the general subject of
this treatise to consider the natural origin of wine:
by which I mean, not the mode or time of its disco-
very; either of which it would be as useless as vain
to attempt to investigate, since this liquid was in
common use at a period long antecedent to history:
but by its natural origin I mean the circumstances
under which it is usually produced. There is a law
in nature, by which organized bodies, vegetables as
well as animals, are disposed to undergo spontaneous
P 2


174 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
decomposition very soon after they have ceased to
live; the ultimate result of which is, a resolution into
their elementary principles; in other words, they
putrefy and perish. But even in this state, in which
they are deprived of all their former properties, they
administer to the good of man; and, under the name
of manure, are known as the principal means of fer-
tilizing the ground; from whence all his food is ulti-
mately obtained. The circumstances, however, which
accompany this change in vegetables, differ very
much from those which attend the corresponding
change in animals; and may be well illustrated by a
reference to the process of making any common
WIne.
If a sufficient quantity of the juice of ripe grapes,
or of any other saccharine fluid, be exposed to a
moderately warm temperature, an internal move-
ment of its particles soon begins to take place; which
is technically called fermentation: and during the
period when this is going on, the sugar of the liquor
is, in part, converted into wine. If the fermentation
be now arrested by the proper means, the whole
mass of the liquid may be preserved in nearly the
same state for a longer or shorter period, in propor-
tion to the quantity of wine contained in it: but if,
after the vinous fermentation, as it is called, has been
completed, the temperature be to a certain degree
increased, the wine is converted into vinegar by a
continuance of the process of fermentation: and, ulti-
mately, the acid taste and odour of the vinegar are
lost; and the whole mass of the liquor becomes first
vapid, and then putrid.
That such a process as putrefaction should take
place in organized bodies after their death, might in
reasoning be antecedently expected; for the purpose
of ...; to the growth of their successive
generations in the case of vegetables;* and to pre-
* “Haudigitur penitus pereunt quaecunque videntur:
Quando alid ex alio reficit Natura, nec ullum
Rem gigni patitur, nisi morte adjutam aliena.”
Lucket. i. 26.3—5.


176 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
SECTION W.
Vegetables as applicable to the Arts, &c.
In considering the application of natural sub-
stances to the various purposes of life, it is often
interesting to compare the simplicity of the original
contrivance with the complicated manipulations of
the process by which, at the present day, a material,
destined for a specific use, is brought into a fit state
for that use. Let fine writing-paper be taken as an
instance; and let us compare the history of a piece
of such paper with that of the simple material on
which many Oriental manuscripts are written—the
mere leaf of a tree, probably some species of palm,
—which after having been cut into the requisite size
and form, seems to have undergone no other prepara-
tion than simple pressure; partly with the view of
forcing out its natural moisture, and partly of smooth-
ing its surface. How different the history of the
paper that is daily fabricated in any of the large ma-
nufactories of this country; and how little would its
origin and numerous changes of state be conjectured
from its present appearance Heaps of linen rags
of every colour, when indeed that colour can be dis-
tinguished through the dirt which adheres to them,
are brought from almost every quarter of Europe;
each rag having probably been part of some article
of dress, which, as it grew viler by use, passed from
a more to a less respectable possessor; till it at length
became the tattered and threadbare covering of the
poorest mendicant. -
From such a material is the finest paper made:
and, in the commencement of the process, each indi-
vidual rag undergoes an examination with respect
to its size, and is cut into two or more pieces ac-
cording to that size. Separate heaps are then me-
chanically shaken together, and sifted, in order to
clear them from adhering dust: they are subsequently


178 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
the circumstance. Thus the quantity of indigo, ac-
cumulated in the extensive repositories of the East
India company, is frequently so great as to make the
occasional observer wonder that it should ever find
a market: and the following statement will show
how important this single substance is as an article
of commerce. During the last five years, the quan-
tity of indigo imported into London amounts to at
least one hundred and twenty thousand chests; the
average weight of the contents of each chest equal-
ling two hundred and seventypounds, and the average
price of each pound being five shillings. The esti-
mated value therefore of the indigo contained in the
one hundred and twenty thousand chests would be
rather more than eight millions sterling.
If I am correct in supposing that blue, red, and
wellow, are the colours most abundantly supplied by
vegetables, it cannot fail to strike a mind of the least
reflection, that these are precisely the elementary
colours which a dyer would have antecedently se-
lected, in order to be enabled to practise his art to
the greatest advantage; since from these three, all
other colours or tints may be obtained. And with
respect to black, which must practically be consi-
dered as a distinct colour, though not admitted as
such theoretically, it is worthy of observation, that,
although scarcely any vegetable substance yields it
directly; yet, by the intervention of almost any form
of iron, and this metal is in some shape or other pre-
sent every where, it may readily be produced from a
very numerous class of vegetable substances. In
almost every instance where a vegetable substance
has an austere and bitter taste, it will with iron give
a dye of a black colour. Thus the bark of the oak,
and of many other trees, and that vegetable excres-
cence called the gall-nut, produce an ink by the ad-
dition of any saline form of iron.
From the earliest and least civilized times, and
through every intermediate stage of society to the
Present period of refinement, the productions of the


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 179
vegetable world have been in constant request for
the most common purposes of life. The simplest
dwellings, not only of the uninstructed savage, but
of the peasantry of many parts of modern Europe,
are constructed almost entirely of wood; the simplest
implements of husbandry, the plough, the spade, and
the hoe, could hardly be employed without the aid
of a wooden frame-work or handle: and the same
observation holds good with reference to the tools of
the most necessary arts of life. How great would
be the inconvenience, and how increased would be
the labour of the carpenter, or the smith, or the
mason, if, instead of wood, the handles of his imple-
ments were of iron 1 Nor are substances of vegetable
origin of less importance, or less generally employed,
in many of the higher arts of life. Examine the
structure of a man of war—its hulk, of oak; its masts,
of fir; its sails and ropes, of flax; its calking, of
tow and of tar. All is of vegetable origin from the
top-mast head to the keel j. With the exception
indeed of the iron which is occasionally used in the
construction, no metallic substance is necessarily
employed; for the copper sheathing, though highly
useful, is certainly not necessary.
It would require volumes to describe all the eco-
nomical uses to which vegetables are applied. How
many important trades arise from this source. How
many families, now existing in opulence, originally
derived their surnames from their occupation, and
that occupation connected with vegetable materials;
for instance, Cooper, Carpenter, Dyer, Tanner,
Turner, Wheeler, Weaver, Barker, Hayward, Gar-
dener, Cartwright, Miller, Fletcher, Bowyer
And then, to answer the various purposes to which
they are to be applied, how widely do the qualities
of different vegetable productions differ from each
other! How well the rigid fibre and compact texture
of the oak enable the bulky vessel to resist the buffet-
ing of the waves | The ash, the beech, the fir, the
yew, each has those appropriate qualities which make


180 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
it individually preferable to the rest. The flexibility
of the hemp and flax renders them capable of being
woven and formed into sails and cordage; and, ex-
posed as the sails and rigging are to the vicissitudes
of the weather, how well are they protected by being
covered over with tar, itself of vegetable origin
Some woods very readily split with that regularity
of surface which we observe in common laths; and
of the utility of that kind of material in almost every
kind of building no one can well be ignorant. Other
woods, as the willow, very readily bend, with a con-
siderable degree of elasticity, in every direction;
and hence are of value in the fabrication of what is
known under the general name of wicker-work.”
In this department, again, though not to the same
extent as in the case of some of the metals, is seen
the effect of human labour in advancing the value of
the original material. Compare, for instance, the
mercantile value of a piece of fine lace with the ori-
ginal value of the material of which it is made.
There are many plants, which, though they neither
produce fruit of any value nor are capable of being
applied to any of the common purposes of the arts,
are yet of the highest value as a natural defence to
cultivated lands against the incursions of cattle; and
sometimes even against the attacks of disciplined
troops.
The quickset of our common hedges is an instance
of the former application; and of its utility in this
country no one can doubt, unless he happen to live
exclusively in those districts, as in certain parts of
*The art of making wicker-work is often successfully culti-
vated at a very early period of civilization. Thus, in the neigh-
bourhood of California, some of Captain Beechey's officers were
supplied with “water brought to them in baskets, which the
Indians weave so close, that, when wet, they become excellent
substitutes for bowls.” (Beechey's Voyage, p. 385.) And we
know that, not long after the conquest of Britain by Caesar, the
Sºnamental wicker-work of the natives was highly prized at
me.


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 181
the Cotswold and similar ranges of hills, where stone
supplies a more ready material for a fence. Of the
extent of its application, it would not be easy to make
a correct estimate; but, when we consider how many
public roads, and how many private enclosures are
bounded by a fence of quickset, it becomes probable
that the linear extent of hedges of this kind is, in
England alone, equal to many times the circumfe-
rence of the whole earth. In describing one of the
most important fortresses in the Deccan, captain
Seely, in his account of the temples of Ellora, states
that the town, which stands about one thousand and
twenty yards from the fort, is surrounded by a hedge
of prickly pear, nearly eighteen feet high, and thick
in proportion. This natural defence around the
towns and villages on the western side of India is
very common; and it offers to a predatory body of
horse or foot a formidable barrier: for the sharp and
long thorns, which project from the stem and leaf,
not only act as an immediate defence; but, if broken
off, they exude a liquid which often produces severe
inflammation.*
In a part of Normandy, lying between Caen and
Falaise, is a district called “Le Bocage,” (petit bois,)
which “derives its name from the high and bushy
hedges with which it abounds; and which are de-
signed to afford shelter from the stormy winds of the
Atlantic. There are but few trees in those parts;
but the hedges, being from eight to ten feet in height,
are sufficient to protect the crops from the boisterous
sea breezes: and they thence bear the name of brise-
vent.”f -
The last point in the history of vegetables which
I propose to consider is their application as fuel; and
many nations entirely derive their supply of fuel, for
culinary and other domestic purposes, from the ve-
getable kingdom alone: and even where such a sup-
* P. 522.
# Conversations on Vegetable Physiology, vol. ii. p. 232.
Q


184 ADAPTATION OF ANIMALs
be correctly stated that out of about a hundred thou-
sand species of animals, the number supposed to have
been hitherto discovered, eighty thousand are of the
class of insects:* it will be evident that the mass of
mankind is ignorant of the very existence of nearly
four-fifths of the whole animal kingdom: for, with
the exception of the fly, the bee, the wasp, the ant,
and perhaps ten or twelve more species, few but
professed naturalists are acquainted with the specific
differences of this class of animals; so small are they
in size, and so apparently insignificant to a common
observer. But, if we have reason for believing that
not a single animal species exists without its use in
the general economy of nature, we have a certainty
that there are many, the absence of which would be
almost incompatible with the continuance of the ex-
istence of the human race. If, for instance, the duties
of the shepherd and herdsman could no longer be
exercised, in consequence of the extinction of the two
species of which they have now respectively the care,
into what misery would not the population of a great
part of the world be plunged, cut off at once from
some of the most substantial forms of animal food,
and the most general and effectual sources of
clothing !
And, if we consider the subject in another point of
view, how fitly are the natures of these species, from
the individuals of which such immense advantage
accrues to man, accommodated to that end If, for
instance, the sheep and the ox were carnivorous,
instead of herbivorous, how could the species be
preserved : or, supposing for a moment that a suffi-
cient quantity of animal food could be procured for
them, under that supposition how could it be conve-
niently distributed to the flocks and herds scattered
over a thousand hills; which now, without any con-
mollusca which constitute the food of the whale: thus producing
a dependent chain of animal life, one particular link of which
being destroyed, the whole must necessarily perish.
* The number is probably greater.


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 185
sequent trouble to the shepherd or the herdsman,
leisurely crop the grass, as they slowly traverse the
surface from their morning to their evening range of
pasture.
, Let us suppose, again, that the horse were to be-
come extinct. In that event how greatly would be
in a moment altered the condition of the whole civil-
ized world! for by what other means could there be
kept up that general communication, between distant
parts of the same empire, the rapidity and facility of
which contribute at the same time to national pros-
perity, and to individual wealth and comfort; since
that recent invention, the steam carriage, though
capable of supplying the place of horses along the
course of regular roads, would be inapplicable in
most other situations? Consider, again, the position
of contending armies, whose fate often is determined
by the evolutions of united squadrons of this noblest
of all the inferior animals; and sometimes even by
the speed of the individual charger whose rider con-
veys the command which is to determine those evo-
lutions: or, to descend into the less important though
not less interesting scenes of domestic life, let us
imagine, what we may perhaps have witnessed, the
ecstasy of an afflicted parent, who has been enabled
by the speed of this all but friend of man to reach the
couch, and to receive the dying embraces of a be-
loved child; or to obtain those means of human aid,
which haply may have averted the stroke of impend-
ing death.
But in this, as in many similar instances, we can at
once perceive (what we may always in reasoning
presume) that an alteration in the constitution of any
department of nature would be incompatible with that
harmony of the whole, the existence of which is
evident to all those who are capable of observing and
interrogating philosophically the phenomena of cre-
ation. And if it should be said that some species of
animals have actually become extinct, and others are
gradually becoming more and more rare; yet, in
Q 2


186 ADAPTATION OF-AN im ALS
such instances, we shall find the fact to be either the
result of a providential adjustment, if the expression
may be permitted; or, of the original rarity of the
species themselves, as in the case of that uncouth
bird the dodo;* or, as might possibly happen, with
respect to that still more remarkable animal of New
Holland, the ornithorhynchus paradoxus: in each of
which instances the locality of the species appears to
have been always extremely limited.
On the other hand there are species of animals,
which, though so minute, and so far removed from
common observation, as to be scarcely known to
mankind at large, much less employed for any useful
purpose, would yet be productive of great inconve-
nience were they permitted to increase indefinitely:
and hence, although they may perhaps previously
accomplish some important end in the scheme of
nature, they are destined to be the food of other
animals, which, being much larger than themselves,
necessarily consume them in great quantity. There
is hardly a bird, or a reptile, or a fish, the contents
of whose stomach would not bear witness to the
truth of the assertion just made: and even among
quadrupeds there are many species, as the mole, the
hedgehog, the manis, and the ant-eater, which, from
the nature of their food, are grouped into a distinct
family, called insectivorous.
* It is not without reason that the epithet uncouth has been
applied to the dodo; for two distinguished naturalists, in their
day, maintained for many years that such a form had never ex-
isted, but in the imagination of the painter. One of these indivi-
duals however at length had an opportunity of inspecting the
well-known specimen of the head of the dodo, which is preserved
in the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford; and was then convinced
that such a bird had existed. But so far was he from producing
the same conviction in the mind of his friend, by the description
of the specimen, that he incurred the charge of an intentional
deception; and the result was, that an interminable feud arose
between them: for though they were attached to the same insti-
tution, and lived within its walls, (not indeed without other com-
panions, or absolutely under the same roof, as their prototypes in
the Eddystone light-house,) they never again spoke to each other.


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 187
SECTION II.
Geographical Distribution of Animals.
AMong the strongest evidences of an intentional
adaptation of the external world to the physical con-
dition of man, may be classed the geographical dis-
tribution of animals, taken in connexion with certain
points in their general history. Thus the elephant,
which lives exclusively on vegetable food, is found
naturally in those climates only, where vegetation is
so luxuriantly abundant as easily to meet the large
supply, which numerous individuals of such enormous
bulk require: and then the tractability and docility
of the animal are such, that its amazing strength may
be easily directed to forward the purposes of man;
and often is so directed, in the conduct of military
operations, as well as on various ordinary occasions:
and lastly, the increase of the species advances
slowly; for, in by far the greater number of instances,
only one individual is produced at a birth. Now
had the elephant been equally adapted to colder cli-
mates, where vegetation is comparatively scant, the
difficulty of supporting the individual animals in such
climates would have diminished the value of the
species: or, were elephants as intractable and indo-
cile, as they are the reverse, what destruction would
they not be continually dealing around them; witness
the scene which took place a few years since in a
public menagerie of London; where a company of
musketeers was introduced, in order to subdue a
single individual of this species, which had become
infuriated from accidental circumstances ! Or, lastly,
had the elephant been as prolific as the swine, (and it
should be observed that they are branches of the
same natural order,) how could the increased num-
bers of individuals have been maintained, in the case
of a species which is not naturally capable of
emigrating to a different climate?


188 ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS
SECTION III.
The Camel.
Of all animals, the camel perhaps is most exactly
adapted both to those peculiar regions of the earth
in which it is principally, if not exclusively, found;
and to those purposes for which it is usually employed
by man: to whose wants indeed it is so completely
accommodated, and apparently so incapable of ex-
isting without his superintendence, that while on the
one hand we find the camel described in the earliest
records of history, and in every subsequent period,
as in a state of subjugation to man, and employed
for precisely the same purposes as at the present
day; on the other hand, it does not appear that the
species has ever existed in a wild or independent
State.
With scarcely any natural means of defence, and
nearly useless in the scheme of creation, (as far as we
can judge) unless as the slave of man, it forms a re-
markable parallel to the sheep, the ox, and other of
the ruminating species; which are also rarely, if
ever, found, but under the protection of man, and to
that protection alone are indebted, indeed, for their
existence as a distinct species. Let us compare then
the form, and structure, and moral qualities of the
camel, with the local character of the regions in
which it is principally found; and with the nature of
the services exacted of it by man.
The sandy deserts of Arabia are the classical
country of the camel; but it is also extensively em-
ployed in various other parts of Asia, and in the
north of Africa: and the constant communication
that exists between the tribes which border on the
intervening sea of sand, could only be maintained by
an animal possessing such qualities as characterize
the camel—“the ship of the desert,” as it has empha-
tically been called. Laden with the various kinds of


190 ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS
for the ordinary consumption of the animal during
many days. And, as opportunities occur, the camel
instinctively replenishes this reservoir; and is thus
enabled to sustain a degree of external drought,
which would be destructive to all other animals but
such as have a similar structure: nor is any other
animal of the old world known to possess this peculiar
structure. But if we pass to the inhabited regions
of the Andes in the new world, we there meet with
several species of animals, as the lama, the vigogna,
and the alpaca, which, though much smaller than
the camel, correspond generally in their anatomy
with that animal, and particularly with reference to
the structure of the stomach: they resemble also the
camel in docility; and, to complete the parallel, they
were employed by the aboriginal inhabitants in the
new world for the same purposes as the camel in
the old.
Of the two species of camel, the Bactrian and
Arabian, the latter is that with the history of which
we are best acquainted; and though there is reason
to believe, that, whatever is said of the qualities of
the one might with truth be affirmed of the other
also, on the present occasion whatever is said is
referable to the Arabian species.* The camel, then,
not only consumes less food than the horse, but can
sustain more fatigue. A large camel is capable of
carrying from seven to twelve hundred weight, and
travelling with that weight on its back, at the rate
*The Bactrian species, which has two bosses on its back, is
more peculiar to Tartary and northern Asia. The Arabian,
which has only one boss, is not confined to the country from
which it is named, but is the same species with that which pre-
vails in northern Africa. As in the case of all domesticated
animals the varieties of these two species are numerous: and it
is a variety of the Arabian species, of a small height, to which
the ancients gave the name of dromedary, from its employment
as a courier; but in the magnificent work of St. Hilaire and
Cuvier, (Hist. Nat. des Mammiferes,) the term dromedary is
:* in a specific sense, for all the varieties of the Arabian
Inel.


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 191
of above ten leagues in each day. The small courier
camel, carrying no weight, will travel thirty leagues
in each day, provided the ground be dry and level.
Individuals of each variety will subsist for eight or
ten successive days on dry thorny plants; but after
this period require more nutritious food, which is
usually supplied in the form of dates and various
artificial preparations: though, if not so supplied, the
camel will patiently continue its course, till nearly
the whole of the fat, of which the boss on its back
consists, is absorbed; whereby that protuberance
becomes, as it were, obliterated.
The camel is equally patient of thirst as of hunger:
and this happens, no doubt, in consequence of the
supply of fluid which it is capable of obtaining from
the peculiar reservoir contained in its stomach. It
possesses moreover a power and delicacy in the
sense of smell, (to that sense at least such a power
is most naturally referrible,) by which, after having
thirsted for seven or eight days, it perceives the
existence of water at a very considerable distance:
and it manifests this power by running directly to
the point where the water exists. It is obvious that
this faculty is exerted as much to the benefit of their
drivers, and the whole suite of the caravan, as of the
camels themselves.
Such are some of the leading advantages derived
to man from the physical structure and powers of
this animal: nor are those advantages of slight mo-
ment which are derived from its docile and patient
disposition. It is no slight advantage, for instance,
considering the great height of the animal, which
usually exceeds six or seven feet, that the camel is
easily taught to bend down its body on its limbs, in
order to be laden: and, indeed, if the weight to be
placed on its back be previously so distributed, as to
be balanced on an intervening yoke of a convenient
form, it will spontaneously direct its neck under the
yoke, and afterwards transfer the weight to its back.
St. Hilaire and Cuvier, from whom the substance of


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 193
And when, in consequence of the discovery of the
Cape of Good Hope, Alexandria ceased to be the
main emporium of India and Europe, Venice declin-
ed in its riches and power; and the Portuguese, the
Dutch, and lastly the English, acquired the political
influence which Venice had lost: so true is the ob-
servation of sir William Temple, that whatever na-
tion is in possession of the commerce of India must
necessarily have a preponderating influence in the
affairs of the whole world.*
But, although the rout by the Cape has in a great
measure superseded that by Alexandria, the com-
mercial intercourse carried on by means of the cam-
el between opposite confines of the African and Asi-
atic deserts is still sufficiently extensive to make the
inportance of that animal very considerable: so that
even now, as ages and ages since, the riches of an
individual are estimated by the number of camels he
may possess: and he still uses his camels either in
war, or for the transport of merchandize, or for the
purpose of selling them.f
But it would be found, upon pursuing the history of
the camel, that, while under the point of view which
has been just considered, this animal contributes
more largely to the advantages of mankind than any
other species of the ruminating order, it scarcely is
inferior to any one of those species with respect to
* For an account of the traffic between India and Europe, see
Niebuhr, Descript. de l'Arabie, p. 246. &c.
# It cannot be considered an irrelevant, and certainly not in it-
self an uninteresting digression, here to observe that there was
a period in the commercial history of England, within the last
century even, when the horses served the purpose in this island,
which the camel serves in Arabia and other parts of the world:
and a distinct trade then existed, that of the packer; the occupa-
tion of which was to make up bales of goods in a form convenient
for carriage on the back of the pack-horse; and the trace of that
mode of conveyance is still to be recognised in the sign of many
inns in those parts of England where that mode of conveyance
was prevalent. The same mode of conveyance is still very ex-
tensively employed in the north-eastern parts of the Russian do-
minions.
R


194 ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS
other advantages on account of which they are prin-
cipally valuable. Thus the Arab obtains from the
camel not only milk and cheese and butter, but he
ordinarily also eats its flesh, and fabricates its hair
into clothing of various kinds. The very refuse indeed
of the digested food of the animal is the principal
fuel of the desert; and from the smoke of this fuel
is obtained the well-known substance called salam-
moniac, which is very extensively employed in the
arts; and of which indeed, formerly, the greater part
met with in commerce was obtained from this source
alone, as may be implied from its very name.*
SECTION IV.
Domestication of Animals.
NATURE has implanted a disposition in almost all
animals to be domesticated by man; and also a capa-
bility of becoming adapted to the various climates
into which they accompany him; and this disposition
and adaptation necessarily extend the utility of these
animals. There is, moreover, a consequent effect of
domestication which is obvious to the commonest ob-
server; and which extends still farther the benefits
arising from the practice. In a state of nature, al-
most all the individuals of the same species of ani-
mals have, at any given period of their life, so close
a resemblance to each other in form, size, and col-
our, that it is difficult to distinguish them at a little
distance: but whenever any species has been long
domesticated, or subjugated to the dominion of man,
we usually find a proportional variety in those parts.
In proof of the foregoing assertion it will be sufficient
to make a comparison between wild and tame rab-
bits; or between the domestic and wild cat; and to
refer to the differences observable in all those ani-
.* Ammon, an ancient name of that part of the African desert
situate to the west of Egypt, supplied formerly much of the sal
ammoniac of commerce.


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 195
mals which are constantly under the care of man, as
the horse, the dog, and the ox.
The alteration which is produced in such cases,
and which depends partly on climate and food and
general regimen, but still more on the intermixture
of the breed, is in many instances of the highest
utility to man. Suppose for a moment that, in the
case of the horse, any one of the existing varieties,
the dray-horse for instance, or the Shetland pony,
were from henceforth to determine the permanent
character of the species; and observe what would be
the consequence. What a waste of power, and what
an inconvenient increase of trouble and expense,
both with respect to the stable-room and food, would
there be in using the dray-horse, where the Shetland
i. would be sufficient; and, on the other hand,
ow ill would the Shetland pony supply the place of
the dray-horse, where enormous weights were to be
set in motion!
Again, in the case of the dog, were all other varie-
ties of this most useful animal to be annihilated, and
only one form to prevail, its value would be propor-
tionally lessened. If no variety of the dog existed
but the small spaniel or the terrier, the miserable in-
habitant of the north could no longer travel over his
native tracts of frozen snow: nor could the victim of
Alpine frost in Switzerland be hereafter rescued from
a premature death, as he often now is, by the sagaci-
ty and strength of the mastiffs of that region. And,
in another element, how many a life, which must
have been otherwise lost, has been saved from a wa-
tery grave by the joint sagacity and powerful strength
of the Newfoundland dog! What would the shepherd
do without the assistance which he now derives from
his faithful companion? Instead of that compact pha-
lanx which we have often seen advancing over the
distant downs, under the direction of the shepherd's
dog; and from time to time, in obedience to its intel-
ligent commander, still altering its direction in ad-
vancing, as steadily as a ship in sail obeys the helm;


198 ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS
strongest animals shrink from the defiance of the
dog; but he never saw the dog shrink from the de-
fiance of any other animal.”
SECTION V.
Animals as a Source of Food for Man.
ALTHough the inhabitants of very warm climates
live priſicipally and often entirely on vegetables; in
the colder climates animal food usually makes a part
of the daily sustenance of all who are not oppressed
by poverty: and nature has not only provided amply
for this want, but has afforded the easiest means of
supplying it. The disposition of those animals, which
afford the great bulk of the supply that is required,
as the sheep, the ox, and the swine, is such, that
they are not only disposed to live gregariously, but
are readily brought under obedience, so as to be
inoffensive either to the person or property of man:
and their docility in this respect is particularly
worthy of our attention, because, from the observa-
tions of M. Frederic Cuvier, (Mém. du Mus. tom.
xiii. p. 419, 420,) it appears that herbivorous animals
are not, as is generally supposed, naturally more
mild and tractable than the carnivorous; in fact they
are by nature less mild and tractable.
The flesh of all those species, which have been
above mentioned, is, generally speaking, acceptable
to the human palate; and is in a great measure
necessary to the support of those who are habitually
exposed to great exertions and fatigue: but there
are many occasions on which such food could not
with any convenience be obtained, even by those to
* Linnaeus, in enumerating the characters of the lion, makes,
by implication, a somewhat similar observation with respect to
e dog. “Leo esuriens predatur, equis et aliis majoribus
* ;—canibus coercetur.” Linn. System. Gmelin. tom.
i. p. 76.)


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 199
whom the expense is not a matter of any considera-
tion. In situations, for instance, which are far re-
moved from any town, there are very few, with the
exception of the possessors of extensive landed pro-
perty, who can be conveniently supplied with animal
food from their own flocks and herds: and in the
case of the crews of ships, which are accustomed to
make long voyages, it would be utterly impossible to
find room in any vessel for such a number of live
animals, and still less for the food which those animals
would require, as would be competent to supply the
daily consumption of all on board. But in all these
instances the difficulty is obviated by the preservative
quality of common salt: for we know that, by the
aid of salted provisions, guarded by the regular use
of vegetable acids, a ship's crew may be maintained
in good health for an indefinite length of time.
And then, with reference to the general question,
there are almost all the herbivorous species of birds,
together with the auxiliary, supply of their eggs;
and those numerous species both of river and of sea
fish, which contribute very largely to the support of
the human race, not solely by affording food, but by
affording a lucrative employment to the fisherman.
I omit the consideration of the turtle, the lobster, the
prawn, the oyster, and a few other species; because
the aggregate consumption of such kind of food is
comparatively small; and those animals, as articles
of food, may be considered rather as luxuries than
necessaries.
Of the animals which supply us with food, the flesh
or muscular fibre is that part which is most accept-
able to the palate: and it is worthy of consideration
that the flesh of those animals, of whose living ser-
vices we stand hourly in need, as the horse and the
dog, are so unpalatable that we are not tempted to
eat them unless in cases of dreadful necessity. Many
individuals however, through poverty, are content,
and some by peculiarity of taste are inclined, to feed
on the lungs or liver, or other of the viscera of


200 ADAPTATION OF ANiMALS
animals. And modern researches and experiments
have taught us that even the bones may be rendered
digestible, either by the effect of long boiling under
a high degree of artificial pressure, as in the appa-
ratus called Papin's Digester, or in consequence of
the removal of their earthy basis by means of any
convenient acid; and we have also learnt, from
similar sources, that common saw-dust, by certain
chemical processes, may be made nutritious: but
we may fairly argue, from the provisional care of
nature, that mankind will never be generally reduced
to such circuitous means of obtaining their necessary
food. In the mean time we may console ourselves
with the reflection, that in the event of any temporary
or local difficulty, we may find a supply of food
where antecedently to the researches above men-
tioned we should never have dreamed of looking for
it. Vitruvius mentions, in speaking of the construction
of garden walks, that the fragments of charcoal,
which were a common substratum of such walks,
had occasionally afforded a most important magazine
of fuel in a protracted siege: and in such an emer-
gency the bones of animals might continue a supply
of food, after the flesh had been eaten.
SECTION VI.
JManufacture of Sal Ammoniac.
Even in the present abundance of animal food the
refuse is not wasted; and all that is thrown aside, as
unpalatable or indigestible, is subsequently collected,
for the purpose of obtaining a material, very exten-
sively employed, and of considerable value in the
arts, known familiarly under the name of sal ammoniac.
Perhaps in the whole circle of the arts there is
scarcely any process more interesting, if all the
attendant circumstances be considered, than the
fabrication of this substance: and the interest prin-
cipally arises from this peculiarity in the nature of


TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 201
the process, that, among the numerous products
which are evolved in its different stages, there is
scarcely one which is not sufficiently useful to pre-
vent the necessity of its being thrown away.
Any one, who is in the habit of walking much in
the streets of London, will frequently see some half-
clothed wretched individual stooping down and
holding open an apron, into which he throws from
time to time pieces of broken bone and other offal,
which he has disengaged from the interstices of the
stones that form the carriage pavement. The un-
sightly load thus obtained is conveyed to the sal
ammoniac manufactory; and when a sufficient mass
of bones has been accumulated from this and other
sources, they are thrown into a caldron of water,
and are boiled for the purpose of clearing them of
the grease with which they are enveloped: which
grease, subsequently collected from the surface of
the water on which it floats, is employed in the com-
position of soap.
The bones thus cleaned are thrown into large
retorts, surrounded by burning fuel, and submitted
to the process called destructive distillation; whereby,
in consequence of the application of a sufficient de-
gree of heat, the matter of the bone is resolved into
its constituent elements, from which new compounds
are formed. Of these, some pass off in the state of
vapour or gas, while the fixed principles remain in
the retort.
Among the more remarkable products which pass
off are carbonic acid gas, commonly known by the
name of fived air; and various combinations of
hydrogen and carbon, forming different kinds of in-
flammable air; together with water holding carbonate
of ammonia (salt of hartshorn) in solution; and a
peculiar oil. Of these products, the fixed air and
inflammable air are disregarded, and suffered to
escape. The oil is employed to feed lamps placed
in small chambers, the sides of which become in-
crusted with the smoke arising from the combustions


202 ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS
which smoke being collected, becomes an article of
sale under the name of lamp black; a substance of
considerable importance as the basis of printing ink,
&c.
It would be tedious, and uninteresting to the ge-
neral reader, to describe all the intermediate steps
of the process: and it is sufficient for the present
purpose to state that, towards the conclusion of it,
two new compounds are formed, namely muriate of
ammonia and sulphate of soda: of which the sulphate
of soda is separated by the process of crystallization,
and is sold to the druggists under the common name
of Glauber's salt; and the muriate of ammonia, (sal
ammoniac,) the great object of the whole manufac-
ture, is finally obtained in a separate state by the
process called sublimation.
The form of the bones, submitted to destructive
distillation in this process, is not altered; and the
unvolatilized mass, remaining in the retorts, consists
of the earthy and saline matter of these bones,
blackened by the carbon which is evolved from their
animal matter. Exposure to an open fire drives off
this carbon, and leaves the bones still unaltered in
form, but nearly blanched: and these bones, sub-
sequently reduced to powder, and mixed with a
sufficient quantity of water to give them the requisite
degree of consistence, are formed into vessels, which
. employed in the process of refining gold and
SlTVer.
It was stated that, during the destructive distilla-
tion of bone, the carbonic acid and inflammable
gases are suffered to escape: but of these the latter
might be employed in supplying light to gas burners;
and then, out of the numerous products of the com-
plicated process which I have been describing, the
carbonic acid would be the only substance not em-
ployed for some useful purpose.


205
CHAPTER X.
ADAPTATION OF THE EXTERNAL WORLD TO THE EXERCISE
OF THE INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES OF MAN.
SECTION I.
On the Rise and Progress of Human Knowledge.
In the preceding part of this treatise the physical
character and condition of man were first considered;
and, afterwards, the adaptation of external nature to
the supply of his bodily wants. It remains for us to
consider the adaptation of the various objects of the
material world to the exercise of his intellectual
faculties. - -
But, in contemplating the connexion which exists
between the external world and the exercise of the
mind of man, who shall attempt to describe the na-
ture and boundaries of that yet unmeasured plain of
knowledge, in which man is constantly either intel-
lectually expatiating, or practically exerting himself?
who, without wandering into the mazes of metaphy-
sical speculation—always amusing in the pursuit, but
never, perhaps, satisfactory in the result—who shall
develope the obscure steps by which science first
finds access to the mind? In reflecting indeed on the
state of civilized society during its earlier periods,
there is nothing more wonderful in the intellectual
history of mankind, than the skilful management of
many processes in the arts, the true nature of which
was not understood till ages and ages afterwards.
Thus, although zinc was scarcely known as a distinct
metal till about a century since; and almost within
the same period, one of its commonest ores, cala-
mine, was held in so little estimation in Great Britain
that it was frequently used merely as ballast for ship-
S


206 EXERCISE OF THE
ping, (Watson's Essays, vol. iv. p. 6.5) yet that same
ore was used before the time of Aristotle for the pur-
pose of making brass, and to that purpose is princi-
pally applied at the present day. The process also
of making wine was known in the earliest periods of
history; although the principles on which it is pro-
duced were not well understood till a few years since.
Another remarkable fact in the history of human
science, which, though frequently observed, has not
yet been explained, is the occasional arrest of its
progress at a point immediately bordering on disco-
veries which did not take place till many ages
subsequently.” This may be affirmed, in a certain
sense at least, with respect to glass: for this sub-
stance, though very early discovered, hardly came
into general use for ordinary purposes till compara-
tively a very late period. But a more remarkable
instance occurs with respect to the art of printing:
and whoever looks at the stereotype stamps, as they
may be called, which have been discovered at Her-
* The substance of the following note, though not directly il-
lustrative of the subject now under consideration, is not irrele-
vant to it; and is sufficiently curious in itself to justify its in-
troduction to the notice of the reader.
In Dr. Thomson's Annals of Philosophy for 1817, p. 149, is an
account of a paper read at the Royal Society, relative to some
experiments made on torpedoes at Rochelle, in which it is stated
that were torpedoes abound, boys are in the habit of playing the
following trick to those who are not in the secret. They per-
suade the ignorant boy to pour water in a continued stream upon
the torpedo; and the consequence is that an electrical shock is
conveyed along the stream to the body of the boy.
Plutarch notices the same fact in almost the same terms. “It
is affirmed by those,” he says, “who have often made the experi-
ment, that, in pouring water on a live torpedo, the hand of the
rson who is pouring the water will be sensible of a shock, which
has apparently been conveyed through the water to his hand.”
"Eno Ri is repºrt, wära, adrās irrator Aaw8évertes, as
izzirº Ǻra (Népkº, the Torpedo,) carazziław, wris Wºof ºval-
€er, airgériota roº widows *vareizevres irº rºw zeies, asi rhy
&ps, ºugxworres, as tours, 34 rºares retressivew zal ree-
werevºres.
PLUT. MoRALIA, Oxon, 4to, 1797, tom. iv. p. 643, 644.


208 EXERCISE OF THE
If any one should too curiously object that there
can be no direct proof of a similarity of impression,
from the same object, on the senses of men in general;
it might be answered, that neither is there any direct
proof to the contrary: while we have many antece-
dent reasons for believing that there really is such a
similarity of impression. The structure for instance
of the several organs of taste, smell, hearing, and
sight, is essentially the same in all individuals; and
the functions of those organs may therefore be pre-
sumed to be the same: and from the similarity of the
natural expression of disgust, which peculiar odours
and flavours usually excite in numerous individuals,
it cannot be reasonably doubted that their respective
senses are similarly affected by those agents.
If, again, any one should further object that we can
have no absolutely firm ground for a reliance on the
senses themselves, it might fairly be answered, that
although, from the time of Pyrrho to that of Berke-
ley, there have been always speculative sceptics with
respect to the testimony .# the senses, there probably
has never been a practical sceptic on that point. It
is stated in the life of Pyrrho by Diogenes Laertius,
that though that philosopher asserted the nonexist-
ence of matter, and pretended therefore to universal
indifference, he was sometimes overcome by his feel-
ings, and would then act as other men act on such
occasions; and, when reminded of the inconsequence
of his conduct with reference to his doctrine, he
would excuse himself by asserting, that it is difficult
entirely to put off human nature, (* x<xsway tin Saar-
zigº, ix359a 3,864 wor); and it must be confessed that,
in this apology, he offered the best comment on the
character of his doctrine. And most philosophically
does Lucretius” argue, in noticing the apparent mo-
difications of form which bodies undergo, in conse-
quence of being viewed at different distances, that,
although no satisfactory reason can be given of the
*Lib. iv. 502–512.


210 EXERCISE OF THE
son; it would be fruitless to inquire : but it is inter-
esting to contemplate the similarity of principle
which seems to regulate the discoveries of the useful
properties of material substances.* Man does not
appear to possess that kind of instinct which leads
him to the selection of a specific sort of material for
his nourishment or clothing, or for the construction
of his habitation: but, in proportion as he feels new
wants, he meditates on the means of gratifying them;
and usually perceives, with a quick eye, those quali-
ties in external bodies, which make them capable of
being fitted to the end he has in view. This power
of perception is peculiarly characteristic of the intel-
*The following passages, one from Vitruvius, the other from
Cicero, are applicable on the present occasion. “ The Deity has
provided an abundant supply in every part of the world for the
necessary wants of man; and has ordained that that supply shall
be easily attainable: whereas those things which are to be consi-
dered in the light of luxuries, as gold and precious stones, are
rarely met with, and are procured with difficulty.” (“Igitur divina
mens, quae proprie necessaria essent gentibus, non constituit diffi-
cilia et cara; uti sunt margaritº, caeteraque quae nec corpus nec
natura desiderat: sed sine quibus mortalium vita non potest esse
tuta, effudit ad manum parata per omnem mundum.” Vitruv.
Prefat. ad lib. viii.), “In vain had nature created gold and sil-
ver, and copper and iron, unless she had at the same time in-
structed mankind how to discover the repositories of those metals.
And, again, in vain had the material been adapted to our wants,
unless we understood the method of obtaining it in a separate and
perfect state.” (“Aurum et argentum, acs, ferrum, frustra natura
divina genuisset, nisi eaderm docuisset quemadmodum ad eorum
venas perveniretur—materia deinde quid juvaret, nisi confec-
tionis ejus fabricam haberemus " Cicero de Divinat. lib. i. e.
51.) The following passage from Isaiah gives authority to the
preceding opinion: “Doth the plowman plow all day, to sow
doth he open and break the clods of his ground ! When he hath
made plain the face thereof, doth he not cast abroad the fitches,
and scatter the cummin, and cast in the principal wheat and the
appointed barley and the rye in their place? For his God doth
instruct him to discretion, and doth teach him.” Ch. xxviii.
24–26. And so, when Dr. Thomson considers it as “remark-
able that almost all those metals which were known to the an-
cients possessmalleability,” (Thomson's Chemistry, sixth edit.
vol. i. p. 325.) it may with propriety be observed that those are
exactly the metals, without which society could not have existed.


INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 211
lectual faculties of man: and although the inferior
animals have, to a certain extent, the same power,
with reference to their specific instincts, yet in them
it is very limited. The nest of the same bird may be
composed, in different years, of somewhat different
materials, according to the latitude of her choice;
but, with the exception of such a modification, she
never varies from or improves upon the original
plan: the comparatively unsheltered hovel of the
rook, for instance, is never improved into the com-
fortable cottage of the swallow.
It is probably owing to the exercise of the above
mentioned power of perception in the human mind,
that the instruments and arts of uncivilized life, ob-
servable at all periods of history and in all parts of
the world, have such a general resemblance; al-
though, in the construction of the one, or the exercise
of the other, there cannot have been any communi-
cation of knowledge. Compare, for instance, the
stone arrow-heads and axes of the ancient Celtic
nations, with the similar instruments of the inhabit-
ants of those islands of the Pacific Ocean which
were not discovered till the last century. The fol-
lowing fact, and accompanying remark, may be men-
tioned, in illustration of the present part of the sub-
ject. Captain Beechey, in describing a dead whale
which had been wounded by an Esquimaux harpoon,
having “a drag attached, made of an inflated seal
skin, which had no doubt worried the animal to
death,” adds this pertinent observation. “Thus,
with knowledge just proportioned to their wants, do
these untutored barbarians, with their slender boats
and limited means, contrive to take the largest animal
of the creation.” Voyage to the Pacific, p. 270.*
* The same author observes, in a short sketch of Upper Cali-
fornia, that the natives cultivate no land, but subsist entirely “by
the chase and upon the spontaneous produce of the earth; acorns,
of which there is a great abundance in the country, constituting
their principal vegetable food. Of these acorns they procure a
supply in the proper season; and, after having baked them, they


INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 313
nautical skill; nor, lastly, a fertile soil and abundance
and variety of mineral riches, a correspondent skill
in the general arts of life. In every instance it may
be presumed that civilization must have advanced
sufficiently to have produced many artificial wants,
before individuals feel that powerful stimulus which
prompts them to take the full advantage of those
resources which nature has placed within their reach.
The miserable natives of New Holland, though inha-
biting a country as extensive, and in parts as fertile
as Europe, have afforded no indications of an ap-
proach towards that degree of civilization which
would lead them to discover and apply its resources.
But, though it would be a vain and useless specu-
lation to inquire in what way the arts and sciences
actually arose, or how it has happened that they
were more or less successfully cultivated by different
nations, it cannot be either uninteresting or uninstruc-
tive to compare the progress which natural science
had made in Europe, at a period shortly antecedent
to the Christian era, with the state in which it now
exists; and such a comparison is in strict accordance
with the original intention of this treatise. The ma-
terials for this comparison, which will be attempted
only on a plan the most general, have been princi-
pally derived from Lucretius, and from that work of
Aristotle which is entitled, II.g. zºº, ‘Irreela;. It should
be remembered, however, that there is a broad line
of distinction between the mode in which natural
science was cultivated by the ancients, and that
which has been adopted by the moderns. The an-
cients, though on many occasions as accurate ob-
servers of the obvious phenomena of nature as the
moderns, were too hasty in coming to conclusions as
to the character and cause of those phenomena; and
hence the crude opinions and theories with which
their philosophy abounded. But, if we justly con-
sider the precept of Thales, “Know thyself,” as a
precept of the highest wisdom for our moral conduct,
we must, on equally strong grounds, consider it as


214 EXERCISE OF THE
the highest prerogative of reason, or our intel-
lectual nature, to know the actual extent of its
own powers: and it is one of the glories of the phi-
Iosophy of the present day, that, instead of being
ashamed of its own limitations, and consequently
prone to hurry into unfounded assumptions for the
purpose of hiding its ignorance, it explicitly, and at
once, acknowledges the point which for the present
must be considered as a barrier to further progress;
still however looking forward to the period when the
increased accumulation of new facts shall enable it
to remove that barrier.
SECTION II.
Opinions of Lucretius on the Constitution of Matter in
general; and on the Nature of Light, Heat, Water,
and Air.
IN attempting to explain the constitution of the
universe, and the general phenomena of nature, Lu-
cretius assumes that matter in its primary form con-
sists of very Sinall and impenetrable particles, which,
from their supposed incapability of further division,
are called atoms; that, from the fortuitous concourse
of these atoms, all natural bodies were originally
produced; and that into these they are again resolved
by those common processes which we are constantly
witnessing, as the death and consequent decomposi-
tion of vegetables and animals, and the wearing
away of the most solid bodies by the effect of expo-
sure to the air, or by the insensible attrition of other
bodies: and, lastly, he maintains that these atoms
existed from eternity, and are in their essence indes-
tructible.
He asserts as untenable, in fair reasoning, the
opinion that there is no term to the divisibility of
matter; since, on that supposition, the smallest bodies
would consist of an infinite number of parts: and he
consequently concludes that those indivisible bodies


216 EXERCISE OF THE
“It may be said perhaps, that the showers, which
sink into the earth and are lost to our sight, appa-
rently perish: but then, from their fertilizing effects
on the soil, and their subsequent incorporation with
the growing seed, the harvest rises, and the vine and
fig-tree flourish. Hence, moreover, animal life in
general derives its support; the sportive lamb hence
draws it nutriment from its full-fed mother, and wan-
tons round the meads and woods; and hence those
woods themselves yearly resound with the melody of
their native tenants. Nor does the effect stop here:
for we ourselves ultimately derive our support from
the same source; and cities are eventually peopled
from the nutriment produced by the very rain which
we had fondly supposed to perish. But nothing
really perishes; nature producing new forms of mat-
ter, from the materials of those which have appa-
rently been destroyed.”
It would appear, from a very remarkable passage
in Lucretius, that some of the philosophers of his day
entertained an opinion, which he himself however
opposes, that there exists a universal law of gravita-
tion, by which all bodies tend towards the earth
as the centre of the universe; that, in consequence
of this law, the bodies of those animals which in-
habit the opposite, or, as it were, the inferior surface
of the earth, are no more capable of falling into the
sky which surrounds them, than the animals inhabit-
ing our own, or, the relatively upper surface of the
earth, are capable of rising into the sky which is
placed above them. And, correspondently with the
spherical form of the earth, which almost necessarily.
follows as a corollary from such an exposition of the
law of gravitation, the same philosophers argued that,
at the same moment when on the opposite surface it
is day, with us it is night.f
Although Lucretius, when speaking in general
terms of the tendency of all heavy bodies to fall
* Lib. I. 251–265. f Lib. L. 1051–1065.


INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 217
towards the earth, and of the acceleration of mo-
tion and increase of force which they acquire in
falling, offers such an account of the facts as we
might expect from his confused doctrine of atoms,
and shows his ignorance of the real character of
positive gravity; yet of the nature of relative or spe-
cific gravity, that is, of the cause why equal bº
of different bodies are of different weights, he gives
the true explanation, by asserting that the heaviest
bodies contain most matter, and consequently have
fewest pores.* That such pores exist not only in
wool, and bodies of a similar texture, but even in
those which are hard and compact, is proved, he af.
firms, by the percolation of water through the roofs
of caverns; and from the transmission of the food
both of animals and plants into their extreme limbs
and branches.f
Lucretius considers light as a very subtle kind of
matter, which, from its tenuity, is capable of incon-
ceivably swift motion; the rapidity of which motion
he instances in its nearly instantaneous diffusion
through the whole heaven. With respect to the
connexion of light and colour, he not only affirms
that the latter cannot exist without the former ; but
that the particular colour observable in different bo-
dies is not inherent in those bodies, and that in every
instance it is produced by the direction, or other cir-
cumstances, under which light impinges either on
them, or on the eye of the beholder: and he gives as
examples the plumage of the neck of the pigeon, and
of the tail of the peacock." And thus, he adds, the
countenances of the audience, and the whole interior
of a theatre, closed in with coloured curtains, are
tinged with the colour of those curtains.| He in-
stances the foregoing position by a reference to the
colour of the sea; which, when viewed in the mass,
* Lib. WI. 334–346. and lib. I. 359—370.
+ Lib. I. 347–354.
f Lib. IV. 184–190, and 200–202. § Lib. II. 794–808.
| Lib. IV. 70–78.
T


INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 219
ed to be periodically warmer in the night, and cooler
in the day, he almost anticipates the views of modern
chemistry respecting the different capacities of bo-
dies for heat; when, in accounting for the fact, he
supposes the heat to be forced by compression, oc-
casioned by diminution of temperature, from the sur-
rounding earth into the water.” His interpretation
indeed of the phenomenon is not correct; but this
error does not interfere with the ingenuity of the il-
lustration, or its coincidence with modern hypothe-
sis: and it is remarkable that, even after the lapse of
twenty centuries, the real nature of heat is still ques-
tionable. We now know that, in such instances as
that just mentioned, the apparent difference of tem-
perature depends upon the relative temperature of
the surrounding air; water which has been recently
drawn up from the well feeling cool in the heat of
summer; but warm, during a frost. The fact is,
that, being really of a mean temperature throughout
the year, it will be greatly beneath the temperature
of the air of summer, and therefore will then appear
cold; and it will be on the other hand above the
temperature of the air of winter, and will therefore
at that season appear warm.t
From various phenomena, as from the drying of
linen, or from its becoming damp without a visible
accession or exhalation of particles of moisture, Lu-
cretius argues that water is capable of existing in the
state of an invisible vapour. He asserts also that
its constant exhalation from the sea is proved by the
corrosion of walls built near the sea-shore, and from
*Lib. VI. 861–873.
# Aristotle, in his history of animals, mentions as a fact, with-
out however offering any explanation of it, that during the night
the water is warmer than the air; for in stating that crocodiles
commonly remain on the land during the day, but in the water
during the night, he adds as a reason, that during the night the
water is warmer than the air, (&xturirigoy yole irri rā; aideias.
ED. BEKKER. P. 37.)
f Lib. I. 306–311


220 EXERCISE OF THE
the salt taste perceptible in our mouths while walk-
ing near the sea;" and that, although this exhalation
takes place in a small quantity only, at any given
moment and from a given surface, the aggregate
quantity, which is the ultimate result, is very great;
and, lastly, that in consequence of this exhalation,
the sea does not increase in quantity notwithstand-
ing the constant influx of rivers, and the rain that
falls into it. He notices moreover and accounts for
the equality of the balance, between the quantity that
falls into the sea from rain and rivers, and the quan-
tity that is evaporated from the surface of it.[
In speaking of atmospherical air, Lucretius main-
tains that, although in its nature invisible, and to all
common perception intangible, from various phe-
momena it may be reasonably inferred, that it is re-
ally a tangible, in other words, a material substance.
“Thus,” he says, “when we observe that the winds,
which are evidently nothing more than currents of
air not only drive the clouds in various directions,
but violently agitate the ocean; and even occasion
the wreck of the largest ships, by dashing them
against the rocks: or when, in the form of a hurri-
cane, they snap asunder the stateliest oaks, and lay
prostrate in their course the honours of the moun-
tain forest; we cannot doubt that in their mode of
action, as well as in the destructive character of
their effects, they resemble the inundation of a rapid
river; like which, they sweep before them every ob-
stacle, or carry up the heaviest bodies into the at-
mosphere in their invisible eddies, with no less ease
than the eddies of a rapid stream ingulf whatever
comes within their vortex.” He also shows, by a
still more refined argument, that the air must be a
material substance, because it offers resistance to
falling bodies; proving this resistance by the dif-
ference in the velocity of falling bodies of different
* Lib. IV. 219–227. + Lib. VI. 607—630.
f Lib. V. 381—394. § Lib. I. 272–295.


INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 221
weights; for, were there no resistance in the air, he
asserts, and the fact is experimentally shown in mo-
dern lectures, that unequal weights, meeting with no
impediment or support, would fall with equal ve-
locity.*
Lucretius distinctly notices the physical office of
the air as a receptacle, and medium of conveyance
for soundt and odours, and the various exhalations
continually arising from the surface of the earth.Ş
But, though he is right in asserting that the skin of
animals and the bark, of trees are a protection
against the action of the air, he is wrong in sup-
posing them to be a protection against the mechani-
cal action of that element. The science of chemis-
try, which had not then arisen, has taught us that
such external coverings are a protection against the
chemical action of the air.
It appears probable, from the preceding statement,
that in the age of Lucretius philosophers had form-
ed some reasonable conjectures respecting the na-
ture of light and heat; and that several of the phy-
sical phenomena of water and of atmospherical air
had been accurately observed, and upon the whole
correctly explained by them. And even in a subject
of a much more suitable mature, the mutual attrac-
tion of the magnet and iron, the explanation of the
phenomenon was attempted with a degree of inge-
nuity quite equal to that, which has marked the rea-
sonings of some of the philosophers of the last and
present century, on subjects of a similarly abstruse
nature.
In proceeding to account for the attraction of iron
by the magnet, Lucretius first describes the well
known experiment of a short chain of iron rings, the
several links of which are held together merely by
the force of magnetism; the attractive power of
which is communicated continuously from the first
* Lib. II. 230–239. + Lib. IV. 561–563, and 572, 573.
f Lib. IV. 219–222, and 228—230. § Lib. W. 276, 277.
|Lib. IV. 930–934.
T 2


222 EXERCISE OF THE
to the last in the series. He then claims the particular
attention of his reader to his proposed explanation
of so difficult a subject, by reminding him that, in
facts of this kind, many points must be laboriously
investigated and established, before a rational solu-
tion can be given. Thence, assuming that from all
bodies minute particles are constantly radiating, of
which, those from some bodies are disposed to affect
one sense; from others, another sense; and that all
bodies are porous to a greater or less extent, and are
severally indued with their specific qualities, affecting
or being affected by different bodies differently; he
argues that, from the magnet as from all other bo-
dies, such minute and specific particles are constantly
emanating; that this emanation dissipates the air
from the space intermediate to the magnet and iron;
and that, a partial vacuum being thus formed, the
ring is immediately propelled, by the air on the other
side of it, towards the magnet, to which it subse-
quently adheres by an invisible bond of union; and
so, in succession, all the other rings are impelled:
the adhesion taking place by some process, as in-
sensible as that which unites glue to wood; mortar
to stone; or the colouring particles of the purple
dye, to wool.”
The observations of Lucretius which relate to the
mineral and vegetable kingdoms are too few, and of
too general a nature, to justify even a cursory com-
parison of them with the present state of science in
those departments: and though Pliny dedicates a
considerable proportion of his Natural History both
to minerals and vegetables, there is nothing suffi-
ciently systematic in his method, or approximating
to the present state of science, to be of any avail for
that purpose. The same remark holds good even
with respect to Theophrastus, not only in the case of
minerals, but of vegetables also. The ancients had
a glimpse indeed of the sexual system of Linnaeus,
* Lib. vi. 906–1088.


INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 223
with reference to the palms; but show no tendency
to a generalization of the observation.
SECTION III.
Opinions of the Ancients on the Organization and
Classification of Animals.
IT appears from what has been said in the pre-
ceding section, that in mineralogy and botany we
scarcely find among the ancients the slightest indi-
cations of those comprehensive systems, in the con-
struction of which the last and present centuries have
been principally instrumental.
Not so in the animal kingdom. In this branch of
science the true principles of classification seem to
have been almost as clearly understood in the age of
Aristotle, as at the present day: and, in order to
enable the reader to judge of the truth of this asser-
tion, I propose to offer a short and cursory analysis
of that work of Aristotle which is entitled IIsei zaw,
‘Izreela;;” comparing it at the same time with similar
modern works, and particularly with that of Cuvier
entitled, “Le Règne Animal, distribué d'après son
Organization,” which was published in Paris in the
year 1817, in four octavo volumes.f
I shall not stop to inquire whether the work of
Aristotle is to be considered as containing the result
of his own observations only, or whether he has
collected into one body all that had been observed
by others as well as himself; which last supposition,
however, is probably the true state of the case. But
* It will be convenient here to state, that the edition to which
references will be made in the following pages is that of Bekker,
Berlin, 1829, 8vo.
f A new edition of this work was published in 1829, but the
preface of the first is retained without any important alteration,
and indeed with scarcely any alteration at all. , Nor are the
alterations, or additions, which have been made in the body of
the work, of such a nature as to affect the present comparison.


224 EXERCISE OF THE
in order to illustrate the magnitude of such an un-
dertaking, and the difficulties attendant on it, even
in the present splendid era of philosophical discovery,
I need only refer to the following acknowledgment of
Cuvier, Aristotle's great rival in this department of
natural science, contained in the preface of the
“Régne Animal.” He there at once confesses, with
reference to his own work, that it would have been
utterly impossible for any insulated individual, how-
ever long his life, and however great his leisure, to
complete a systematic classification of animals on
the principle of conformity of structure (which, it
should be observed, is Aristotle's leading principle as
well as his own;) that he should not even have been
enabled to offer the present simple sketch, had not
the advantages of his situation compensated for his
want of time and talent. Surrounded as he was by
so many accomplished Naturalists; deriving informa-
tion from their works at the moment of their publica-
tion; and having as free access to their collections
as to his own; a great part of his labour necessarily
consisted, he affirms, in the application of so many
and such rich materials to his present essay.
He accordingly acknowledges his obligations to
Geoffroy, Levaillant, Oppel and Blainville, Lacepede,
and Lamarck, in the respective departments of
quadrupeds, birds, reptiles, fish, and testaceous ani-
mals; all which classes of animals are described in
the two first volumes of his work. And he particu-
larly expresses his obligations to Latreille, who
furnished him with the entire third volume of the
“Régne Animal,” containing the arrangement of
crustaceous animals, (lobsters, &c.;) the arachnida,
(spiders, &c.) and insects.” Of his fourth and last
volume he speaks in such brief terms as the nature
of its contents requires: for, inasmuch as it only
contains a compressed account of those animals
whose history is very obscure, either from the mi.
* Preface, p. ix, x.


INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 225
nuteness of their size, or from our ignorance of their
habits and modes of life, it is necessarily very short
in itself, and concise in its details,f
It is clearly immaterial, on the present occasion,
whether the work of Aristotle, which we are about
to examine, be entirely his own, or only a systematic
exposition of the opinions and knowledge of others;
for, on either supposition, it is evidently a representa-
tion, on the authority of which we may fairly rely,
of the general amount of knowledge accessible to the
contemporaries of Aristotle, in that department of
natural science: and as, with even still greater con-
fidence, we may rely on Cuvier's work, as a similar
representation of the existing state of knowledge in
the same department, I may safely refer to it as a
standard of comparison with reference to the know-
ledge and opinions of the moderns.
In attempting to give an account of Aristotle's
views, it is prudent to state that it has been collected
from numerous and various notices distributed very
irregularly throughout the body of his work; so that
it is scarcely possible to be confident of having given
the correct reference in every instance. It is pru-
dent to make this statement, lest any of my readers
should be led, in consequence of an incorrect refer-
ence, to doubt the fidelity of the representation here
given, from the difficulty of meeting with the original
passage. This difficulty is perhaps greater in the
case of Aristotle, at least with respect to the work in
question, than in the case of most other authors, in con-
sequence of what may be called his Pindaric style of
digression; which is occasionally so abrupt as to be
at first view ludicrous. Thus, in comparing the
kidney of the turtle with that of the ox, he suddenly
illustrates his subject by observing that the viscera
of the bonassus also (an animal not very like a
turtle) resemble those of the ox. ('Exe, 38 was 3 83rages
rø ivrºs &rarra, Žuoia gof. P. 45.) And, again, in the
*Preface, p. xi.


226 EXERCISE OF THE
midst of a whole page descriptive of snakes, when
speaking of their cloven tongue, he abruptly says
that the seal (an animal not more like a snake than
the bonassus the turtle) also has a cloven tongue.
("Exit 3i ral pazº isztrułyny rºy yx&rray. P. 48.) It may
however be presumed that, in these, as in many other
instances, not only of this but of many other of his
works, the text has been vitiated or interpolated.
Indeed some of the opinions expressed in the work
are so opposed to the acknowledged physiological
acuteness of its author, that they cannot be consist-
ently admitted to have originated with him: and
such, assuredly, is the solution offered in explanation
of the phenomenon to which allusion is made in the
proverb, del ASwn pigs, ri zawiy: respecting which he
says, “that, in consequence of the want of rain in
Lybia, animals of all kinds congregate wherever
there is water; and that, being rendered tame by
thirst, all those individuals which, though of different
species, are nearly of the same size, and which go
with young for nearly the same period, breed to-
gether, and produce new forms.”
(IIoxvueeqirara, 33 (r3 &2) is rā Algin—3.2 yet rºy &yeº-
8cizy wizyszéal 20xei &rarrávra. ress tº $24rta, zzi r^ º
3444 waz, zz izºfeity 3, of xeive oi rā; zväzia; o; sūrei zai
r& Mºyán º wox &r' &xxâxar ºrgès &xanxa. 5. weativtral 31&
rºy toº rotoi, zeºisy. P. 248.)
With reference to animal life in general, Aristotle
notices the gradual advances made by nature from
the state of inanimate matter to that of living beings;
whence there arises a difficulty in ascertaining the
common boundary of the two divisions. And he
then observes that, in the scale of material existence,
plants immediately succeed to lifeless forms of matter;
and that although among plants the degree of the
living power is “various, some being indued with a
greater portion of it than others; yet, considered
collectively, plants represent as it were a middle
term between animals and all other bodies; appearing
as indued with life, in comparison with all other


INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 229
or set aside by our present knowledge. For no opi-
nion perhaps is more prevalent, among those who
are capable of fairly investigating the characters of
natural objects and phenomena, than that there are
gradations of excellence in the various forms of
matter; although the limits of distinction are often
obscure. Who, for instance, that has compared the
respective structures and qualities of the bodies, can
doubt that the most splendid mineral indicates, hu-
manly speaking, an infinitely less effort of creative
and superintending power than the most simple
vegetable In the mineral we find a perfect simi-
larity, or rather sameness, of character, pervading
all the integrant particles of the mass; the order of
their union being the result of a mere external force,
which, having once brought them together, ceases
to have any further effect. In the vegetable we find
a most curiously arranged system of internal tubes
or pores, which attract and separate the elementary
principles of the soil and of the atmosphere in which
the plant is placed; giving rise to structures the
most wonderful, and, if we contemplate different in-
dividuals of the vegetable kingdom, more variegated
than the mind could have imagined—the bark, the
wood, the leaves, and lastly the flowers, fragrant
with a thousand odours, and emulating the brightest
colours of the rainbow. Or, again, if we compare
the character of the vegetable, fixed to its native
soil, without any inherent power of moving itself,
either totally or partially; insensible to the influence
of those agents which beget a succession of new
feelings and emotions in animals; how contracted
in its sphere of relations must we consider the former
body, when compared with the latter; and how in-
calculably a greater power of creation do the
phenomena of animal organization indicate Gor-
geous as are the lilies of the field, so that even
Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of
these, yet what are they in the effect they produce
on the human mind, compared with the lightning of
U


232 EXERCISE OF THE
("Exit 33 roy {{a, #12 win ºrárta ra. *** raºrè 3xxâxels,
$na 3’ ºriga. Tavr& 3i rā ai, iiºu rô, ºogie, irriv, eia, &-
9;&vew #is zai ºpºsaºs ºvºgºrov fini zai 3962×uº, zai raºzi
rºcł zai ºrrā ārrºr Tày awry, ºi reiro, as irrev zai rº,
*a*ay ºwn, ºre tº tº raúrò Afyºut, isvris' sºcia's yº:
&rarie tº ºxey ºxº wº; tº $Aoy, sai rø, keeſaw #zes carro,
areas carrow. P. 1.)
In comparing the preceding definition of Aristotle
with the corresponding definition of Cuvier, we find
that there is no essential difference. Cuvier says,
“Every organized body has, exclusively of the com-
mon qualities of its tissue, a peculiar or proper form ;
not only generally and externally, but even in the
detail of the structure of each of its parts.” And all
the individuals belonging to one of these defined
forms constitute what is called a species.”f
Aristotle thus defines the term yives. “A genus is
an assemblage of individuals, in which any one
bears, upon the whole, an obviously perceptible re-
semblance to any other. Thus birds and fish consti-
tute two distinct genera; each comprehending several
species. But the corresponding parts, in the different
species of the same genus, usually differ in colour,
form, number, size, or proportion. In different ge-
mera, indeed, the difference of corresponding parts
occasionally proceeds still further; the only resem-
blance being that of analogy, as between a scale and
a feather; a scale being to a fish, what a feather is
to a bird.”
(T& Xi rajrè uí, irrty, 2aºigu 3; ca.9' Jaregex}, xat #A-
Atºw, 3ray ri yive, irri raúráv. Atya º yive; ois, herida ral
izºir rotra, yet ikºrseon get hapegº, sarà rºyáros, zai irri,
tiºn waiia, ix.9%a, raï devišov. Alapíeit * rzºv tº waiia-ra rº,
wegia” is adreſs wage rºº ró, wadsºray inavvićrus, oioſ zººsa-
ros sai rzăuares, tº ré air waxxon airs artwortival re 3:
* Chaque corps organisé, outre les qualités communes de son
tissu, a une forme propre, non-seulement en général et à l'exté-
rieur, mais jusque dans le détail de la structure de chacune de
ses parties. Tom. i. p. 16.
t Bt tous les étres appartenans à l'une de ces formes consti-
tuent ce que l’on appelle une espèce. Tom. i. p. 19.


INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 233
3rror, ºr 2; wańºu zal ºxydrart rai utyłęs, zal autzeirºt, rai
3xas ºrigezi zai ixatiºn. P. 1. 'Axx' & tirii ră ºxsiera.
zai it. 3, wieży 3 was ºvze; ºvirrºxir, raúrá irri, º biaºgº
reis ivarrious zzi xzº' Wrigozºv 22: Axiºpſy.—"Evia 3: Tów Cºw,
oërs iſºst rº wiela rajrā Āze, ºr zaº' Jºséex}, xa, #axirbºr,
*xxx xar' &va»oyſay, oioſ wereºty—re's writºr xiris' 3 Yêe
iſ $8,19, arregºr, retire is izºti izri xiwi. P. 2.)
ut although Aristotle uses the term yives, in its
primary sense, as applicable to an assemblage of dif-
ferent species having a general resemblance to each
other; he extends it indefinitely, so that it is practi-
cally applicable to the modern and more comprehen-
sive terms of tribe, family, order, or even class : for,
as we have just now seen, he distinctly applies it to
the class of fish, and of birds. And it is remarkable
that he sometimes uses the term zºos as synonymous
with tºos, or even a still lower denomination; imply-
ing, that is, merely an accidental variation in a
species.
The following are instances of an undefined use of
the term yíres. Having spoken of red-blooded and
vertebrated animals, he adds, ra 3: Aouza yin røy Čás,
irri ki zirraga 3 hºnºra is Yíwú (p.104,) in which passage
wires is first equivalent either to the species or to the
genus; and afterwards to the order, or to the class, of
modern zoologists. In another passage he says,
siz: 3; yírn rā, ºxirr㺠waite; (p. 287,) where yives is evi-
dently used as sibes. - -
Aristotle was quite aware of the necessary con-
nexion between the blood, or a fluid analogous to it,
and the life of an animal. “Every animal,” he says,
“possesses a vital fluid, the loss of which occasions
its death:” (ixes 3; ca. Jyed rurz rā, śow, *, ºrietºxiºivor-
49; cerat, p. 7,) and as the colour of this fluid in the
higher classes of animals is always red, (irri 33 rêy pāri,
Tº aius—izer—rº zºua isvęgé', p. 75.) hence, for the
purpose of distinctive description, he assumes the
colour as an essential quality; and calls those animals
which have red blood ratua, and those which have
not red blood &vatºa. And thus he establishes a fun-
U 2


234 ExERCISE OF THE
damental natural division, answering to the red-
blooded and white-blooded animals of modern zo-
ology: and it is of great importance, with reference to
his principle of classification, to bear in mind that he
places the valua, or red-blooded animals, in the upper
part of his scale.
Aristotle was also aware that there is a natural
connexion between the existence of red blood, and of
a spine or back-bone, made up of several distinct
portions called vertebrae; (zárta. 3% ra. Ǻa, Goa fraud
ão-ray, *zil #4xº, p. 66, otyxiata, 3’ #4xt; i. oºoyºxov, p.
65.) and he saw, consequently, the coincidence of
these two conditions in the classification of animals:
and hence we find vertebrated animals occupying the
first division in his scale, as well as in the scale of
modern naturalists; though, in consequence of his
desultory method of treating the subject, it requires
some care to ascertain the order of his arrangement.
Aristotle begins his work with some observations
on the characters of the different component parts
of the bodies of animals (and these are subsequently
repeated in a more detailed form,) which forcibly
remind us of the tissues of modern anatomy:* “of
the component parts of animals,” he says, “some
are of the same texture throughout: of which the
most general are the blood, and the blood-vessels—
the flesh—bone—skin—membranes—hair—fat,” &c.
*Anticipations of modern physiological opinions are occasion-
ally observable in Galen also. Thus the following passage
clearly contains the germ of Bichât's doctrine of organic sensi-
bility. “In vegetables there is a peculiar power of sensation,
by which, though incapable of sight, or hearing, &c. they are
capable of distinguishing between those particles of matter
which will nourish them, and those that will not; attracting the
one, and rejecting the other.”
("Erskiy irri yiros aizéârta; in rei, ºvtsi–sºrs yºf raw
searðr, oëri rā, ºxovatizār 2. r. A. ixit 3idyvazir, 3xx& wire,
rºy refºu, whvetºur 3vaginar rā ai, yet répuſ ºvéuers
ºrgºs isvrā, śaxevra K. r. A. atra Saxxis reë; r. sixtier rās re-
£erºzs ºriºs. 7& 2: Ash vºna répiº ow wearirrat-
GALENI Op. Kühn, vol. iv. p. 764.)


236 EXERCISE OF THE
analogy of their uses, or the peculiarities of their
colour,” &c.
Anwrāo ?: reºre, rº ºften rā, śay ié 39 rvárruxey. Karº
7&e rative, ºxto-ra zai we&ra, 324 ige, ral tº ºxa, rà ra
wi, Zuº re. 2: * *zeta, tº 8tors, cai tº réu, º zai care re;
signºras weirsee, 2124.06%, tiº zai Jºséez; xas? &raxo~ix zai
tów waſnºzórðy inayrièrari. P. l 1.
In the same philosophical spirit, and in terms not
essentially different, Cuvier affirms that, in the at-
tempt to establish a natural classification, “he ex-
amined one by one all the species that he could pro-
cure; and then classed together as a subordinate ge-
meric group all those which, resembling each other
in the more important parts of their structure, diſ.
fered only in size, or in colour, or in other points of
little importance.” (J'ai examiné une à une toutes
les espèces que j’ai pu me procurer en nature; j'ai
rapproché celles qui ne différaient l’une de l'autre
que par la taille, la coleur, ou le nombre de quelques
parties peu importantes, et j'en ai fait ce que j'ai.
nommé un sous-genre. Pref. p. xii.)
In the examination of the component members of
animals in general, Aristotle selects man as a stand-
ard of comparison; alleging as a reason, that, as
merchants estimate the value of foreign coin by a
comparison with that of their own country, because
best known to them; so in making a classification of
animals we naturally employ man as a standard, be-
cause we are more familiar with the human form
than with that of any other animal.
(néâroy 2: tº toº &reedºrov ºften xºrrior &azee yee tº re-
*ſºara, ºre?; tº aireſ; carrow yºaeºtarov 2extuatºevºr, esra.
2% mal in rois &axoi, 3' 3,964 was rô, &ay yºaeºdºra roy ºf
ić ºvá wºn; irriv. P. 11.)
And, man being admitted as the standard of com-
parison, it necessarily follows that as a general rule,
viviparous animals, birds, reptiles, and fish, would
respectively come next in succession: and that or-
der, as we have just seen, Aristotle actually ob-
serves. In one instance, indeed, he for a specific


INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 237
reason inverts the order of arrangement; and, com-
mencing with those animals which least resemble
man in their organization; and proceeding with those
which bear a nearer and nearer resemblance to
him; he terminates his description with man, as
having the most complicated structure of all animals.
(’Ezril 2; ºffenrai raº Yin reºrov, rºy agrº, reiro, zai ºr
wugaráoz wouiſvęat rºw ºwgiar wał, wärs air rºy &exº~ wateiusda.
ºxazoºrts; nigi rān algº, 3r' *706&rov, röy 3i regi rotºrov re-
Asvrator Aix rid, 22 tº waiiara, #zii, weaywartieſ. P. l l 2.
And he then enumerates the several classes in the
following order; “animals having a hard shell; ani-
mals having a soft shell; mollusca, or animals of a
soft substance throughout ; insects; fish; birds; ovi-
parous and viviparous quadrupeds; and man:” by in-
verting which order we arrive at a correct view of
his original arrangement.
(IIgºro, 3’ &exrio, 37 rā, śargaze?iguay, utrº; 3% rajra
ºrig: tá, waxanerrézay, zai tº kaxa. Si retro, rºw reiro,
ibºis' ºr 3: ré rºaxézia kai rā āroad, zai utra raira rà
tà, ix.8%ay yávez, ro ri &orizoy zai tº $orizoy airón, stra, ri
røy 36Viðar ºra, 23 razºra, regi rā, ºrić6, Atzrºy, 3ra re ººo-
rixa, xa, ºra ºoriza. Čeoriza 3’ irri ré, rirearoëwy ina, zal
#véeares róv 3ráðay advoy. P. l 12.)
It is remarkable that, from the age of Aristotle to
nearly that of Linnaeus, no systematic classification
of animals was attempted; none, at least was gene-
rally adopted. Soon after the commencement of
the last century Linnaeus directed his attention to
the subject; and distributed the whole animal king-
dom into six classes, mammalia, birds, reptiles, fish,
insects, and worms: in which distribution Lamarck
observes that he improved on Aristotle, first, by
using the more distinctive term mammalia, and
placing the cetacea in that class; and, next, by mak-
ing a distinct class of reptiles, and arranging them
between birds and fish. If this alteration, which has
been subsequently adopted by all other zoologists,
be made, Aristotle's arrangement of vertebrated
animals agrees with that of the present day. And
in distributing all other animals into four classes,


240 : EXERCISE OF THE
therefore divided into several families.” And of one
of these families, the marsupialia, to which the opos.
sum and kanguroo belong, he observes, that “ the
the genera of that family might form a distinct order,
so very peculiar is their structure.”f And on another
occasion he adds, with respect to this same family,
that “although the various species so closely re-
semble each other in many points as for a long time
to have been classed in one genus only; they yet
differ so widely in their feet, and teeth, and organs
of digestion, that, considered with reference to those
parts, they might be distributed, not into one but
several orders;f-and might constitute even a sepa-
rate and parallel class of mammalia.”
In addition to the natural groups, enumerated in
the distribution above described, Aristotle, refers to
a few marine animals which principally belong to
the zoophytes of Cuvier, without comprehending
them under a distinct name. Of that extensive class
of animals, called at the present day polypes, which
are the fabricators and inhabitants of every variety
of coral, he says nothing: and of that still more ex-
tensive class, if the term class be not too confined,
the animalia infusoria, he was almost necessarily
ignorant; most of the species being microscopic.
* “Les Carnassiers.-Leurs formes et les détails de leur or-
ganisation varient beaucoup—au point qu'il est impossible de
ranger leurs genres sur une même ligne, et que l'on est obligé
d'en former plusieurs familles qui se lient diversement entre
elles par des rapports multipliés.” Tom. i. p. 121.
# “Les Marsupiaux—pourraient presque former un ordre à
part, tant ils offrent de singularités dans leur économie.” Tom.
1. - -
“Malgré une ressemblance générale de leurs espèces entre
elles, tellement frappante, que l’on n'en a fait long-temps qu'un
seul genre, elles different si fort parles dents, par les organes de
la digestion et parles pieds, que si l’on s'en tenait rigoureuse-
ment à ces caractères, il faudrait les répartir entre divers or-
dros.” P. 170.
“On dirait, en un mot, que les marsupiaux forment une
classe distincte, parallèle à celle des quadrupedes ordinaires.”
P. 171.


INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 241
It appears, from a few scattered notices, that Aris-
totle had a faint idea that the specific characters and
dispositions of animals might be altered, from the
effect of food and other circumstances: (16, &#ay rôy
rsrcard?ay roax}, ai x&gal rototal biaſpoº, ow ºzºvoy re?; tº
24xxx, roń waſ caros súnºseizy &Ax2 xal are?; tº watováxis 3xt viz.
was rai yiryāv. P. 122. "Ora win ºr waxazºº ºxes r&s reixas,
stºoziz zº&iva. ox^ngorica; irzai, 3 ra. 3; cºxzé2; *axazarigaº
zai ixárrows. Alapítovº, 33 was card row, rāzovs rows stuo-
ráčovs ral ºbv2éoráčevº. P. 68. 'Eviors yivira rā, coyozºav
#x ºxévay re zai wixarrica, Atwº-ix 3: röy Atwków yºvá, oùx
3rra, sis ºftway ºra&4xxov. P. 71.) And he mentions
particularly one instance of this kind, though his
reasoning on the occasion is not admissible in the
present state of physiological knowledge. In ob-
serving that, “as the actions of animals are deter-
mined by their natural affections and physical
powers, so their moral habits, and even some of
their physical characters, are capable of being alter-
ed by their actions;” he says, that “the common
hen, if she have fought with and vanquished the
cock, will begin to crow, and to imitate the cock in
various ways; and her comb will increase, and her
plumage alter to such a degree as to make it difficult
to determine whether she be really a hen: even
spurs, though small, will sometimes grow on her
legs.”
('Qazig 33 rº, w84%us zarº ra. wºn avagainst notázéal
rāzi roi; ºols, oùra réal, zai tº #64 ºsta S4xxova's rate tº:
rečus, woxx4xt; 28 ca, röy weeſaw #12, oio, ixi rāy 3ézièwy
vvuòalyst. Aſ rs 'yee &xixteeſ?is 3ray viºra's rov; *ege was,
zoxxwºovai rºwoweval rows &égiva; *al 3xºtiv wiztigoºrt, wai
ré rs x4xxstoy #eigeras a drai, cai tº ovºortytow, &cre º fix-
3ia's 2, iriyyāya, ºr 64xitzi tiriy’ inizi; }; ral waizrgé riva.
Azizé2 izarárru. P. 302.)
he fact is nearly as Aristotle states it; and, to a
certain extent, similar facts are observable in the hu-
man species as well as in other animals; namely, that
the peculiar characters of the female are occasion-
ally obscured, with respect both to the physical form
and the moral habits. But, in reasoning on the
X


242 ExERCISE OF THE
phenomena, Aristotle mistakes the effect for the
cause. The circumstance of having fought with the
cock is not the determining cause of the change in
the external form of the hen: but the alteration itself
in the external form is dependent on, or at least co-
incident with an imperfect developement, or a sub-
sequent alteration, of the internal structure; which
imperfect developement or subsequent alteration de-
termines that degree of masculine courage which
prompts the hen to fight, and to imitate the male in
other actions.
And so it sometimes happens that, in females of
the human species, the feminine form is either never
originally developed, or, by age or other causes, be-
comes so much altered as to lose its usual characters;
(yvrº 2: ra; iri re vertie od pâu rhizºs' way ºrial; Yiyverra,
3xival, ºra, ra rarauávia arº. P. 70.) And, correspond-
ently with these exterior traces of virility, there is
often in such cases a masculine temperament of the
mind, which marks the character of the virago.
And, on the other hand, from analogous causes ana-
logous changes are found to take place in the male
of our own species, or of any species nearly resem-
bling our own: for, in such instances, the tone of
the voice and the general form of the body acquire
a feminine character; and that firmness and resolu-
tion, which belong naturally to the male, subside to
a greater or less degree into a feminine gentleness.
Aristotle, then, had no philosophical notion of the
laws which regulate the occasional variation in the
specific form of animals; much less of the limits of
that variation: for the accurate developement of
which, the scientific world, and more than the
scientific world, are deeply indebted to the skilful
researches and correct reasonings of Cuvier; whose
fame will rest securely on this natural and imperish-
able basis, when his own and all other artificial
systems of classification, for artificial we can see
them to be even in the present state of our know-
ledge, will probably have been overturned by the


INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 243
force of those new views of nature, which must ne-
cessarily result from the contemplation of the nu-
merous and varied phenomena which are rapidly
accumulating in this department of knowledge. The
field, indeed, in which Cuvier has laboured, with
such advantage to science as well as honour to
himself, is the investigation of the conditions which
accompany the developement of individual and spe-
cific form: and the result of his labours has afforded
a splendid instance of the wonderful effect which the
powers of the human mind are capable of producing,
in a subject apparently of the least intrinsic interest
and of the most unpromising aspect. The explana-
tion of his views which I shall now attempt to offer,
while it may tend to make known the particular
merits of this philosopher to a class of readers, who
at present are acquainted with little more of him
than his great name, will certainly accord with the
general object of this treatise.
In the preliminary discourse of his work entitled
“Ossemens Fossiles,” he states that the great prin-
ciple in the study of comparative anatomy is this—
that in every animal the several parts have such a
mutual relation, both in form and function, that if any
part were to undergo an alteration, in even a slight
degree, it would be rendered incompatible with the
rest; so that if any part were to be changed, all the
other parts must undergo a corresponding change:
and thus any part, taken separately, is an index of
the character of all the rest. This law of the co-
relation of parts is indeed so defined, that even a
portion of a bone may often serve to verify the
species of the animal to which it belonged (p. xlv.)
We know how successfully Cuvier has applied the
foregoing principle in establishing the true character
of fossil species, of which the imperfect remains, or
fragments of remains, are both few and of rare
occurrence. The permanency however of specific
character does not hold in every part of the organi-
zation; and hence there is an occasional impediment


INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 245
exceeding the limits above described, been perpetu-
ated from the creation.
From various circumstances, however, as has been
already stated, the offspring never exactly resembles
the parent; and by the extension of those causes
which occasion a difference of character, the varia-
tion from the common parent may possibly become
so great, and so permanent in individuals of the same
species, as to exceed in some respects the difference
observable in individuals of different species. Such
appears to be the fact, when, in the dog species, we
compare the greyhound with the turnspit; or the
Newfoundland-dog with the Blenheim spaniel: and
yet, even in such instances, which perhaps may be
considered as comprising the extreme limits of varia-
tion, the specific character is never so far obscured,
but that a child who had been accustomed to see a
variety of dogs, and also of other animals, would
recognise the character of the dog in each individual
of that species.
It is true, indeed, that it would be difficult not only
for a child, but even for the most experienced obser-
ver, to define those characters by which the specific
resemblance is recognised upon a transient view of
the animal. Yet, although not obvious on a super-
ficial examination, nature has not left this point un-
definable: for, in almost every instance, the form and
number of the bones are so accurately preserved,
that, however the colour, or the size and the general
form of the body may be altered, we have satisfac-
tory criteria of the species in the points just men-
tioned. But, of all the constituent parts of the body,
this observation holds most eminently with respect to
the teeth: and in the case of quadrupeds, which
rincipally constitute the highest class of the animal
É. and in which class alone any considerable
degree of variation is likely to be observed, we have
almost always a ready mode of judging of the identity
of specific character by an examination of the teeth;
for they in almost every instance have teeth, which
x 2


INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES, 247
hind foot.* And in the human species, in the indi-
viduals of which, from their varied intercourse and
modes of living, the limits of variation may antece-
dently be expected to have the widest range, there
are families having six fingers.
In concluding this part of the subject, I would
observe that the principle, which we have just now
been examining, is of very great importance as the
basis of a physiological argument with reference to
the identity of the human species throughout the
world. For, inasmuch as all the variations in co-
lour, form, and size, of the different nations of man-
kind, come within the acknowledged limits of spe-
cific variation in the animal kingdom, we have hence
satisfactory physiological proof that all the varieties
of the human race may have proceeded from one
common parent. Of the truth of the general posi-
tion indeed, of which the human species is a parti-
cular instance, the work of Aristotle now under
consideration is in itself a strong argument: for,
notwithstanding the lapse of ages which has taken
place since it was written, the description of many
species is so accurate, as to leave no doubt of the
identity of those described by Aristotle with those
to which the description is applicable at the present
day.f
* Ann. du Mus, tom. xviii. p. 342. pl. 19.
f It can hardly escape observation, or fail to excite surprise,
that in the work now under consideration, Aristotle usually con-
tents himself with stating facts: he very rarely reasons on their
final causes; thus omitting what Cuvier calls one of the most
beautiful, and useful points in natural history. The following
are, I believe, the only instances in which he deviates from mere
description. He observes, when speaking of fish, that a great
proportion of the spawn of those animals is destroyed in various
ways; and that if this were not the case the species would be-
come too numerous.
(Tº air woxx. 33 oi keeins ºraxárrowzi, tº 3’ &rixxvral
is rº, Wye; ºva. 3’ & irrikariv is reis rāzov, is ois izrizrevvi,
raºra raºrac ti yºe wºrra, ivºre, rauwangi; ºr r yivos #,
izio ray. P. 169.)


248 EXERCISE OF THE
SECTION IV.
On those Animal Forms called JMonsters, or Zusus
JNaturae.
THE subject of the present section is naturally con-
nected with that of the latter part of the preceding:
and, although the occasion neither requires nor
would justify even a brief examination of the laws
which regulate the formation of monsters, or lusus
natura, as they are often called, especially as they
have been lately illustrated by that ardent French
physiologist Geoffroy St. Hilaire; it will not be per-
haps considered impertinent to make a few observa-
tions on those remarkable productions, considered
with respect to one of the probable final causes of
their existence.
The term lusus natura is applied to those natural
productions, which vary in any remarkable degree,
with respect to form, colour, structure, size, &c.
from the general character of the individuals of the
same species. The term literally taken, implies a
sportive effort of the creative power of Nature; and
for the purpose of general description there is no ob-
jection to this term, ºn; as it now is, familiarized
by long continued use. But as we have no ground
for supposing that nature, or, to use the more pro-
per expression, that the providence of the Creator
ever acts without some wise and beneficent purpose,
we must consider the term in a philosophical point
On another occasion he observes, that though the spring is
the general season for propagation, yet occasionally the rule is
set aside; where, for instance, the preservation of the offspring
is the result.
('oeuvrix&rara air own & iri tº rā, tirii, we's rhºzºia, r*.
isgiri, Sea, irrir ow ºn tº warra, ys wouiral rºw sorºv sales,
tº ºx!tiss, 4xxº we's rhy is reophy réſ, rixway is rei; magazevs.
zaſeois. P. 18.1.)


INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 249
of view, as expressing an effect, of the natural cause
of which we are ignorant.
What, then, is the real character of those unusual
productions which are denominated lusus natura, or
monsters; or, in other words, for what end has Pro-
vidence ordained that such productions should be
formed and subjected to our observation? And here,
as has been observed in another part of this treatise,
it will be found, upon even a cursory examination,
that in a lusus natura, the character of the species,
however obscured, is never lost. There is no
ground, in short, for supposing that nature has ever
produced such an individual as a chimera or cen-
taur. And Lucretius's scepticism in this point is
justified on truly philosophical principles; on the dif-
ference namely of the physical constitution of the
horse and of man: the horse at the end of his third
year being full grown, while man is yet almost an
infant; and the horse being decrepit in his twenty-
fifth or thirtieth year, when man is in his full vi-
gour.”
In pursuing this investigation, it would be obvious
to ask, what are the limits which separate a lusus
natura, from the ordinary individuals of the same
species? and we shall soon find that these limits are,
in the majority of instances, undefinable.
If, indeed, in comparing the several organs, agree-
ment with respect to number be the criterion, the
limits are for the most part fixed. Thus the human
hand so very Fº consists of five fingers, that
an instance of an individual having more or less
than five fingers would be justly esteemed an in-
stance of a lusus natura. But even number is not
always an acknowledged criterion; for, with respect
* Sed neque Centauri fuerunt, neque tempore in ullo
Esse queat duplici natura, et corpore bino
Ex alienigenis membris compacta potestas–
Principio, circum tribus actis impiger annis
Floret equus, puerhaudduaquam, &c.—
Lib. W. 876–889.


250 ExERCISE OF THE INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES.
to the teeth, though thirty-two is the usual number
in the human subject, yet the instances of persons
having only twenty-eight are so frequent, that we
can scarcely class them as deviations from the com-
mon law.
But if size, or colour, or form be made the crite-
rion, we evidently cannot then fix the limits; for in
all these points there is an endless variety in indi-
viduals of the same species: so that it might perhaps
be truly asserted, that out of the countless myriads
of human beings that inhabit the earth, may even out
of all that have existed since the creation, no two
individuals would be found to resemble each other,
exactly, in even any one of those points. And in
this wonderful diversity the infinite power of the
Deity is distinctly manifested: for, in the exercise of
human skill, the most accomplished artist, as soon
as he ceases to copy an actual individual, falls into
that general similarity of outline by which we are
enabled to ascertain his style upon the first view.
If, in the pursuit of our inquiry, we appeal to the
distribution of the internal organs of the body, we
shall find, that though with respect to many the po-
sition is determinable with considerable precision,
yet with respect to others, the smaller veins and ar-
teries, for instance, the variation is endless. But—
and this most highly deserves our attention—if we
consider the uses of the parts with reference to the
precision of their position, we shall find, that the po-
sition of those is most constant, the uses of which
are most important; while the distribution of those
parts, the position of which may differ to a consider-
able extent without inconvenience to the individual,
is found to be continually varying.
Now as this law of deviation from the usual struc-
ture does not seem at all to depend on the construc-
tion of the parts themselves; and as the result is ne-
cessarily connected with the well-being, and even the
life, possibly, of the individual; we cannot consider
this result as the effect of chance, or want of design:


252 CONCLUSION.
part of the air, which alone can support the breath
of life; and which is demanded for that purpose
during almost every moment of his existence. We
have seen that from the same source are derived
those universal and important agents, water and
heat and light, which are equally though not so im-
mediately necessary, as air, to the wants of man.
We have seen again, that the mineral kingdom,
though it does not directly contribute to the support
of life, yet in the form of natural soils sustains the
growth of every kind of vegetable; and that on the
nutriment derived from this source all animal life
essentially depends: we have seen that the same
source also supplies those various metallic and earthy
bodies, the uses of which are most extensive and im-
portant in promoting many of the arts of civilized
society. And, lastly, that the advantages derivable
from the vegetable and animal kingdoms are, eventu-
ally, neither of less extent and importance, nor their
adaptation to the physical condition of man less ob-
vious, than those of the mineral and atmospherical.
It would have been easy to demonstrate that an
equally obvious but infinitely more important har-
mony exists between the external world, and the
moral condition of man, as between that world and
his physical condition: but this province had been
assigned to others; and all systematic reference to
thatharmony has therefore been studiously avoided—
though the constantly recurring difficulty has been
to abstain from such a demonstration.
But, it may possibly be observed, both the physical
and moral relations of man are inevitably soon cut
short by death: and though, in many instances,
societies continue to be benefited through successive
ages in consequence of the efforts of individuals, who
have long since ceased to live, yet in many instances,
on the other hand, the memorial not only of indivi-
duals, but of nations also, entirely perishes; and all
things apparently proceed, as if those individuals
and nations had never existed.


CONCLUSION. 253
Shall we then, in concluding this treatise, simply
admit the existence of that harmony, the illustration
of which was its professed object; and in admitting
that existence shall we at the same time express our
gratitude to that Power, which has thus amply pro-
vided for the physical wants of man, and for the
developement of his intellectual faculties? That
indeed would have been incumbent on us under any
circumstances; and without any qualification arising
from the partial occurrence either of disease, or fa-
mine, or any other form of physical evil.
But, since they, to whom this treatise is addressed, .
are conscious that some ulterior cause exists for the
adaptation of the external world to the nature of
man, beyond the transient supply of his physical
wants, or even the exercise of his intellectual facul-
ties; to have exhibited the bare fact of that adapta-
tion, without some reference to its final cause, would
have been to leave the whole argument without its
just conclusion.
Avoiding however the presumption of speculating
on the nature of a future state of existence, we may,
without any impropriety, assert, on the authority of
revelation, that the happiness or misery of that state
will depend much on the use we have made of that
external world which surrounds us; and will coincide
with the prevailing character of those habits which
we have contracted in this life.
This then is the sum of the whole argument. The
Creator has so adapted the external world to the
moral as well as the physical condition of man, and
those two conditions act so constantly and recipro-
cally on each other, that in a comprehensive view
of the relation between the external world and man,
we cannot easily lose sight of that most important
connexion. And, if we extend our views to a future
life, we are taught that the moral state, which has
been induced by our prevailing animal or intellectual
habits in this life, will be continued and perpetuated
eternally in the next—“that in the place where the
y


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A PPEND IX.
HAVING considered in the preceding pages the general opinions
of Aristotle respecting the physiology and classification of animals,
I propose in this Appendix to make a selection from his descrip-
tions of some natural groups and individual species of animals, for
the purpose of comparing them with the corresponding descriptions
of Cuvier; confining myself, however, exclusively to the mamma-
lia, which constitute the first class of vertebrated animals. . And,
as an introduction to that selection, I shall prefix a comparative
view of the observations of the same two authors on some points
connected with the general physiology of animals; presenting the
whole in the form of two parallel columns, as the most convenient
mode of exhibiting the comparison. In each column I shall en-
deavour to give a #. but faithful translation of the original pas-
sages, followed by the original passages themselves.”
owever extensive may have been the information of the ancients
in that department of natural science which is now under considera-
tion; and however capable a mind like that of Aristotle must have
been of deducing general conclusions from a systematic examination
of facts, sufficiently numerous and various, for the purpose of effect-
ing a natural classification of animals, it could not reasonably be ex-
pected that, antecedently to the knowledge of the circulation of the
blood, and of the true character of respiration, and also of the phy-
siology of the absorbent and nervous systems, a natural classifica-
tion could have been accomplished on principles so satisfactory as
at the present day. And those individuals pay a very absurd ho-
mage to antiquity, who, on occasions like the present, would place
the pretensions of the ancients upon an equality with those of the
moderns: for the question does not regard the original powers of
the mind, but the amount of accumulated knowledge on which
those powers are to be exercised; and it would indeed be extraor-
dinary, if, inverting the analogy of individuals, the world should
not be wiser in its old age, than it was in its infancy.
In comparing, then, the zoology of Aristotle with that of the
* In order to abridge as much as possible the number and length of the extracts,
I have occasionally merely stated a conclusion drawn from several separate para-
graphs. In such instances I must claim credit for having rightly understood, and
fairly represented, the context.
Y 2


258 APPENDIX.
moderns, it has not been my intention to prove that the classifica-
tion of the one is built upon equally clear and extensive demon-
strations as that of the other; but to show, as in harmony with the
general object of this treatise, that, even in the very dawn of
science, there is frequently sufficient light to guide the mind to at
least an approximation to the truth—to a much nearer approxima-
tion, indeed, than could have been antecedently expected by those
who are not accustomed to reflect philosophically on the unifor-
mity of the laws of nature. Thus, as has been already mentioned,
the advancement of science has shown the existence of such a ge-
neral coincidence and harmony of relation between the several
component parts of an individual animal, that even a partial ac-
quaintance with the details of its structure will frequently enable
the inquirer to ascertain its true place in the scale of organization.
And hence, although Aristotle knew nothing of the circulation of
the blood, or of the general physiology of the nervous system, and
even comparatively little of the osteology of animals, yet subse-
quent discoveries have scarcely disturbed the order of his arrange-
ment. He placed the whale, for instance, in the same natural di-
vision with common quadrupeds, because he saw that like them it
is viviparous, and suckles its young, and respires by lungs and
not by gills; and with viviparous quadrupeds it is still classed:
the circulation of its blood, as well as the arrangement of its nerv-
ous system, being essentially the same as in that class of animals.
And, notwithstanding the difference of its form, its osteology,
which holds an analogy throughout with that of quadrupeds, is
the same actually in a part where it would be least expected: for,
with the remarkable exception of the sloth, all viviparous quadru-
peds have exactly seven cervical vertebrae, and so has the whale;
whereas fish, to the general form of which the whale closely ap-
proximates, having no neck, have no cervical vertebrae; and the
deficiency of the neck in fish was recognised by Aristotle."
GENERAL PHYSIOLOGY.
Jiristotle. Cuvier, Tom. I.
In some animals there is a | Every organized body has its
mutual resemblance in all their peculiar form; not only generally
parts; as the eye of any one man|and exteriorly, but even in the
resembles the eye of every other|detail of the structure of each of
man: and it is the same with re-lits parts; and all the individuals
spect to the constituent parts of which agree in the detail of their
horses, or of any other animals, structure are of the same species.
which are said to be of the same
species: for in individuals of the
same species each part resembles *
* Aixtra 3 o'el;;zu izgºs. P. 40.


260
APPENDIX.
Järistotle.
food: but in some animals these
parts are wanting.
Mira 3i rajra, *xxx xeira.
wiela igu ra arxārra rºw ºwn
weis rewrots, # 34 ſºrt tº ºrigit-
tapea rºg reºpºs—ow 'yae zrāvuy
irãext roore. P. 6.
There are fibres of the peculiar
kind in the blood; by the remo-
val of which that fluid is pre-
vented from coagulating; but if
they are not removed, it does co-
agulate. And through defect of
these fibres the blood of the deer
and of some other animals does
not coagulate.
"Err bi zai &axo yáves irº, 3
wire ral wiy in aftarr–3, ižai-
govºſvay is roº *res of rāy-
yvrai rā ai,x*, i&; 3: Azº ičage-
gårt, rºyyvra. P. 64. 'Ew air
oi, tº 16v waiia-ray aftºrs ºwy
#uri, i. 2; rº rº, ix.4900 xat
weex}; zai Sovéaxide; zai &axw
rivă, cºx intrº iris' 3% ral od
wāywrai air&n rê aiwa weia's
raig &axois, &Axe rà air rā, śāz-
4|ay wagerxyzia, tº rà, 2arv-
arážov.* P. 65.
The particular senses are five
in number, sight, hearing, smell,
taste, and touch. Of these the
sense of touch is alone common
Cuvier, Tom. I.
Il n'y a que les derniers des
animaux ou les excrémens res-
sortent par la bouche, et dont
l'intestin ait la forme d'un sac
sans issue. P. 41.
The blood contains a principle
called fibrine; which, within a
short time after the blood has
been withdrawn from the body,
manifests itself in the form of
membranes or filaments.
(Le fluide nourricier, ou le
sang)—contient la fibrine et la
élatine presque toutes º:
se contracter et à prendre les
formes de membranes ou de fila-
mens qui leur sont propres, du
moins suffit-il d’un peu de repos
pour qu’elles s'y manifestent. P.
27.
The most general external
sense is that of touch; its seat
is the surface of the whole body.
Many animals are without the
* It is deserving of notice, that the animals whose blood is said not to coagulate are
such as are usually killed in hunting; and it is understood by physiologists in general,
that excessive exercise and violent mental emotions, both which occur in hunted ani-
mals, prevent the blood from coagulating.
Two of the species here mentioned by Aris-
w a -
totle (re?: and 3&ntrov; or Aayaºs) are mentioned by Homer as commonly
hunted:
> / a 3/
-acylvazzoy wºol 3,265;
Aiyas in ºveoricas, #3: weixas Hºi Aayats
DYSS. P. 259.


ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED.
263
.Aristotle.
As man possesses contrivance,
and wisdom, and comprehension;
so some animals possess a cer-
tain natural power, which, though
not the same as, in some respects
resembles, those faculties.
‘oº yºe is 3,664.ºrg rizºn zai
zoºie: zai vivºrs, ºra; ivious
ró, ºar irri ri; iriea totairn
Øvrix; 29,auts. P. 212.
All animals which have red
blood have a spine or back-bone:
but the other parts of the bony
system are wanting in some spe-
cies, and present in others. The
spine is the base or origin of the
bony system: it is composed of
vertebrae, which are all perforat-
ed; and extends from the head to
the hips: and the cranium is a
continuation of its upper or ante-
rior extremity.
º ºw */
IIdyra 3: tº Ǻa 3ra value:
> - V v2 *
irri, izi, iëzy—rº 3’ &xxa uá-
gua, rö, ärró, inique ºf irriv,
• 3” cºx # P > w
twºol; owz garriv. P. 66. Aéxh
- - - 3/
2: ; ;4xt; irri, is rāori rai, #xov-
win 3rrá. "üyxeirai 2 # #4x1; in
z r 3. > w -
ºpovºx.oy, rairs, 3’ &r rº, re-
- \ , f
4axis ºftzet we?; re izziz. oiki,
f
•3, ºpérèvao wºrris virenºvo
airly, ºva 93 ro ris cºax; a roºm
/
rvvex; irru roi; irzérous a pow-
- - /
20xots, 3 xzxtirai zęavuoy. P. 65.
Cuvier, Tom. I.
In a great number of animals
there exists a faculty, different
from intelligence, which is called
instinct.
Il existe dans un grand nom-
bre d’animaux une faculté diffé-
rente de l’intelligence; c'est celle
qu'on nomme instinct. P. 53.
The first general division of
animals includes all those which
have a spine or back-bone con-
sisting of separate portions called
vertebrae. The animals of this
division are called vertebrated.
They have all of them red blood:
their body is composed of a head,
trunk, and members: the spine,
which is composed of vertebrae,
having each an annular perfora-
tion, and moveable on each other,
commences at its upper or ante-
rior extremity from the head; the
lower or posterior extremity usu-
ally terminating in a tail.
Dans la première deces formes
[générales.] qui est celle de
l'homme et des animaux qui lui
ressemblent le plus, le cerveau,
&c. sont renfermés dans une en-
veloppe osseuse, qui se compose
du craane et des vertèbres. P. 57.
Nous appelerons les animax de
cette formeles animaux vertébrés.
P. 58. Leur sang est toujours
rouge. P. 63. Leur corps se com-
pose toujours de la tête, du trone
et des membres. L'épine est
composée de vertèbres mobiles
les unes sur les autres, dont la
première porte la tête, et qui ont
toutes une partie annulaire. P.62,
63. Le plus souvent l’épine se
prolonge en une queue. P. 63.


ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED.
265
Jºristotle.
wājy wºreard?” zzi hen; zai
izºs wai xiiros xel-344. P.
42, 43.
Animals of the largest size are
found among those which are red-
blooded. All animals which have
colourless blood are smaller in
size than those which have red
blood; with the exception of a
few marine animals, as some of
the sepiae.*
Totrº 212piest rø aftytº ra.
2.Éva arºs ra. Aoir& ré, ºwy
&ar, ré ré air attºº ra 3’ &via-
p., iival. P. 42. IIávra. 2; ra.
&valua, ixárra rºwiyºn irri rāv
#vailway &ay raß, ;xiva, iv r?
62x4 trºutičova &value ivray,
oio, rā, waxazia, #4a, P. 9.
All red-blooded animals have
the five senses.
*A*gwre; air oºr—zzi &ra tº-
*** zai ºoriza, warra?aitra
ey w z
#xorra, ravra, ºrézas (airéârsts.)
P. 100.
Cuvier, Tom. I.
tortues—serpens—poissons. Tom.
i. 67.-ii. 351.
Wertebrated animals, all of
which have red blood, attain to a
much larger size than those
whose blood is colourless.
C’est parmieux (les animaux
vertébrés) que se trouvent les
plus grands des animaux. p. 62.
Le sangest toujours rouge. P. 63.
Vertebrated animals have al-
ways two eyes, two ears, two
nostrils, the integuments of the
tongue and those of the whole
body.
Les sens extérieurs sont tou-
jours deux yeux, deux oreilles,
deux marines, les tégumens de la
langue, et ceux de la totalité du
corps. p. 64.
MAMMALIA.
..ſºristotle.
No animal which is not vivi-
Cuvier, Tom. I.
The animals of the class mam-
parous has breasts: and even of malia are essentially viviparous;
viviparous animals those only inasmuch as a direct communica-
have them which produce their tion is established between the
young alive at once, without the embryo and the parent immedi-
intervention of an egg. ately after conception.
The milk is not, as the blood | The new-born , offspring is
is, a fluid which animals possess mourished for a time by milk,
* See a curious engraving in Montfort, Hist. Nat des Mollusques, tom. ii. p. 256, re-
presenting a gigantic sepia grasping a ship and its rigging.
Z


266
APPENDIX.
.Aristotle.
from their birth, but a subsequent
secretion; and is contained in the
breasts. And all those animals
have breasts which are essenti-
ally or directly viviparous; as
man, and such quadrupeds as are
covered with hair; and also ceta-
ceous animals, as the dolphin, the
seal, and the whale.
Ośy rôy tº Čºorozoörray
($2t ºarrows,) oś ra (*ore-
zoºvraz ºratºre, &AA’ 3ra idº; iv
adreſs &orexiº xzi º żorozº
ºrgāror. P. 40. Tày 3i (£ew, 3
Aziv ºxº Ǻoroxt? #2, #y airº,
*gºrov $orozºvac. P. 151. Aiaz
#ygow a tºpvré, tort roi; ºots'
warseiyives 9: zai &rozizékévoy
&rarry, 3ra, irº, #sort, tº yºxº
-- y ºf * >y * - 3.
–ez: 33, a was exei to 2/c:Xa, Éy
reſ; was reis, warrow, 3' xit ºra,
&oroxii zai iſ aireſ; a £º, olor
3ra ri reixas #zet, ºwie &fea-
ºrog zai ºrros, zal ra. 24th, oio,
3. Apis zai pazn zai pājaiva' wal
vàe raúra warrow, ºxi, zai yº-
Xaz. P. 77.
MAN.
...Aristotle.
All animals which have limbs
Cuvier, Tom. I.
which is a special and temporary
secretion from the mammae ; or-
gans, so exclusively peculiar to
this class, as to have determined
the distinctive appellation mam-
malia. This class includes all
the common viviparous quadru-
peds; together with the seal, and
the dolphin, and other cetacea.
La génération dans tous les
mammiferes est essentiellment
vivipare; c'est-à-dire que le foe-
tus, immédiatement après la con-
ception, descend dans la matrice,
enfermé dans ses enveloppes—
qui établissent entre lui et sa
mère une communication, d'où il
tire sa nourriture. P. 75, 76.
Les petits se nourissent pen-
dant quelque temps, après leur
naissance, d'une liqueur particu-
lière à cette classe (le lait,) la-
quelle est produite parles mam-
melles—qui ont valu ä cette
classe son nom de mammiferes,
attendu que lui étant exclusive-
ment propres, ellesla distinguent
mieux qu'aucun autre caractère
extérieur. P. 76. De la classe
des mammiferes sont l’homme—
les singes—le cheval—les pho-
ques—le dauphin—les baleines,
&c. P. 79–284.
Cuvier, Tom. I.
The muscles which extend the
resembling those of man, have foot and thigh of man are more
their legs and thighs and hips |powerful than those of any other
sparingly covered with flesh;|animal: and hence the calf of the
whereas in man these parts are leg is particularly prominent.
more fleshy than any other. The part called the pelvis, situ-
|ate between the hips, is alto-
gether proportionally larger in
man than any other animal.
Of all animals man has, in No quadruped has so large a


ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED.
267
Järistotle.
proportion to his size, the largest
brain; and the smallest interval
between his eyes; and the most
delicate sense of touch and of
taste.
No animal but man has its
breasts in the front of the chest;
the elephant, like the human fe-
male, has two breasts, but they
are placed on the side.
No animal but man has the
faculty of articulate speech;
which consists of vowels pro-
nounced by means of the larynx,
and of consonants formed by the
tongue and lips: the dolphin,
therefore, which has a voice in
consequence of its possessing
lungs, and a larynx, cannot ar-
ticulate, because its tongue is not
readily moveable, and it has no
lips.
IIárra 3: tº reregroëa 3-tºn
tº oxian *zi-xal &aaeza—fatt
* x2, &mizza—3 3: &ºeares
toūwarrior wagºn Y26 *ze,
zziº, uéxiata row caſuaro; tº
izzía ral row; ºneous zai tº:
zyńwas. P. 29.
"Ezet 3: (ºyzipaxoſ) &rayra.
%22 ºzen aiuz—zara, ºysée; 3'
éºoſa, º żºgwro; ratio-row #y-
x:4'axoy. P. 19. T & 3’ ºutcara.
#xazirror cata: ºysée; 2.Évrºzºv
3,064x4 rāy ºwy. ixit 3’ &zet-
As a révºy ******os røy aizé%arsay
rºy & phy, Pavršća, 33 rºw yºry.
P. 18, 19.
#4 it odºy is rà
&regaro; 3 º'
-
Mazav, 3’ own.
3 ºw
weivée, ºxx'
Cuvier, Tom. I.
brain as man. His eyes are so
placed as to be necessarily di-
rected only forwards. In the de-
licacy of the sense of taste and
touch man excels all other ani-
mals.
The female breasts are placed
in front of the chest.
He possesses an advantage pe-
culiar to himself in the organs of
voice; for he alone is capable of
uttering articulate sounds; a
power which apparently depends
on the form of his mouth, and the
great flexibility of his lips.
Les muscles qui retiennent le
pied et la cuisse (de l’homme)
dans l'état d'extension sont plus
vigoureux (que ceux d’aucun
mammifére;) d'où résulte la sail-
lie du mollet et de la fesse—le
bassin est plus large. P. 82.
Aucun quadrupède n'approche
de lui pour la grandeur et les
replis des hémisphères du cer-
veau. P. 84. Ses deux yeux
sont dirigés en avant; il ne voit
point de deux cótés à la fois
comme beaucoup de quadrupé-
des. La délicatesse de l'odorat
doit influer sur celle du goût, et
l'homme doit d'ailleurs avoir de
l'avantage, a cet égard, au moins
sur les animaux dont la langue
est revétue d'écailles; enfin, la
finesse de son toucher résulte, et de
celle de ses tégumens &c. P. 85.
Ses mammelles, au nombre de
deux seulment, sout situées sur
la poitrine. P. 88.


ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED.
269
...Aristotle.
Like man they have two mam-
mae on the chest; and their in-
ternal anatomy resembles the
human.
Some of the apes (witnzo)
resemble man in many points, as
to their face: for they have nos-
trils and ears; and both their
front and back teeth not much
unlike those of man.
Oi 33 ºrignºot—iºſovº rows ré-
3a; (#zov'rt') sizi y 26 oio, ztig's
*Yéxa, xal of 34xtoxoi &rarse
oi răzzue&v, 3 ºzo; *axérares,
zzi ré x4 ral roº woº; zuº wotov,
wały iri re ºxo; rô tº zºº;
ini ra. Hazara rivoy, zagãºrte 68-
wag' reiro 3? in 4xeev rºangárs.
goy, zazós zzi &uv?:6; *-
yo' arrieway. 2%gºrzº 23 roi; worly
#x’ **pa, xx; &; zeezi xzi as
worl, zai ovyxºzºrris & wet zºº.
exº-"Exit 28 rai Ágºziovas
**** *res, was, 2-ric
xact z*zrrst zai º ovºrovº zai to:
rzáxn &zzee &yºgaroº-wº; 3:
rewrois zāgas xzi 2xxt{xovs zai
ºvzas *otovº &végéra), xx},
warra, Taºra, ixi tº ºngw3%arseer.
T4 º' &va roß zdra roxi asſºora
#zu, &zzree re reredwox–xx;
214 ri rajra, zai 312 tº roës wé-
3a; #zeſ, suolov, zigzł–3a re-
Aff rºw was is zéévoy rared revy
ºr agaxon # 36%r ral ºr irzia
#xeſ & re-reatºrovyºv. P. 35, 36.
T & 3’ intº; 9tatesºvra. Śweta
#zov” & 364** warra, tº rotag.
ra. P. 36. "Exit 3' is ré rvā0s.
2% ºxas warró, axéâr. P. 35.
Z2
Cuvier, Tom. I.
In the character of their intes-
tines, in the direction of their
eyes, and in the position of their
breasts, they resemble man; and
the structure of their fore-arms
and hands enables them to imi-
tate us in many of their gestures
and actions.
The higher species of apes
have flat nails; and teeth very
much resembling the human both
in number and arrangement, and
also in form: and they have no
tail.
Les quadrumanes diffèrent de
notre espèce par le caractère
très-sensible, que ses pieds de
derrière ont les pouces libres et
opposables aux autres doigts, et
que les doigts des pieds sont
longs et flexibles comme ceux de
la main; aussi toutes les espèces
grimpent-elles aux arbres avec
facilité, tandis qu’elles ne se
tienment et ne marchent debout
qu’avec peine, leur pied ne se
posant alors que sur le tranchant
extérieur, et leur bassin étroit ne
favorisant point l'équilibre, P.
100.
Elles ont toutes des intestins
assez semblables aux nôtres, les
yeux dirigés en avant, les mam-
ſºle. sur la poitrine. P. 100.


270
APPENDIX.
.Aristotle.
Tº 2: weizarov tº woxx3;
**otirara, tº roº 3,863rov wai
was ºverica, & &re retary-
via izu, xzi ºrra; a'ozeg o oxy-
£ewwoº, zal rows areorgiovº zai
rows you plovº. P. 35.
THE HEDGEHOG
.Aristotle.
Porcupines and land-echini, or
hedgehogs, are covered with
spines, which are properly to be
considered in these animals as a
kind of rigid and indurated hair;
for these spines do not serve the
purpose of feet, as they do. in
sea-echini.
Tetzøy yée r iſºo; ºrio, rai
re; ºzavºdºus reizes, oies •ixte-
oraioi ºvºi, izivol xxi oi #2 re-
zis' retz's Yêe zeta, wagºzºv-
ow, &XX of robºy, &rse of rà,
£axarriav. P. 10.
THE MOLE.
.Aristotle.
All viviparous animals have
eyes, except the mole; and even
this animal, although it has nei-
ther the faculty of sight, nor eyes
readily visible, cannot be said to
be altogether without eyes; for
if its skin be taken off, you may
distinguish not only the natural
situation of the eyes, but that
Cuvier, Tom. I.
La liberté de leurs avantbras et
la complication de leurs mains
leur permettent à toutes beau-
coup d'actions et de gestes sem-
blables à ceux de l’homme. P.
101.
Les singes—ont à chaque ma-
choire quatre dents incisives
droites, et à tous les doigts des
ongles plats; deux caractères
quiles rapprochent de l'homme
plus que les genres suivans;
leurs molaires n'ontaussi, comme
les nôtres, que des tubercules
mousses. P. 101.
AND PORCUPINE.
Cuvier, Tom. I.
Hedgehogs have their bodies
covered with quills instead of
hair; and so have porcupines.
Les herissons et les porcé-
pics ont le corps couvert de pi-
quans au lieu de poils. P. 132 et
208.
- Cuvier, Tom. I.
The eye of the mole is so
small, and so concealed by the
skin, that for a long time this
animal was supposed to be with-
out eyes. The blind rat-mole
has no visible trace of external
eyes; but in taking off the skin,
a very small black point is
observable, which appears to


ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED.
271
.Aristotle.
black central part of the eye it-
self in which the pupil is con-
tained; as if these organs had
been imperfectly developed, and
the skin had grown over them.
If the skin, which is thick, be
stripped off from the head, you
may perceive on its inner surface,
and in the usual region, distinct
eyes; which, though small and
shrunk, as it were, have all the
essential parts of those organs,
namely, a pupil placed in the
centre of the black part of the
eye, and that black part sur-
rounded by the white.*
Zgoriza révra(ze. 349axºews)
wasy &raráxazoº, roºroº 2: reira,
**w ruv' *zew 2, 6-in rus, ºxas 3'
• jz izuz. 3xas wiy yee of 6' 36%
oša' $24, ti, r, pavičy 24×ovº 3p-
taxae;’ &paigºrro; 3i re; 9ie-
waroº yºu rāy re zºea, tºy ºutcº-
ray zai rāy 300aagøy tº ºxava
zara rºw réroy zal r}, x&gay rhy
qºast roi; 3902??coſ; drészewºz,
#y rà iºras, dº iv rá yeyºre, ºrn-
govºziva, zai iwipvoºrov toº big-
Accºrog. P. 13. 'Apalestivtos 3:
roº bicuaros $vros razºo; &zrº
räg zeºaxis xara rºy zºea, rhy
#a rā, śauáray irati, tirty of 39-
9axuoi is peacºvot, révr’ i.ey-
rt; rajrø re ºften roi; 4x40%is'
Ézovo, Y26 ré ré učazy zai rā in-
rès re; ºzºavos, rāy waxovºvny
Cuvier, Tom. I.
have the organization of an eye,
without the possibility of being
employed as such, because the
skin passes over it not only in an
entire state, but as thick and as
closely covered with hair as in
any other part of the face. This
may probably be the animal
which, according to M. Olivier,
gave the idea to the ancients of
describing the mole as totally
blind.ſ
Son Ceil est si petit, et telle-
ment caché par le poil, qu'on en
a nié long-temps l'existence. P.
137. Le rat-taupe aveugle—n'a
même point du tout d'oeil visible
au dehors; mais quand on enlève
sa peau, on trouve un très-petit
point noir qui parait organisé
comme un ceil, sans pouvoir ser-
vir à la vision, puisque la peau
passe dessus sans "s'ouvrir ni
s’amincir, et sans y avoir moins
de poils qu'autre part.—Il se
pourrait, commele dit M. Olivier,
qu'il eñt donné aux anciens l'idée
de faire la taupe tout-à-fait aveu-
gle. P. 201.
zágºy, zal tº zvºnioy. P. 100,
101.
* Kvaxártov (p. 101) is evidently synonymous with Asuköy. (p. 12.)
t By an examination of Aristotle's description it is evident that the ancients knew
the true state of the case, namely, that the mole has eyes.


27.4
APPENDIX.
.iristotle.
liquid food. Its intestines have
appendages, presenting the ap-
pearance of four stomachs: and
and it has two mammae placed by
the side of the chest, near the
axillae. The cub of the elephant
sucks with its mouth, and not
with its proboscis.
"Erri 3i wształszrvXer (; ;x*-
Qaz)—ra: Ts rig: rev, **rºys
*}la:#aririga. izi, rº, re?&n.
P. 25. ‘O 3 ixipa; 33irra; *ś,
#xt, rirraga; it'izarks, i. zar.
seyāºrai tº re-pº (xsairs. 2'
&zzie zºna,) zegi, ºi revra,
*Axew; 3% rows wiyáaevs. P. 34.
Tek 3: ixipart, *vºršč 2-ire-
rai cargºs xai izzvºs, zazi zeň-
ºrga air; &rse zuei. wearáyi-
rai re zºº zai Aaºğāvil revrº
zai its r, a riºsa, arger?;&eral rhy
reophy, zai rºy wear zai rā'
£neer, advoy rar &ay. P. 14. 'O
2. ixt?as irrige, get rvuºtatis
#xeſ, &ers pairerêa rérracas
zolaia; #247. P. 47, "Exii. 2;
row; warrows 9d, ºrigi rā; aar-
x4xas–odz iſ tº ºráðst 3xxx
agº; rø wráðsi. P. 30. et 26. "O
3 ordwes & ray yántal, ºnx&s.
r; writzari kai of r3 ºvzrāg.
P. 19 1.
Camper says that in almost all
points the anatomy of the ele-
phant is correctly represented by
Aristotle; the apparent inconsist-
encies arising from his having
dissected a young elephant. Tom.
ii, p. 205, &c.
Cuvier, Tom. I.
their developement. The probos-
cis, terminating in an appendage
like a finger, gives to the elephant
a degree of address equal to that
which the hand of the ape im-
parts to that animal. The ele-
phant uses this proboscis for the
purpose of conveying solid food
or pumping up liquids into its
mouth. The intestines of the ele-
phant are voluminous; it has two
mammae placed under the breast,
and its cub sucks with the mouth,
and not with the trunk.
(Les éléphans) ont cinq doigts
à tous les pieds, bien complets
dans le squelette, mais tellement
encroutés dans la peau calleuse
qui entoure le pied, qu'ils n'ap-
paraissent au dehors que parles
ongles attachés sur le bord de
cette espèce de sabot. P. 228,
229. Deux défenses qui sortent
de la bouche et prennent souvent
unaccroissement énorme. P.229.
Tantôt une, tantôt deux máche-
lières de chaque cété, quatre ou
huit en tout, selon les époques.
P.231. Une trompe cylindrique
—terminée par un appendice en
forme de doigt—donne à l'éle-
phant presque autant d'adresse
que la perfection de la main puet
en donner au singe. Il s'en sert
pour saisir tout ce qu'il veut por-
ter a sa bouche et pour pomper
sa boisson. P. 229. Les intes-
tins sont trèsvolumineux—les
mamelles, au nombre de deux
seulement, placées sous la poi-
trine. Le petit tette avec la
bouche et non avec la trompe. P.
230.


276
APPENDIX.
.4ristotle.
two branches; at four years, more;
Cuvier, Tom. I.
varies according to the age and
and in this way the number ofspecies of the animal.
branches increases till the ani-
mal is six years old ; afterwhich
the number is not increased.
The horn at first grows as it
were in the skin, and has a soft
villous covering; and after it has
attained its full growth the ani-
mal exposes itself to the sun, in
order to ripen and dry up this
covering.
Tere4areèz #raiaa xaiºereza
-sza ui, izri xtgate?éga, evz
àupa 2erré izrir et yàe#zti reò;
zee vºiev; #xi r#; av» via yére ;.
>/ - >/ - - -
#-ri 3 #via evx au pa èevra xazi |
axéeaTa, oiov xaux Aos. P. 32.
Tâ, 2è re rearéôav xai iraiuov
xai .•orézov rà u# #rrt-big-
xi35, xai arri rö, brºxov xnA2s
#xu, ºoxee reººarº xai ai# xai
éxapo; xai Aoûg. P. 29.
Kai rtrraga; #xu évouoias xot-
»ias à òù zai »éye rat unevx4-
(ºuv. P. 46.
T &, d' èxévTa xieas à)' º»ov
uèv ºxº rreeeèv uévov éxapos, r2
3'3Xxa xoixa uºxet rivès, rà
èv xaTov o regº4w. rà uèv o5v xoî-
2 ° » ix ro5 $éeuavos répvxs uax-
Les ruminans-ont l'air d'être
presque tous construits sur le
même modèle, et les chameux
seuls présentent quelques petites
exceptions aux caractères com-
muns. Le premier de ces carac-
tères est de n'avoir d'incisives
qu'à la mâchoire inférieure. P.
246. Tout le reste des ruminans
(excepté les chameux, &c.) a,
au moins dans le sexe mâle,
deux cornes, c'est-à-dire, deux
proéminences plus ou moins lon-
gues des os frontaux. P. 252.
Les quatre pieds sont terminés
par deux doigts et par deux sa-
bots, qui se regardent par une
face aplatie, en sorte qu'ils ont
l'air d'un sabot unique, qui aurait
été fendu. P. 246.
Le nom de ruminans indique
la propriété singulière de ces
animaux, de mâcher une seconde
fois les alimens-propriété qui
tient à la structure de leurs esto-
macs. Ils en ont toujours qua-
tre. P. 247. -
Dans le genre des bœufs, &c.
les cornes sont revêtues d'un
3'|étui-on donne en particulier le
nom de corne à la substance de
cet étui, et lui-même porte celui
de corne creuse. P. 252. Dans
2er reel òè [2]* reºre zreel 4e-
" There can be no doubt from the struct
le genre des cerfs, les proémi-
ure of the horns of oxen, &e. that the rela-
- •A - - -
ºve (º)ought tobe retained and ue Tà xoî»o, ix roô bieuaros is evidently op-


278
APPEN Dix.
.Aristotle.
for they have lungs: and hence,
if caught in a net, and unable to
come to the surface for the pur-
pose of breathing, they are suffo-
eated.
The dolphin utters a kind of
murmur when it is in the air; for
it has a voice, inasmuch as it has
lungs, and an air tube leading to
them; but having no lips, and
its tongue being not sufficiently
moveable, it is unable to utter an
articulate sound.
The dolphin has mammae, not
placed in the anterior part of the
body, but near the vent.
The mildness and docility of
the dolphin are remarkable.
These fish swim in large flocks,
and their swiftness is so remark-
able that they have been known
to spring over the decks of ships.
The cetaceous animal called
mysticetus has no teeth, but hairs
instead, like hogs’ bristles.
As Apis 2i zai paxatva zai rº
**** *śrn, ºra, º zu Agayya,
4x^2 +vvºršča, Ço orozoözty.
'Azazvii. 2; warra goa ext, 40-
wnrºez, zal 9%irst roy &#62.
*A*ova. Y26 #zovruz. P. l 67.
Ato ral Azº&avészewo, º 24xpi; i,
zeit *xrºots &worriyira, raxia's
22 to an ºvaryiv. P. 215.
Cuvier, Tom. I.
able apparatus, from which they
are called blowers, by means of
which they discharge through
their nostrils a large volume of
water which they take into their
mouth with their food. P. 275.
They have no prominent la-
minae in their glottis; and hence
their voice is nothing more than
a simple lowing. P. 276.
Their mammae are placed near
the vent. P. 276.
The general organization of the
dolphin's brain shows that it
possesses the decility usually at-
tributed to it. P. 278.
The common dolphin, which
is found in large flocks in every
sea, and is remarkable for its
swiftness of motion, so that it
occasionally darts over the decks
of ships, appears evidently to be
the dolphin of the ancients. P.
278.
The upper jaw of the balaenae
is furnished with thin transverse
laminae closely set, formed of a
kind of fibrous horn terminating
in a bristly fringe at the border.
P. 284.
Les cétacés se tiennent con-
stamment dans les eaux; mais
comme ils respirent par des pou-
mons, ils sont obligés de revenir
souvent à la surface pour y pren-
dre de l'air. P. 272. Les cétacés
ordinaires se distinguent par l'ap-
pareil singulier qui leur a valu !.
nom commun de souffleurs. C'est
qu’engloutissant, avec leur proie,
de grands volumes d'eau, illeur
fallait une voie pour s'en débar-
rasser; elle s'amasse dans un sac


ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED.
279
Cuvier, Tom. I.
placé à l'orifice extérieur de la
cavité du nez, d'où elle est chas-
sée avec violence-au travers d'
une ouverture percée au-dessus.
de la tête. P. 275, 276.
Il n'y a point de lames saillan-
tes dans leur glotte, et leur voix.
doit se réduire á de simples mu-
gissemens. P. 276.
Leurs mamelles sont prés de
l'anus. P. 276.
Toute l'organisation de son
cerveau annonce que le dauphin
ne doit pas être dépourvu de la
| docilité que les anciens lui attri-
| buaient. P. 278.
| Cet animal, répandu en gran-
| des troupes dans toutes les mers,
et célèbre par la vélocité de son
mouvement, qui le fait s'élancer
| quelquefois sur le tillac des navi-
res, paraît réellement avoir été le
dauphin des anciens. P. 278.
|
Aristotle.
'Aqºinºt 3è xai ， òexpis reiyuè»
•ai av(u, grav i#Aºa, iv r éfet
-irri yae route pov4 #xsi yàe
xai arasvuovx x xt àerneiav, &AAa
z ùv yAarrav ou x dxoxºxvtzºvn»
oöðà xtia» 5o rs &eêee» ri ris pa -
vºs 2rous7 v. P. 1O6.
'o à Apis #xet uao roù* )io, oºz
&va à' &Axa a Angiov Tai» &eºeor.
P. 4O.
T av 3à 6axaazia v rAsio va A4-
2/eTat antes ia zreei roög 3expîv
a eaºTnros xai museéTntos-
3O l.
&g
P.
"Hàn 3'5zrrau òe Aſpivov uey&-
2A60y dy4A» &ux xxi uixe.ºv. Aé-
xerai Ji xai zreei 7 axvr#ros
dévrivra ro5 (ºov &zravaov yae
3oxsi sivat @ov Tézio roº, xai rav
ivº)eav xai rºv xeeoaiw», xxi
barsgaaAorrai à xXeiov usyé»ar
i ovoºs. P. 302.
"E ri òè xai ， uös rà xiiros 3èév-
vas uiv iv r， 7 réuart oüx éxsi
reixas à ºuoias veiats. P. 72
| La mâchoire supérieure-a ses
deux côtés garnis de lames trans-
verses minces et serrées,—for-
mées d'une espéce de corne
fibreuse, effilées á leur bord. P.
284
From the preceding comparison it appears that, with respect to
those points in the history of animals, the knowledge of which was
equally accessible to both writers, the descriptions of Aristotle are
hardly inferior in accuracy to those of Cuvier.
Nor does this ob-
servation hold with reference to the more common animals only: it


280 APPENDIX.
is equally remarkable with reference to those which are of compar-
ative rarity; in support of which assertion I would refer, among
other instances, to the description of the sepia, and of the chame-
leon, and of the evolution of the egg of the bird during incubation.
But I have perhaps already extended this comparison too far, and
will therefore here conclude.
FINIS.