YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

THE BRIDGEWATER TREATISES

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 DOMINION OVER THE WORKS OF THV HANDS ;
THOU HAST PUT ALL THINGS UNDER HIS FEET. PSALM VIII. 6.

ON THE

ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE

TO THE

PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN,

PRINCIPALLY

WITH EEFEEENCE TO THE SUPPLY OF HIS WANTS, AND THE EXERCISE
OF HIS INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES.

BY

JOHN KIDD, M.D.F.R.S.

REGIUS PKOFESSOR OF MEDICINE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD.

A NEW EDITION.

PHILADELPHIA :
CAREY, LEA & BLANCHARD.

1836

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 per
mitting me to inscribe this Treatise with your Grace's name : as
suring you that, however inadequately I may have been found to
answer you* expectation in the execution, I have not applied my
self 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 favourable opinion. I have the honour to be,
My Lord,
with the greatest respect,
Your Grace's most obliged
and obedient Servant, J. KlDD.
Oxford, March 15, 1833.

1*

PREFACE.

The occasion which gave rise to this and the accompanying Treatises
is explained in the following notice: but the Author of the present Trea
tise 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 exe
cution 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 ex
amine 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 materials of the following Trea
tise 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 ob
ject 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 the existence and omni
potence of the Deity, or of his beneficence and wisdom ; though un
doubtedly it is hoped by the writer, as it was intended by the munificent
individual who originally proposed the general subject of this and the

Vlll PREFACE.
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 re
vealed 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 supposi
tion of the existence of intellectual atheism involves an intellectual ab
surdity. 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 surround us in our present state of exist
ence, and which are so obviously intended to advance the general powers
and faculties of Man, without advancing the powers and faculties of any
other animal1, 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 be
lieve 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 ac
cused of taking that for granted, of which the reader doubts.

NOTICE.

The series of Treatises, of which the present is one, is published under the
following circumstances :
The Right Honourable and Reverend Francis Henry, Earl of Bridge-
water, died in the month of February, 1829 ; and by his last Will and Testa
ment, 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
sterling; this sum, with the accruing dividends thereon, to be held at the dis
posal 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 di
rected, that the person or persons selected by the said President should be ap
pointed to write, print, and publish one thousand copies of a work On the Pow
er, 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 digestion,
and thereby of conversion ,¦ ffie construction of the hand of man, and an infinite va
riety of other arguments; as also by discoveries 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 Canterbury and of the Bishop of
London, in determining upon the best mode of carrying into effect the inten
tions of the Testator. Acting with their advice, and with the concurrence of a
nobleman immediately connected with the deceased, Mr. Davies Gilbert ap
pointed the following eight gentlemen to write separate Treatises on the differ
ent branches of the subject, as here stated :
THE REV. 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.

VUI NOTICE.
THE REV. 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 VITAL 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.
CiNON 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 FUNCTJON OF DIGESTION.

His Royal 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 publication.

CONTENTS.

CHAP. I. Introduction - - - - - -13
Sect. I. The Physical Condition of Man - - - - 13
II. The general Constitution of external Nature, - - 14
CHAP. II. The Physical Character of Man - - 17
Sect. I. The Physical Character of Man, compared with that of other
animals -------17
II. Differences in the Form of the Infant and of the Adult; par
ticularly with reference to the Spine - - 18
III. Physical Superiority of Man, on what Principle to be esti
mated - ----- 21
IV. Early and gradual Developement of the intellectual Facul
ties of Man ------ 23
CHAP. III. On the Powers of the human Hand, considered as a
corporeal Organ ------ 26
CHAP. IV. On the Brain, considered as the Organ of the Intellec
tual Faculties -------32
CHAP. V. The Nervous System of Animals in general - - 35
Sect. I. The Nervous System of the inferior Animals - 35
II. The Nervous System of Man - - - 37
III. Indications of natural Talent and Disposition deducible from
the Structure of the Brain - - - 40
IV. The general Doctrine of Physiognomy, as connected with
the Form of the Body - - - - - 44
V. The Develope-ment of the Human Brain, compared with that
of other Animals - 47
VI. Cursory View of the Extent of Human Power over the
Objects of the external World - - - - 48
CHAP. VI. Adaptation of the Atmosphere to the Wants of Man - 51
Sect. I. The general Constitution of the Atmosphere - - 51
II. Light ------- 52
III. Heat  58
IV. The general Uses of Water - - - - 63
V. Baths  66
VI. The Fluidity of Water ¦ - - - - - 68
VII. The natural Sources of Water - - - - 71
VIII. The Air of the Atmosphere, as connected with Respiration 72

Xii CONTENTS.
IX. Effects of the Motion of the Air, as connected with Human
Health, &c.  75
X. Effects of the Motion of the Air, as connected with the
Arts, &c. ------ 80
CHAP. VII. Adaptation of Minerals to the Physical Condition op
Man  85
Sect. I. The general Characters of Minerals - - - 85
II. Application of Minerals to Architecture and Sculpture - 86
III. Gems and precious Stones - - - - 92
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 - - 95
V. Beds of Gravel ------ 96
VI. Metals - - - - - - - 101
VII. Common Salt, &c. ..... 107
CHAP. VIII. Adaptation of Vegetables to the Physical Condition
of Man - - - - - - - 108
Sect. I. General Observations on the Vegetable Kingdom - - 108
II. The Cocoa-nut Tree, including the Formation of Coral Reefs 109
III. Vegetables as a Source of Food - 115
IV. Vegetables as applicable to Medicine - - . 119
V. Vegetables as applicable to the Arts, &c. - 122
CHAP. IX. Adaptation op Animals to the Physical Condition op
Man - - - - - - 128
Sect. I. General Observations on the Animal Kingdom - - 128
II. Geographical Distribution of Animals ... 130
III. The Camel - - - - - - 131
IV. Domestication of Animals - 135
V. Animals as a Source of Food .... 133
VI. Manufacture of Sal Ammoniac .... 139
VII. Animals as a Source of Clothing, &c. ... 141
CHAP. X. Adaptation of the external World to the Exercise of
the Intellectual Faculties of Man ... 142
Sect. I. On the Rise and Progress of Human Knowledge - - 142
II. Opinions of Lucretius on the constitution of Matter in gene
ral ; and on the Nature of Light, Heat, Water, and Air 148
III. Opinions of the Ancients on the Organization and Classi
fication of Animals ----- 154
IV. On those Animal Forms called Monsters, or Lusus Naturae 171
CHAP. XI. Conclusion ---... 173
Appendix ------.. 176

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 faculties ! in form and moving, how express and ad
mirable ! 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 1 who does not feel conscious of its
truth ?
Nor is its truth the less admissible, because the poet, in concentrat
ing 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 individual is bound habitually to take the one
view in conjunction with the other ; in a simple philosophical con
templation of human nature we are not precluded by any reasonable •
barrier, from taking such a partial view of the subject as the occa
sion may suggest.
In the present instance, indeed, I am strictly called upon to con
sider, not the moral, but the physical condition of man : and to ex
amine how far the state of external nature is adapted to that condi
tion; whether we regard the provisions made for the supply of trum's
wants, either natural or acquired; or those which are made for #ie
2

14 introduction.
exercise of his intellectual faculties. The following treatise naturally,
therefore, divides itself into two parts : in the first of which it is in
tended to investigate and describe the physical condition of man ; in
the second, the adaptation of external nature to that condition.
But a wide field here opens to our view : for man cannot, under
any circumstances, be considered as an insulated being ; or uncon
nected with the rest of animated nature. He is indeed but one link
in the great chain of animal creation ; and not only does the contem
plation of his condition lose half its interest, if separated from the
contemplation of the condition of other animals ; but it cannot be
satisfactorily investigated without that aid. And, again, animal life
itself is but one among many modes of existence, by which the Crea
tor has manifested his omnipotence ; and which it is necessary to
contemplate in connexion with the general phenomena of nature, in
order to show the superiority of that province, at the head of which
human, beings have been placed.
In attempting however to form a just estimate of the physical con
dition of man, we must not regard him merely under the aspect of
savage or uncivilized life, and consider this as his natural state : for
it may be presumed that, at the present day, such a puerile view of
the question is not for a moment entertained by any one capable of
philosophical reflection. In fact, in as many different states as man
does actually exist, civilised 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 tendency 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 relation to this life only, while man is destined for a
future ;) and a moral end is hardly attainable in an uncivilized state
of society.

Section II.
The general Constitution of external nature.
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
ot the atmosphere also. .
The atm&sphere principally consists of the air which we respire ;
(a form of matter so subtle, in all its states, as to be invisible j) to
gether 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

INTRODUCTION. 15
the atmosphere those still more subtle agents, heat and electricity.
But all these, though of so subtle a substance, are in their occasional i
effects the most powerful agents of nature. For, omitting the con
sideration of their silent but wonderful operation, as exhibited in the ;""
process of vegetation, and in many other processes less open to ob
servation, 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 decompo
sition 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 million years hence ; on the
other hand, the possibility of the dissipation 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 electricity in the form of light
ning : — and we shall necessarily 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 se
veral species appears to be a disposition to a pecular mode of mutual
attraction among the particles composing the individuals belonging
to them ; from which attraction, when exerted under the most favour
able circumstances, result that symmetry and regularity of form, to
which the term crystal has been applied. The transparency and
degree of hardness of crystals are various, and depend. much upon
external circumstances. The form is fundamentally the same for
each species, though capable 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, independently of previous
knowledge of the species, we could hardly discover any natural re
lation between the several constituent parts of the individual. What
is there in the insulated leaf of a rose or of a peach tree, that would
lead us to expect the fruit of the one or the flower of the other 1 But
the most remarkable line of distinction between vegetables and the
individuals of the preceding kingdom consists in their mode of in
crease and reproduction. Minerals can only increase, as such, by
the apposition of particles specifically similar to themselves ; and

16 INTRODUCTION.
can only be originally produced by the immediate combination of
their constituent elements. But vegetables have an apparatus within
them, by means of which they can assimilate the heterogeneous
particles of the surrounding soil to their own nature ; and they have
also the power of producing individuals specifically the same as
themselves : in common language, they are capable of contributing
to their own growth, and to the continuation of their species. And
as they produce these effects by means of internal organs adapted
to the purpose, they are hence denominated organized bodies.
The individuals of the animal kingdom very closely resemble those
of the vegetable in the two properties just described. The respective
organs differ, as we might expect, in their form and position ; but in
their functions or mode of action there is a strong analogy, and even
similarity, throughout. But animals differ from vegetables more re
markably than these do from every unorganized form of matter, in
being endued with sensation and volition ; properties which extend
the sphere of their relations to such a degree, as to raise them im
measurable above all other forms of matter in the scale of existence.
In distributing the individuals of the material world among these
four kingdoms of nature, there occasionally prevails considerable
obscurity, not only with respect to the true place which an individual
ought to occupy in the scale of a particular kingdom ; but even with
respect to the question, under which of the four kingdoms it ought
to be arranged ; this obscurity arising of course from the points of
resemblance apparently balancing, or more than balancing, the
points of difference. Let us for instance, in the atmospherical king
dom, 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 transpa
rent quartz, or rock crystal : indeed the transfer of the original term
xpuuVaAXos, 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 kingdom ; as fos ferri, mineral agaric, &c. And,
lastly, many of the animals called sea-anemones so far resemble 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 avoid
ing 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 animals hold the first rank, in conse
quence of the importance of these relations, among animals them
selves the first rank must be assigned to man.

17
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 ani
mals ; yet, if we exclude from our consideration those intellectual
powers and moral qualities by which he is essentially characterised,
and confine our view to his mere animal 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 digestion is converted into blood of the same cha
racter, and distributed in the same manner through the system ; 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 correspondent parts in
man : similar secretions, as the bile, tears, and saliva, are separated
by similarly constructed organs ; and similar parts become similarly
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 instinc
tive affections, passions, and propensities are the same, and are
manifested in the same way ; the angry look of a dog, for instance,
bespeaking the internal feeling as strongly as that of the man ; and
the playful and rapid movements of the young puppy resembling
the careless hilarity of childhood, no less than the stayed motions
and wary eye of the aged hound resemble the sedateness of the
aged human being.
Probably, however, it would be nearer the truth, were we to say
that man, if divested of his intellectual powers, and endued merely
with his animal nature, would be inferior to the brutes ; for, pos
sessing, as is the case, very few of the prospective or preservative
instincts, he would be unable, without the aid of his intellectual
powers, to provide for some of his most imperious wants.
But we may go even further than this. Let us suppose, for in
stance, a community of human individuals, who, though not gifted
2*

18 physical character of man.
with a sufficient degree of intellectual powers to instruct others, or
improve themselves, were yet endued with them to a degree suf
ficient to render them, if the opportunity offered, docile to a certain
extent, and capable of executing many of the common offices of
life ; (and what town or village does not present to our observation
individual instances of such unhappy shadows of human nature?)
how could a community like this exist; in which, though all, by the
terms of the supposition, were capable of learning something, yet none
would be capable of teaching anything 1 of what use under these
circumstances would be that " instrument of instruments" the hu
man hand, where there was no presiding mind to direct its move
ments 1 And, with respect to that wonderful auxiliary of the hu
man powers, how incorrect is the reflection of those who have
asserted that men are superior to brutes, only because they possess
this instrument: and how truly philosophical is the opposite reflec
tion, that man is not superior to other animals because he possesses
this instrument ; but he is provided with such an instrument pre
cisely 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 indeed 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 individual existence, what is
there that is calculated to give an earnest of his future vigour and
activity, eifher 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 en
joying 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 feebleness 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 remarkable
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

physical character of man. 19
present subject, we find that great strength, comb'ned with great
flexibility, is particularly requisite. With reference to strength, the
pyramidal form of this natural column is obviously conducive to the
purpose intended,; and the arrangement 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 reference 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 vertebras being applied to each other,
throughout, by broad horizontal surfaces, are thus best calculated to
support the perpendicular pressure of the superincumbent parts.
The effect of general strength is further accomplished 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 those vertebrae which belong to the thorax 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 con
tiguous vertebra?, near their line of junction.
The flexibility of the spine is secured to the utmost requisite ex
tent, by the great number of articulations or joints which it pos
sesses, 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 vertebras, which serve for the insertion
of the muscles and tendons which are to move the whole, are dif
ferently disposed in the neck, the back, and the loins; so as to be
accommodated to the degree and kjnd of motion required in each :
thus the vertebra? of the neck admit of a lateral motion to a
greater extent than those of the back ; and the vertebras of the back
admit of flexion and extension to a greater degree than those of the
neck ; while the vertebras of the loins, being intended for support
rather than flexibility, have their processes so distributed, as to con
tribute principally to the former of those effects. I
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 flexi
bility are so remarkably developed in the adult state, are not yet
formed, or not completed ; 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 imperfection in the rest of the column,
there is an extraordinary instance of strength and perfect growth,

20 physical character of man.
in precisely that part of it which could not have been left in an in
complete state, without manifest, immediate, and constant danger to
the individual. In other words, the bodies and processes of the
several vertebras on which the strength and flexibility of the spine
depend, are in early infancy still in a soft or cartilaginous state ;
while the annular 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, contribute to the fuller
developement of the moral character, not only of the individual,
but of his parents also, and of all his immediate connexions. The
mutual affection, for instance, that takes place and is cemented be
tween the infant and its mother, during the lengthened period in
which the latter nurses her offspring ; the stimulus, which is given to
the exertions 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 individuals of the same family; all coincide to in
crease 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 ?
How incorrect then is the conclusion of the poet in that other
wise 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 foresee
ing 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 surrrounding
atmosphere ; 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 reasonably and safely concluded, that that same power,
(call it " nature," or by any other name,) which provided so amply
* Turn porro Puer, ut sa:vis projectus ab undis ^^^
Navita, nudus humi jacet, •jnfkns^indig'us omnj J^
Vitali auxiliot cum primum liTTuminis oras
Nixibus ex alvo matris natura profudit j

PHYSICAL CHARACTER OF MAN. 21
for the early wants of the lower" species of animals, had some good
and special reason for leaving the human infant in a temporary state
of helpless weakness.

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 con
struction wonderful ; and so is even the nest of the bird, or the habi
tation of the beaver: but these animals could never be taught to fa- (
bricate, 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 and employing: much less could they be taught to
perform those complicated operations which result from their em
ployment. But, it may perhaps be said, it is the mind, the intellectual power
of man, which enables him to produce 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 members, he would be rendered
neai ly helpless. Take from his hand but one of the fingers, and he
cou!d do nothing. It is the human hand which gives the power of
execution to the human mind; and it is the relative position of one
of the fingers to the other four, which principally stamps the cha-
Vagituque locum lugubri complet, ut sequum 'st,
Cui tantum in vita restet transire malorum.
At varia: crescunt Pecudes, Armenta, Ferseque ;
Nee crepitacula eis opu' sunt, nee cuiquam adhibenda 'st (
Alma; nutricis blanda atque infractaj»q«£j3,:~ lo^xV^t1- ¦"
Nee varias quaerunt Vesteis pro tempore Coeli. \
Der.ique non Armis opus est, non Moenibus altis,
Queis sua tutentur, quando omnibus omnia large
Tellus ipsa parit, naturaque dxdala rerum. Lib. V. 223—235.

22 PHYSICAL CHARACTER OF MAN.
racter 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 various forms of matter.*
Give all the intelligence therefore that you please to the horse, or
to the elephant, yet with hoofs instead of hands it is physically impos
sible that they could construct the simplest instrument : nor could
the organs even of the beaver, were that animal gifted 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 organization as well as
in intellectual powers, to all other animals ; and the degree of resem
blance 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 exten
sive, their structure resembles that of man. And, with respect to
the degrees of this resemblance, it may be observed that occasion
ally it is so strong, as to constitute all but identity of form, as in
some quadrumanous animals, or apes ; while in others it is so faint,
as to render it questionable whether we are viewing an animate
or inanimate body, as in several varieties of sponge. It is evident
that the stability of the principle of classification, now described,
i depends on the permanency of the specific form of animals : and it
will be found that nature has guarded this point in so sacred a man
ner, that after the lapse of thousands of years, the identity of the
species may be not only traced, but demonstrated, when nothing but
the almost mouldering bones of the individual remain. But this sub
ject will be considered more at large hereafter.
As, then, in estimating the moral or intellectual characters of par
ticular men, we are not influenced by the consideration of insulated
defects or excellences, but of the aggregate powers and qualities of
the individual ; so, in comparing other animals with man, we ought
not to affirm that they approach nearer to the standard of his per
fection in proportion as they approach nearer to him in the structure
of this or that part, or in the developement of particular powers or
qualities ; but in proportion to that approximation which results from
.the balance of their structure and powers considered collectively.
And on this principle, however nearly a few of them may resemble
him, they never can approach even the confines of an equality of
nature; whatever some, speculative individuals have presumptuously
supposed, or others in their simplicity have feared. Thus the re
semblance to the human form, as well internally as externally, is so
remarkable in particular species of the ape, that while some philoso
phers (who however proceeded without a knowledge, or a due con-
* The term poltroon, if not of fancied etymology, ( polliee truncatus,) verifies
this statement ; the Roman soldier who had been deprived of his thumb, being
deemed unfit for service.

PHYSICAL CHARACTER OF MAN. 23
sideration of the true principles of the science concerned in their rea
sonings) have maintained that the ape and man are but varieties of
the same species, or at most but different species of the same genus ;
others, with an unnecessary anxiety, have laboured to vindicate the
supposed insult thus offered to the dignity of human nature, by search
ing for some fixed and invariable difference in the structure of the
orresponding 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 corres
pond exactly with those of the other, not only in form and situation,
but also in size and proportion ; let the brain itself, that tangible instru
ment of the intellectual 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 peculiari
ties and the moral and religious sense, to what dreaded conclusion
would the closest resemblances lead ? However near the approxi
mation in their form, in their nature, there must ever be an immea
surable distance between the two. The ape, compared with man,
may indeed be among other animals " proximus huic ;" sjtill however
it must be added, " longo sed proximus intervallo."

Section IV.
Early and gradual Developement of the inellectual 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 corresponding 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 manifest the
superiority of his intellectual nature : he very soon begins to collect
those materials for future 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 as
certain 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 occa
sioned by the aspect of the mother, and are perhaps only connected
with the expectation of an animal pleasure, namely the simple en
joyment of nourishment, yet are soon elicited by other individuals

24 PHYSICAL CHARACTER OF MAN.
• 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 determined by their specific form when fully devel
oped ; in order perhaps, among other purposes, to give occasion for
that exercise of the limbs which is necessary to the health of the in
dividual. Hence the young ram couches his head, and tilts his ad
versary, long before his horns have appeared ; and the young phea
sant assails his antagonist with his projected legs, long before his
spurs have begun to bud. And, following this analogy, may we not
reasonably suppose that the sports of childhood have a natural ten
dency to prefigure the occupations of manhood ; and that by the
extension of the same principle, independently 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 des
tinations 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 acting the various
duties which her nursery or household will hereafter require. The
recorded attempt to conceal Achilles in female attire, whether found
ed in fact, or, as is probable, merely a fictitious anecdote, will serve
to illustrate the present point ; inasmuch as the use of the' means,
said to have, been employed by Ulysses to detect the hero, was evi
dently 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
the 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 quali
ties with which it must necessarily be familiar before it can proceed
to reason on causes and relations. And although it may appear at
first view that a very disproportionately long period of our life is
devoted to the mere exercise of the sense^r, 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 ana
logous 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 ob
served. And if this may be correctly affirmed of the adult age of
life, and of those individuals 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 ma
tured 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.

PHYSICAL CHARACTER OF MAN. 25
It has been asserted by persons,* whose intellectual powers were
of the highest order, and whose industry 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 however be the case, and as a gene
ral position it probably is not very far from the truth, in vain does the
ambitious student rob nature of that sleep which Providence 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 im
peding to a certain and often very inconvenient degree the process
of natural respiration; and consequently, of other functions of the
body, particularly 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 natura] 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 facul
ties 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 vehe
mently by new, than by accustomed impressions : for certainly this
principle is likely to be more exercised in proportion as we are nearer
the period of infancy ; since every impression is then either abso
lutely new, or has not yet rendered the nerves dull by too frequent a
repetition of its application. Another happy instance of the harmony
that exists between the nature 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 everything without distrust, and to rely
implicitly on those inlets to knowledge, the impressions 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 analogy 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 simplicity
of little children.
* Lord chief justice Hale ; (see Boswell's Life of Johnson, vol. ii. p. 511. 4to.
London, 1791 j) not to mention living authorities. 3

26

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 ma
turity of his powers, man is fitted to exercise his empire over the ex
ternal world.
But before we consider the character of the materials 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 pro
duce 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
practically manifest every moment of our lives ; but its antecedent ca
pabilities are so open to the investigating 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 satisfactory evidence,
but cannot even form a probable conjecture, of the use or mode of
action of any particular part; yet we cannot doubt that it is the in
strument by which our intellectual powers hold communion with ex
ternal nature. I shall dedicate therefore this and the fallowing
chapter to the consideration of the general history of these organs.
It would be an invasion of the province of others to give an ana
tomical .description of the several constituent 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 reason,
as to afford one of the readiest subjects of physical 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 intellec
tual 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 anima]
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 in
telligent principle which animates the body, and of which the body
is merely the organ ; and on this account the component parts of
* Lib. I. cap. 2.

POWERS OF THE HUMAN HAND, &C. 27
animals differ according to the nature of this principle : for some ani
mals are bold and fierce ; others are timid and gentle : some are
gregarious, and co-operate for their mutual sustenance and defence ;
others are solitary, 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 Cre
ator has given, in lieu of every other natural weapon or organ of de
fence, that instrument, 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 arrows, are even more effectual at a distance. And, again,
though man may be inferior to the lion in swiftness, yet by his dex
terity 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 enabled 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 armour, 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 pri
vileges 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, 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 immortal gods ; and, lastly,
by means of the same instrument he bequeaths to posterity, in writing,
the intellectual treasures of his own divine imagination ; and hence
we, who are living at this day, are enabled to hold converse with
Plato and Aristotle, and all the venerable sages of antiquity."
In reasoning on the utility of the hand, as characteristic of the hu
man species, Galen thus expresses himself:* " Man being naturally
destitute of corporeal weapons, as also of any instinctive art, has re-
* Lib. I. cap. 4.

28 POWERS OF THE HUMAN HAND,
ceived a compensation, first in the gift of that peculiar instrument the
hand ; secondly in the gift of reason ; 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 occasions ; 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 characterise other animals ; inasmuch as it is manifestly
preferable to have the power of making use of various 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 op
posed to instinct, to be the art antecedent to, or productive of, all
other arts. For as the hand, though itself no particular organ, is
yet capable of being adapted to all other organs, and is consequently
antecedent to them ; so reason, though itself no particular art, is yet
capable of comprehending and applying all ; and may therefore be
considered 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 improved
by any conceivable alteration.
" In the first place, it possesses in an eminent degree 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 be
ing 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 with
out further reasoning, that had it been undivided, it could have grasp
ed only just such a portion of every object presented 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 encom
pass them by the separation 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 enatle it to apply itself to objects of various shapes, it is
* Lib. i. cap. 5.

CO.VSIDERED AS A CORPOREAL ORGAN. 29
evidently most convenient that it should be divided into many parts,
as it is : and it seems to be better constituted for this purpose than
any similar instrument ; 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, consequently, 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 therefore made each hand an assistant to
its fellow ; so that the two, when together laying hold of bodies of
unusual 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 raf
ter ; 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
grasping 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 ; substances stilly
larger we take up with three fingers, and so on with four, or with all
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 evident that in this case their number would be useless? For in
order to have a firm hold of anything, it is necessary either to grasp
it all round, or at least to grasp it in two opposite points ; neither of
which 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 purposely gave to the hands a form adapt
ed 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 op
posed to each other, but that those extremeties should be exactly of
the character they are, namely soft, and round, and furnished with
* Lib. ii cap. 9. f Lib. i. cap. 6.
3*

30 POWERS OF THE HUMAN HAND,
nails : for if the tips of the fingers were of bone, and not of flesh, we
could not then lay hold of such minute bodies 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 ful
filled by a hard or bony material ; and on the other hand, a material
too soft would easily yield to substances of which it attempted to lay
hold, and would continually let them escape : whereas the extremities
of the fingers are just of that intermediate degree of consistence,
which is calculated for their intended use.
"* But, since tangible substances vary much in their degree of
hardness, nature has adapted the structure of the extremities of the
fingers to that circumstance : for they are not formed either entirely
of flesh, or of the substance called nail; but of a most convenient com
bination of the two: thus those parts which are capable of being mu
tually brought in apposition, and which are employed in feeling for
minute objects, are fleshy ; while the nails are placed externally, as a
support to the former. For the fingers are capable of holding soft sub
stances, simply, by the fleshy or soft part of their extremity; but they
could not hold har(d substances without the assistance of nails ; de
prived 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 sub
stances by means of the nails alone ; for these being themselves 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 ex
tremities of the fingers, 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 in
tention for which they were made. The nails, however, are appli
cable to many other purposes besides those which have been men
tioned ; as in polishing and scraping, and in tearing and pealing 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, f" Whoever admires not the skill and contrivance of
* Lib. i. cap. 7. -J- Lib. iii. cap. 10.

CONSIDERED AS A CORPOREAL ORGAN. 31
nature, must either be deficient in intellect, or must have some pri
vate motive, which withholds him from expressing his admiration.
He must be deficient in intellect, if he do not perceive that the human
hand possesses all those qualification swhich it is desirable it should
possess ; or if he think that it might have had a form and construction
preferable to that which it has : or he must be prejudiced, by having
imbibed some wretched opinions, consistently with which he could
not allow that contrivance is observable, in the works of nature."*
Galen then 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, expres
sive of the same sentiment, does Solomon 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."J
I may be permitted, perhaps, to subjoin- a passage from another
part of the same wrork of Galen, though not confined to the same
subject ; in which, after having noticed many evidences of design in
the construction of the human body, particularly the adaptation, in
the number and size of the parts, to the effect to be produced, he
breaks out into this remarkable apostrophe : || " How can a man of
any intelligence 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 for
tune 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 constructed 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
* Galen adds : " Such persons we are bound to pity, as being originally infatu
ated with respect to so main a point ; while at the same time, it. behoves us to pro
ceed in the instruction of those happier individuals, who are not only possessed of
a sound intellect, 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 argument, which I have composed as a sincere hymn to
the praise and honour of the Creator; being persuaded that true piety to him con
sists, 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."
t Lib. x, cap. 10. $ Eccles. viii. 17. | Lib. xi. cap. 7. and 8.

32 ON THE BRAIN.
tongue in the nostrils, or in .the ear ?" Or, to carry on a similar ap
peal, " 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 occupied 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-tu o men in just
order; and can we deny the skill of the Creator, in disposing the
same number of teeth in an older so convenient, so necessary even
for our existence ?"
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 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 hap
pen that the teeth and talons of the leopard and lion should be simi
lar; as also the teeth and hoofs of the sheep and goat ; that in animals
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 mutua] 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 phenomena of nature,
and the important practical and philosophical conclusions deduced
from them, would have 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
mparting to man intellectual faculties superior to those of brutes, in-
* Lib. xi. cap. 8. ed. Ktlhn. vol. iii. p. 875 lin. 3—17. and p. 892. lin. 12.— 17.

ON THE BRAIN. 33
tended that he should exercise them, not solely with a view to the
higher and future destination of his nature, but also with a view to
the purposes of this present life.
Since however the senses of hearing, sight, and touch, which are
the great inlets of knowledge, are possessed by many of the inferior
classes of animals in common with ourselves, by some indeed in a
more exquisite degree ; since also those animals are capable of re
membering past, and conjecturing future events, although incapable
of the more abstract functions of the understanding ; it becomes
highly interesting to inquire whether there is anything in the physi
cal structure of man which renders him more capable of being acted
on by external agents, with respect to the developement of his intel
lectual faculties, than brutes are : in other words, whether there is a
material instrument in animal organization, the general composition
of which is in obvious correspondence with the degree of intellect
evinced by different species of animals, including man as one of those
species. Now, if any one in the least degree conversant with the laws of
optics and of sound, were to doubt the adaptation of the structure of
the eye and of the ear to those laws respectively, he would fairly be
ranked among the individuals of that class of speculatists whose
minds are too weak to apprehend any truth. And though there is
not so obvious a relation between the structure of the brain and the
exercise of the mental faculties,- as in the case of the eye and light,
and of the ear and sound; yet the indications of a mutual connexion
between the two are both clear and numerous. And hence not only
have philosophical inquirers in all ages acknowledged such a con
nexion ; but the most common observers have ever felt an intuitive
conviction of its existence, and have considered the.brain as the in
strument of thought and reason:* the truth of which assertion is evi
dent from various metaphorical terms expressive both of intellectual
defect and of intellectual excellence.
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 vari
ous 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 de
gree of docility ; fish and reptiles, which are the lowest in the scale,
will readily be allowed to be inferior to birds, which are a degree
*  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.

34 ON THE BRAIN.
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 accurate investiga
tion, 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 indi
viduals, and the preservation of the species, are apparently deter
mined by some internal impulse which animals unconsciously obey.
Nor does it militate against such a notion of instinct, that when ac
cidental impediments prevent 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 following
extraordinary attempt, with reference to the very principle now un
der consideration, is a sufficient illustration. 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
i passive attractions derived from the power of sensation: and the
^ instinctive operations of animals nothing more than crystallizations
i 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 intelligence characteristic of
different classes of animals is proportional to the approximation of
their structure to that of man, it may for the present be presumed
that no one doubts.
V'lnstinctus animalium nihil aliud sunt, quam attraotiones mortuse a sensibili-
tate protect* ; et eorum artificia nihil aliud quam cry stall izationes per sensibilita-
«™. Pr°dnuctiB- Wenzel, lie penitiori Structure Cerebri. Tubings, fol. 1812. p.
24o, 1. 1U, ° r

35

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 ner
vous 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 system has yet
been discovered, or at least satisfactorily demonstrated : it is pre
sumed rather than known that in such animals there exists a varia
ble 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 sur
rounded by a kind of collar, from whence distinct nerves are dis
tributed to the other parts of the body.
In ascending still higher the scale of animal existence we find,
together with a greater symmetry of structure in the whole indi
vidual, additional component parts of the nervous system, and a
greater degree of regularity in the distribution of these supperadded
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
respective 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 appearance 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

36 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS.
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 elabo
rate ; the individual nerves all communicating with a continuous
cord which extends 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 vertebrce, which taken together form what
is called the s'pine 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.
The nervous cord above described is known more familiarly un
der the name of the spinal marrow, a term which' is derived from
its resemblance, in some of its physical characters, to the oil con
tained in the interior of the bones of man and various other ani
mals. That portion of the spinal cord which is contiguous 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 reptiles, birds, and quadru
peds ; largest, and most complicated, in man. From the lower sur
face of the brain arise several pairs of nerves which are principally
distributed upon the organs of the distinct senses, and 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 expres
sion, 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 propor
tional size ; and at the same time it also more and more resembles
that of man both in its general form, and in the character and pro
portions of its several parts. But the human brain, when fully de
veloped, contains parts which do not exist in the brain of those ani
mal species which approach nearest to man in the structure of this
part.* « It may be convenient here to state that the human brain is naturally divisible
into two parts, called the cerebrum and cerebellum; of which the former is eight or

NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 37
It cannot be uninteresting in an inquiry like the present to add,
with respect to those occasional deviations from the common form,
called monsters and lusus naturas, 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 frequently 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,
correspondent with that of the general form. Thus a lusus natura?
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 nature.
Horace, than whom no one better understood the principles of ima
ginative or artificial poetry, knew that abrupt combinations of hete
rogeneous subjects would certainly offend a correct taste, because
unnatural : for taste, it may be affirmed, is, in one of its essential
attributes, a feeling in harmony with natural combinations ; whe
ther the individual combination be that of sounds, or colours, or
forms, or of intellectual images, or moral sentiments : and nature,
which may be pre-eminently called the rr/yi\ *on]Tixi7, though she
may occasionally surprise the mind by unusual combinations of or
gans natural to the species, never so couples together heterogeneous
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,  Non ut
Serpentes avibus geminentur, tigribus agni.*

Section II.
The Nervous System of Man.
The nervous system of man, without any reference to that of
other animals, naturally resolves itself into three sufficiently distinct
divisions : of which one is appropriated to those parts, which cha
racterise him as simply an organized being ; another, to his powers
of voluntary motion ; the third, or the brain, to the organs of the
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 reference to the great size of its hemi
spheres that the human brain exceeds that of all other animals.
* The subject of lusus natura:, or monsters, will be resumed towards the con
clusion of this treatise. 4

38 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS.
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 collectively, the
brain has been most generally considered as the organ of the mind :
and it has long been a favourite speculation to endeavour to ascer
tain what part of this organ is subservient to the existence and exer
cise of those intellectual powers and moral feelings, which to a
greater or less extent are possessed by many other animals as well
as man. It is presumed 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 characters and habits of animals ;*
so that when in common 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 extended sense, as im
plying the aggregate faculties of man, both moral and intellectual.
I will not here insist on the, evidence of the intellectual powers of
brutes, as deducible from the effects of what we call instinct ; be
cause in all those actions which are the result of instinct, animals
appear to be guided by a natural and irresistible impulse from with
in, 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 per
formed by other individuals of their species. I would rather insist
on that evidence of their intellectual 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
practised hound will cut off an angle in order to shorten his dis
tance, may be considered as proofs of a considerable degree of in
tellectual rather than of instinctive 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 ima
gination ; for that playfulness almost always consists in the repre
sentation of mutual hostility, though the real disposition at the same
time is anything but hostile. The dog for instance, under such
?Aristotle, in his History of Animals, distinctly affirms such an existence—
itia-ri yaf iir toic trhtis-rots iuu rZt a\Xa>v $\Ja>v i%vh tZv irtfi tot 4uX''v T/waiy, «*¦»?
i^rl tZv avfywsray %%u tpMifwripa.s Tas Sicufopas. p. 212. lin. 7 — 10. ed. Bekker.

NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 39
circumstances, snarls and bites, but with evident jntention 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 expres
sion 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 become attached not
only to individuals of their own species, but to individuals of even a
different order or class : and they evidently feel regret upon sepa
ration 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 proportion 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 elephant 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 approximate
much more closely to man than the latter. Neither do the dispo
sitions or qualities of animals appear to be connected with the abso
lute 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 propor
tional 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 serpent 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 de
gree of intellectual power manifested by these animals corresponds
with such a proportion. But on examination it appears that the
proportional size of the brain is 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 quadruped : and yet
what quadruped exceeds the elephant in sagacity ? and, in com
paring 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 in
versely as the degree of intellect of the animal : thus, as far as we

40 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS.
are capable of judging, the intellect of the fox is infinitely greater
than that of the bat, and yet the brain of the former, proportional y
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 proportionally larger than that of some
of the genera of the higest 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 anima] 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 second 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 subject, there does not
appear to be any connexion between the degree of intellectual
faculties and the mutual proportions of the several constituent parts
of the brain; or between the degree of intellectual 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 indivi
dual ; 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 Disposition deducible 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 investigate in detail the ob
servations and theory of Dr. Gall respecting this organ : but on
the present occasion it will be unnecessary to refer to that theory
further than may be required by the course of the argument.
The 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 ; particu
lar parts of it being the organs of those several faculties, sentiments,
and propensities : and that according to the state of these organs

NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 41
will be the faculties, sentiments, and propensities of each indivi
dual." To those who have objected to this theory, that it leads towards
the doctrines of fatalism, and the material 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 coun
teract 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. Gall considers as
questions not only beyond the comprehension of human reason, but
totally unconnected with his inquiries, the theory merely investi
gates the material conditions of that part of the body by which the
soul is affirmed to manifest itself to our observation.
It has been already stated that, in exposing to view the lower
surface of the brain, several pairs of nerves are observable which
may be traced to the organs of sense and some other parts : and it is
admitted by many anatomists of acknowledged accuracy, that, of
all these pairs, not one, excepting the olfactory and optic, is derived
from the great mass of the brain called its hemispheres : but Dr.
Gall shows it to be highly probable in fact, as it evidently is in
reasoning, that neither the olfactory nor the optic nerves are derived
from the hemispheres: whence it would appear that, with the
doubtful exception of the nerves of smell and sight, not a single
nerve of the whole body is derived from the great mass of the brain :
for the organs of the other senses, and all the muscles of voluntary
motion, together with the whole assemblage of the organs of diges
tion, and the heart, and the lungs, are evidently supplied from other
sources. Either then the great mass of the brain is allotted in a most ano
malous disproportion to the two senses of smell and sight, which in
many animals are comparatively weak ; or, if it do not supply the
nerves of sight and smell, there is no part of the body which it does
apparently supply with nerves : and then the conclusion presses upon
us with peculiar force, that the brain is exclusively the instrument of
the immaterial part of our present existence.
It appears from Dr. Gall's own account, that he was originally
led to this peculiar train of thought by observing the difference of
talents and character in his own brothers, and in other children with
whom he happened to associate ; some of whom, though under per
fectly similar circumstances of education with the rest, were much
quicker in apprehending what was taught them : and further, by ob
serving 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
4*

42 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS.
the last-mentioned instance particularly, he argued that the differ
ence 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 instances which show that the sense of hearing
is by no means in proportion to the degree of perfection in the con
struction 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 singing, why should the female
bird be mute, seeing that in this part of its bodily construction it dif
fers not from the male? It is equally observable that in men the
talent for music is not in proportion to any superiority in the organ
of hearing ; in the construction of which indeed there is little if any
apparent difference between any two individuals.
Partial insanity and partial idiotcy 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 un
common ; and even persons of considerable intelligence occasionally
exhibit very obscure traces of this or that particular faculty. Other
arguments in favour of his system he draws from the temporary ef
fects produced by cerebral inflammation on the state of the mental
powers : in the case, for instance, of idiots, who during the inflam
matory action have manifested a considerable degree of understand
ing ; but after the cessation of that action have relapsed into their
former 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 labouring under fatuity 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 expected 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 dif
ferent 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 in
teresting part of Dr. Gall's system: nor was more originally intended
than to introduce the subject to the consideration of those, who hap
pen 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, thecharac-

NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 43
ter 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 ingenious, and founded upon unobjectionable
principles : and that while the general conclusion is inevitable with
respect to the collective functions of the brain, there is nothing un
reasonable 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 himself with developing the structure of
the brain in the various classes of animals ; and had he been con
tent to show that, in tracing its structure from those animals which
manifest the least indications of intelligence to those which exhibit
still stronger and stronger, it proportionally advances in its resem
blance to the structure of the human ; and lastly, had he only drawn
from these premises the general probable conclusion, that specific
parts had specific uses with respect to the manifestations of the im
material principle of animal existence : (and assuredly brutes are
endued with such a principle, though, as being devoid of the moral
sense, they are not fitted for a future state, and consequently perish
when their bodies die ;) had Dr. Gall been content to have stopped at
this point, without venturing to define the local habitations of the
supposed specific organs, he would have acquired the unalloyed fame
of having developed a beautiful train of inductive reasoning in one
of the most interesting provinces of speculative philosophy : whereas,
in the extent to which he has carried his principles, his doctrine has
become ridiculous as a system ; while in its individual applications
it is not only useless, but of a positively mischievous tendency : for,
without the aid of this system, every man of common sense has suf
ficient grounds on which to judge of the characters of those with
whom he associates ; and it is evidently more safe to judge of others
by their words and actions, and the general tenor of their conduct,
than to run the risk of condemning an individual from the indication
of some organ, the activity of which, for a moment allowing its ex
istence, may have been subdued by the operation of moral or reli
gious motives.
But there is an occasional absurdity in the application of the
theory, which, though obvious, does not seem to have been noticed.
Let us suppose, for instance, the case of a murderer ; and that a dis
ciple of Dr.(Gall were to maintain that, as the crime of murder pro
ceeds from the operation of the organ of destructiveness, that organ
would be found highly developed in such an individual ; and yet,
upon actual inspection, this were not found to be the case. Here,
although the disciple of Dr. Gall might be disappointed 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 individual to the crime

44 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS.
of murder, whose nature and habits were as far as possible removed
from the propensity to that crime ; and who, consequently, accord
ing 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 depending on his specific tempera
ment, 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 of Physiognomy, as connected with the Form of
the Body.
As ihe indiscreet zeal, not only of Dr. Gall, but of physiognomists
in general, has thrown unmerited discredit on that department of
speculative philosophy 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 the en
ergies of the former, although it be itself immaterial, may be mani
fested by means of a material instrument. The existence of this re
ciprocal influence, which indeed we might expect from their intimate
though mysterious union, cannot be denied. Thus grief or expecta
tion destroys appetite ; and mental application to any favourite pursuit
makes us insensible of the want of food : and, on the other hand, a dis
ordered state of the digestive organs evidently impedes the free exer
cise 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 repeated
abuse of wine permanently debilitates the mind, and often terminates
in confirmed insanity. The state of the air affects the mental ener
gies and moral feelings of many individuals, to a degree inconceiva
ble to those who are not thus subject to its influence. And the im
pression 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

NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 45
traced in the conformation of the latter, it will be at once remembered,
is by no means new : and the anecdote of the unfavourable judgment
passed on the moral disposition of Socrates, from the 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.* And it is hardly, a question, whether every individual
is not accustomed in some degree to decide on character from the
features, the colour of the hair, and other external indications, inde-
dendently of that expression of the countenance, which rather marks
the actually, existing state of the mind than the latent disposition of
it.f But if it be in any degree probable that the connexion between
the soul and body may be traced in the conformation of the features
or other parts of the body, in a much greater must it be probable that
that connexion may be traced in the structure of the brain.
Nor does there appear, on the ground either of reason or of reli
gion, any thing objectionable or absurd in the assumption, antece
dently to observation, that the intellectual and moral tendencies of
the soul may in a qualified sense be determined, or at least modified,
by the peculiar structure of the body : that they are frequently coin
cident with certain peculiarities of corporeal structure is a matter of
actual observation.
Is it absurd to suppose that, man being a compound of soul and
body, the body has been so constructed in each individual as to
become a fit arena on which that struggle shall be manifested, which
undoubtedly takes place between the conflicting passions of the soul ?
For it will not be denied by those to whom this treatise is addressed,
that the soul wants not the substance of a corporeal frame for the
mere existence of its evil principles, but only for the external mani-
* For an exposition of Aristotle's views on this subject, consult a work of Galen,
entitled IIEPI TilN TH2 TTXH2 H6QN, in which the question of the connexion
between the faculties of the soul and the conformation of the body is discussed. Ga
len, op. Kohn. vol, iv. p. 768—798.
f Shakspeare has several references to indications of personal character, as de
pending on the form of the countenance, &c.
Cleopat. Bear'st thou her face in mind ? i'st long, or round ?
Messeng. Round, even to faultiness, <
Cleopat. For the most part too,
They are foolish that are so. Her hair, what colour ?
Messeng. Brown, madam : and her forehead
As low as she would wish it.
Ahtosy and Cleopatra, Act III. Scene 3.
Caliban  We shall lose our time,
And all be turn'd to barnacles, or to apes
With foreheads villanous low. Tempest, Act IV. near the end.
Julia. Ay, but her forehead's low ; and mine's as high.
Two Gentlemen op VeboNa, end of Act IV.

46 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS.
festation of them. An authority at least which cannot be questioned
by a believer in revelation, asserts that out of the heart, that is, evi
dently from the context, out of the soul, proceed murder, theft,
adultery, and the like.
Is it absurd to suppose that, the brain being a very complicated
organ, made up of distinctly different parts, these parts are subser
vient to the exercise of different functions ? or, since it is evident
that in every other individual organ of the body, where there is an
identity of structure, there is also an identity of function in all the
parts, may we not fairly presume that, were the integral parts differ
ent, the effects produced would be different; and, consequently, that
as the integral parts of the brain differ from each other, the offices
of those parts may be different ? Or, again, will it be denied as a
matter of fact that different faculties and propensities manifest them
selves in different individuals ; and is it unreasonable, on the ground
of analogy, our only ground in this case, to suppose that they mani
fest themselves through the agency of different instruments? And
since the visceral nerves are appropriated to the mere vital functions
of nutrition ; and the spinal nerves to general muscular motion and
common sensation ; and the nerves of the special senses occupy but
a very small portion of the brain; to what assignable purpose can
the great mass of that organ be applied, if not to the operations of
that intellectual and moral principle, which, after the abstraction of
the organs of nutrition, motion, and sensation, is the only imaginable
part of our present nature ?
Is the language of Scripture entirely allegorical throughout the
sacred volume? or do we believe on just grounds that we are con
taminated with an innate propensity to evil ; that there are two prin
ciples within us constantly struggling for the mastery ; and that, spite
of our better part, and against the strongest feelings of conscience
and determination of judgment, we still are for ever yielding to the
worse ?
Shall we deny that the tendencies to evil are different 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 conclusions
of antecedent reasoning as to its probability : for, if all men were
avaricious for instance, or ambitious 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 simultaneous 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 in
strument by means of which, principally, if not exclusively, a com
munication is maintained between the external world and the soul.
Nor can it be, doubted, indeed it is a matter of fact which is con
stantly open to our observation, that the degree of approximation in

NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 47
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 reasoning, 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 onwards;
but that the physical developement of the brain advances propor
tionally up to a certain period. But on this point it will be desirable
to make a few more particular remarks.

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 period of the embryo state of those
animals. But at the period of birth there is a very remarkable dif
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 observa
tions of others, that although the brain makes continual 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 subsequently 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 pecu
liar to the human brain, the peculiar faculties of the human intellect
are proportionally developed : and finally, ^hat, 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 matured by exercise and education, all those intel
lectual faculties which are thenceforward observable : and at that

48 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS.
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 tri
fling as hardly to be worth notice (p. 247 — 266).
In comparing either individual actions or the complicated opera
tions of man, with those of other animals, 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 ani
mals, 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 respective
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 intuitive conviction
of mankind at large, and from a comparative examination of the
structure and developement of the brain in man and other animals,
that the intellectual superiority of man, physically considered, de
pends 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 phy
siological difference, of any importance at least to the present argu
ment, between man and the higher orders of animals : and the pecu
liarities 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 physical condition of man must have a special reference to
those peculiarities in his structure which distinguish him essentially
from other animals, it has therefore been thought important to dedi
cate a considerable portion of this treatise to the investigation of the
characters of the two organs above-mentioned.

Section VI.
Cursory View of the Extent 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

NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS. 49
works; whom alone, of all the living tenants of the earth, he has
endued with a mind capable of conceiving, and corporeal powers
capable of executing those wonderful combinations, which make
him lord of the world which he inhabits ; which enable him to com
pel the properties of inert matter to bend to his behests ; and to di
rect 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 appoint
ments it advances through the waves, the majestic movements of a
man-of-war, let us trace its whole history, and thence admire the ex
tent of human power over the material world. Look at the rude
canoe of the New Zealander, or call to mind the nearly as rude cor
acle 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, 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
artillery. Or, passing from inert matter to living and intellectual 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, with
out any plan of civil government or national aggrandizement ; and
then let us contemplate the profound views and combinations of the
Macedonian monarch — that military meteor, whose course, though
occasionally eccentric, was yet constantly regulated by the prepon
derating attraction of his original design ; and whose plans, though
marked by temporary and local devastation, yet secured the founda
tion 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 Ancients"* has
admirably developed the great and profound views of Alexander,
ignoiantly described by Pope as the reveries of insane ambition ;
and has significantly alluded to the successful accomplishment 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 extraordinary con
queror of the present century. View him overcoming every moral
and physical difficulty in the pursuit of his gigantic and fearful pro-
• The very reverend W. Vincent, D. D. late dean of Westminster.
t Q. Curt. lib. ix. cap. 6. 5

50 NERVOUS SYSTEM OF ANIMALS.
ject of universal empire ; uniting distant and hostile nations in con
federacies against their own liberties ; changing their long estab
lished 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 sacri
fice of human life ; breaking into the peaceful occupations of do
mestic scenes, and desolating the happiness of myriads of his sub
jects, 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 imagina
tion 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
meantime forces itself upon the mind ; partly applicable 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 sublu
nary 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 in
sulated prison, he mused on the interminable expanse of the Atlan
tic ; and compared 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 remains 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 deep, " Hither
to shalt thou come, but no further : and here shall thy proud waves
be stayed."

51

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 capabilities of his nature,
rather than of his actual state : but it is evident on a moment's re
flection 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 attainments of a Newton and a
native of New Holland ; and in the case of communities, how great
the contrast 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 communities under all possible circumstances of ex
istence, and make the illustration of as general application as the na
ture 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 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 ending with the animal kingdom.
If it were possible, with the bodily as with the mental eye, to be
hold the constitution of the atmosphere which surrounds our earth,
we should view a compound 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 it
self, but from every organized form of matter whether living or in a
state of decomposition that is found upon the earth's surface ; 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 circumscribed and baneful
effluvia, however generated, which when confined to definite portions
* Semper enim quodcunque fliiit de rebus; id omne
Aeris in magnum fertur mare. Lib. V. 277, 8.

52 ADAPTATION of THE ATMOSPHERE
of the atmosphere produce those various forms of fever which infest
particular districts : or those more awful 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 contained in it, it has received its
peculiar appellation ; being the receptacle, or magazine, as it were,
of terrestrial exhalations.*
All these various exhalations however may be considered as fo
reign to the constitution of the air, being neither constantly nor neces
sarily present anywhere ; all, with the exception of that aqueous
vapour which is continually arising 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 obvi-
oulsy adapted to the wants of man as to demand immediate atten
tion. Electricity is probably of equal importance in its relation to
man : but the true character of that relation has not yet been suffi
ciently developed to call for a distinct consideration on the present
occasion. Section II.
Light.
The metaphorical expressions of all ages and nations, with respect
to light, sufficiently evince the value in which that inestimable gift is
held. In the sacred Scriptures indeed, not only are temporal bless
ings compared with 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 per
ceives 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 be
cause 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 overwhelmed
with terror, and why does it call out for protection, but from the in
fluence of those undefined fears, which naturally occur to the mind
under the privation of light ?

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 53
There is something so congenial to our nature in light, something
so repulsive in darkness, that, probably on this ground alone, the very
aspect of inanimate things is instinctively either grateful or the re
verse, 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 accept
able in proportion as they approach nearest or recede farthest from
the character of light, whether reflected immediately from the hea
venly bodies, or from the azure of the sky, or from the thousand bril
liant hues with which the setting or the rising of the 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 distastes to natural objects ; so there may
also be in the case of human beings congruities, or the reverse, be
tween the sense impressed 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 par
takes, among all nations, of the same essential character. It is a
fact equally deducible from observation, that particular flavours and
odours are naturally 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 by
rugged surfaces. Why then may it not be the same with respect 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 producible 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 alterna
tion 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 indirectly 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 obvi
ous in its effects to require any formal demonstration : but it will be
interesting to consider its relation to the absence of light. It ap
pears then that, by a fundamental law of our nature, a sense of un
easiness invariablv follows a long continued exercise of our powers,
5*

54 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
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 pe/fectly 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 cessation of its energies a renovated
accumulation of those powers, which are necessary for the pur
poses 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 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 exception of those whose habits
are nocturnal, all birds betake themselves to sleep as soon as night
approaches : 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 composing
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 inherent 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 o"f 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 the muscles
of involuntary motion, this observation holds most remarkably with
respect to the heart ; the continued action of which organ during >

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 55
sleep is a phenomenon worthy of the deepest attention of a philoso
phical mind. All other organs of the body have 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 in
dividual 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 re
presents 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 involve the general system in the stupor of
apparent death — but the heart, unless on such occasions as the mo
mentary interruption of a swoon, never rests : so that, whether we
look back to that period of our existence, when, in our yet imper
fect 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 recognised 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, ihere are comparatively few nights in which there is
not diffused fttrough 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 ab
sence of light felt\with any degree of severity ; for, in such instances,
although the indiv'idual may be made to understand that he wants
some faculty which those around him possess, there cannot be how
ever any consciousness of privation where there never had been
actually any enjoyment ; or where there was no recollection of it,
if it had for a time existed. And even in the case of individuals
who have been deprived of sight long subsequently to birth, although
the recollection of the former enjoyment must more or less imbitter
their present state ; yet so long as the offices of surrounding friends
are the means of administering to their eomfort, 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 compensation which nature affords to
those who are deprived of sight, in the consequently quickened ac
tivity of some of the other senses. x
Let 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 sams as they are now, the ex-

56 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
istence of light were withdrawn from this earth : what would then
be the condition of mankind ? 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 suppo
sition 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 con
cerned, destroyed. Or suppose, further, that these necessary sup
plies of life were no longer required, on account of some consequent
alteration in our physical constitution ; 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 would be our situa
tion. Under such circumstances, wisdom would not only be
"at one entrance quite shut out,"
but no other entrance could then be found for it ; for of the other
senses, the only remaining inlets of knowledge with reference to an
external world, there is not one, which, if unaided by sight, could
be of any practical value. With respect indeed to our inward feelings,
though we should, on the one hand, be spared, by the privation of
light, the worse than corporeal pain of the averted eye of those who
ought to meet us with gratitude and affection ; we should, on the
other hand, lose the beams of filial or parental love; of which
even a momentary smile outweighs an age of pain.
As in mathematical reasoning the truth of a proposition is some
times indirectly proved by showing that every process of proof but
the one proposed would lead to an absurd conclusion: so, though the
supposition 6f a general and total privation of light is on all probable
grounds of reasoning inadmissible, it may yet ser?e to show us in
directly the value of the good we enjoy. But it is sufficient to have
given a few instances of the necessary effects of such a privation :
and it will be a more grateful task to enumerate the actual benefits
which we derive from the agency of light.
In the vegetable world, upon the produces of which animal ex
istence ultimately depends, light is the prime mover of every change
that takes place, from the moment the germ emerges from the soil.
Exclude the agency of light, and in a short time the most experi
enced botanist might possibly be at a loss to know the plant with
which he is otherwise most familiar ; &> completely obliterated are
all its natural characters, whether of colour, form, taste, or odour.
Thus the faded colour of the interior leaves of the lettuce and other
culinary vegetables is the result of such a degree of compression of
the body of the plant as excludes the admission of light beyond the
exterior leaves. And, again, i/ a branch of ivy or of any spreading
plant happen to penetrate dunng 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

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 57
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 examined, 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 charac
teristic, 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 vegeta
ble 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 bleaching 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 selected in the pre
ceding 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 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 in
dividuals who cultivate or admire them. For who can look on the
productions of such masters as Guido, Raphael, or Michael Angelo,
without imbibing a portion of the spirit which animated those mas
ters in the execution of their inimitable works ? or, if we quit the re
gions of imagination and of history, and descend from the higher
efforts of the art into the retirement of domestic life, who can suc
cessfully describe those emotions which are excited by the portrait
of a beloved object, a child or parent now no more; or by the re
presentation 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 experience from the
contemplation of a painting is probably to be sought for in that prin
ciple of our nature, of more extensive influence perhaps than is gene
rally supposed, which derives a gratification from perceiving the
resemblance of actual or probable truth ; or even, and sometimes in
a higher degree, from the delineation of fictitious characters and
scenes : and hence the art of painting is easily made the vehicle of
the ludicrous and the horrible, no less than of the sublime and the

58 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
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 neglected, 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: 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 pro
perty which almost seems essential to matter, namely weight. In
their relation to the physical existence 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 neces
sary. 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 parti
cular species of animals, are at least partially suspended.
The degree of heat adapted to the human frame is so nicely ad
justed 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 variation to which the body is exposed in this climate, it will be
found that a difference of two or three degrees, 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, ascer
tained that the point of 62° or 63° of Fahrenheit is that, which, upon
an average of many individuals, is in this climate the most cogenial,
as far as sensation is concerned, to the human body. But it is a
merciful provision of nature, considering the numerous vicissitudes
of human life, that man is capable of resisting very great and even
sudden alterations of temperature without any serious inconvenience.
Thus an atmosphere so cold, as to depress the mercury in Fahren
heit's thermometer to the 52d degree below the freezing point of
water, has been borne under the protection of very moderate
clothing. And, on the other hand, an atmosphere of a temperature
as high as the 200th degree of 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
* Phil. Trans. 1775. vol. lxv. p. 117.

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 59
connected with the general intention of this Treatise, that, during the
same time, a thermometer which had been fixed under his tongue
indicated only the 98th degree of Fahrenheit :* so that the body re
mained very nearly of its natural temperature, during its exposure
to an atmosphere exceeding its own temperature by full 100 degrees.f
This 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 chamber, 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 tempe
rature is as capable of«being steadily and uniformly raised, by in
creasing 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, dis
tinguishes 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 so
ciety 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
quicklime, the base of every common cement, be produced from lime
stone ? Without the application of the higher degrees of heat, metals
could neither be reduced from their ores, nor the reduced metals be
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, be
come almost indispensably necessary to persons of the poorest class,
as a substance of daily use for various economical 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 philosopher. Among the
most useful of those properties are its impermeability to fluids, either
in a liquid or aeriform state ; its ready permeability to light, together
with its power of modifying the qualities of that fluid ; and its resis
tance to almost all those chemical agents, which are capable of de
stroying the texture of most other substances with which they remain
long in contact.
In considering the extensive utility of the thermometer, and baro
meter, in their common and most convenient forms, it is evident that
•Ibid. p. 118.
¦j-For an account of similar experiments carried to a further extent, see p. 484,
&c. of the same volume of the Phil, Trans.

60 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
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 variation in the level of the quicksilver, in the case of the barome
ter at least, would necessarily be prevented. The same properties of
transparency and impermeability to air very greatly enhance, if they
do not solely constitute the value of glass, in all those philosophical
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 its passage through lenti
cular 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 physio
logy of animals and vegetables, as also in the constitution of inani
mate 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 constantly accumulating mass of observations
connected with them, which the world owes to that wonderful instru
ment the telescope ? By the aid of which not only has the knowledge
of our own sidereal system been extended, in consequence of the dis
covery of new planets belonging to it ; but it seems to have been ren
dered highly probable that those obscurely defined luminous masses,
which Sir William Herschel termed nebulae, observable within the
limits of individual constellations, are really the accumulated light of
innumerable stars seen through the medium of a space hitherto im
measurable : and, that the milky wayitsely is an extended accumula
tion of similar nebulae ; the collected light of which, at some incon
ceivable 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, be
tween 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 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 subordinate

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 61
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, maybe subservient?
What if the moral history and state of the inhabitants of those num
berless spheres be like that of man ? — But the view, which the inves
tigation 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 appropriate to the
character of human knowledge : and, having referred to the effects
produced by heat on various forms of matter, let us inquire what faci
lities nature has placed within our reach for the purpose of exciting
and maintaining heat itself. The chemist in his laboratory, sur
rounded 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 com
bustible substance : by compression of common air in a small cylin
der 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 instantaneously 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 igniting a fine wire
of steel, in passing the electric current along it by means of the Vol
taic apparatus.*
There are few individuals however who have commonly such
magic instruments at hand : and, even if they had, it is probable that
* It will not perhaps be deemed impertinent, to relate an instance 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 en
gaged in conducting an electric current, by means of the Voltaic apparatus, through
three portions of firte steel wire, different 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 the 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 he mentioned that the preced
ing experiment was conducted in a single cell of a single and moderately sized Vol
taic trough. 6

62 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
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 fore
fathers 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 con
sidered, the means namely of maintaining heat, when once excited,
to a sufficient extent and degree of intensity for the various purposes
of 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 common coal,
we shall meet with an interesting example of those provisions of na
ture which Dr. Paley 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 kingdom which may
be described under the term of timber, the humblest productions of
the morass, though not the most desirable, are however a sufficient
substitute. 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 the peat which they
afford, to the comfort of myriads of individuals ; who, were it not for
this source of supply, 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 aboriginal 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 population.
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 invaluable mineral combustible, which, usually bearing in itself
indubitable marks of a vegetable origin, from the traces of organi
zation still apparent in almost every part of its substance, was de
posited ages before it was wanted, as a future substitute for the fuel
which in the meantime has been derived from the actually existing
vegetable kingdom.
It is not intended here to enter into the general consideration of
those geological formations called coal fields, which are the reposi
tories of this useful mineral : but there 'is one circumstance in their
history so evidently calculated to facilitate the labour of man in ob
taining this substance, and to extend its supply, and so remarkably

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 63
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 ruptured masses into various directions.
Now, had the strata remained undisturbed, a very considerable pro
portion of the coal which is now quarried would most probably never
have been obtained by human industry : for, the strata dipping down
from the circumference towards the centre of the basin, that perpen
dicular depth, beyond which it is practically impossible to work the
coal, would soon have been reached in the operation of mining. But,
in consequence of the rupture and consequent dislocation of the
strata, many of those portions which were originally deposited at
such a depth beneath the surface as would have rendered the work
ing of them impossible, 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, of the immediate importance
of the elements of fire and water* to human life : for this punish
ment consisting, in part, in an interdiction from the use of water,
compelled the individual so punished to fly from his native neigh
bourhood, in order to obtain that necessary article of support else
where : and, hence, banishment and interdiction from fire and water
became synonymous terms. There are few who have not expe
rienced the uneasy sensation occasioned by even a temporary pri
vation of this necessary : and the death that ensues upon a continued
privation of it is, perhaps, of all modes of death the most dreadful.
This we learn from the occasional accounts of individuals who have
escaped from shipwrecks, in which their companions had perished
* An apology will hardly be required for applying the term element to a sub
stance, which though it has long been experimentally ascertained to be a com
pound, will in a popular view be always considered as a simple body ; especially
if it be remembered that even among the ancients this term did not necessarily im
ply that the substance so called was absolutely a simple or uncompounded body.
It was sufficient with them, that, in all the known processes and phenomena of
nature, the substance presented itself under the same essential form: but they
were prepared to allow that elementary bodies ((tto/^si*) might possibly be re
solved into absolutely simple principles (a/>£*i).

64 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
amidst the agonies of thirst. And it is said of those unhappy vic
tims 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 the 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 compo
sition may be easily separated by the application of a moderate
degree of heat, or even by spontaneous evaporation at a common
temperature, without any further decomposition of the body ; the
muscles and skin consequently shrinking to such an extent, so 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 accidentally wedged in between a
wall and a wainscot, are subsequently found in the state above de
scribed. An experiment of a very simple character in itself, and very
easily made, will serve to ascertain, not only the proportional quan
tity of water of composition 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 commonly called : which characters depend
on the water 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 gra
dually 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-mentioned 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 directly evident
But if we would have a familiar illustration of its importance in
the daily and hourly occurrences of life, let us in imagination ac
company an individual of moderate rank and condition in society,

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 65
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 various 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 in the linen in which he is partially 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 indirect and remote necessity S
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 dressing 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 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 prohably been
formed, without the application of water during some part of the
process of making them.
By water the medical principles of various vegetable and mineral
substances are extracted, and rendered potable ; which could not be
introduced into the animal system in a solid state : and this element
itself becomes occasionally a most powerful medicinal 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.
6*
vi ¦' ¦¦•

66 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
Section V.
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 m
every country and in every stage of society, not only with reference
to its medicinal effects, but as a mere luxury. 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 pleasurable sensation is the principal motive for the practice*
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 than pain itself, is encountered in the shock of the
cold bath, with a view to the preservation or restoration 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 almost every part of the world ;
but the enjoyment of the warm bath is in general not easily attaina
ble ; warm springs being comparatively of rare occurrence : 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 expedients which
human ingenuity discovers for the accomplishment of its purposes:
but such a contemplation is more particularly interesting when it
developes the revival of a principle, the knowledge of which had
been buried during many centuries of intervening ignorance ; and
thus justifies the reflection 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

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 67
of Entertaining Knowledge, is a dissertation on the Baths of the
Ancients ; 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
the furnace of the baths, a fact is stated, which is peculiarly applica
ble 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 necessarily have been directed to the most
economical mode of applying the fuel by which the heat of the fur
nace 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
applied 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 water
(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 general 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 preparing the contents of the second for the
higher temperature 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 supposed;
but also a similarity of custom, with reference to the enjoyment of
social intercourse, between communities not less widely separated
from each other by time and space, than by degree of civilization ;
between the luxurious inhabitants of imperial Rome eighteen centu
ries 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 va
pour 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

68 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
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 some
times consist of wretched caverns, 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 Missouri, 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, except 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 temperature sufficiently high
for their purposes.' "* i
It appears then, from the foregoing statement, that the peasants of
Russia, and the savages of North America, are in the habit of em
ploying the same means for converting water into vapour, which
were employed by the Romans at the most luxurious period in their
history : and to the peasants of Russia and the savages of North Ame
rica, 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 Ame
rica as among the luxurious inhabitants of ancient Italy, "it is very
uncommon for an individual to bathe alone ; he is generally accom
panied 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 indignities
that can be offered to him." (p. 190.)

Section VI.
The Fluidity of Water.
Familiarized as we are to the consequences resulting from that
property of water, whereby its particles move so easily among thetn-
* Sauer, in his account of Billings' expedition, describes the same kind of bath
as used in north-western America (p. 175.)

TO the physical condition of man. 69
selves as to yield to the least, impulse, provided there be space for
yielding, we rarely perhaps meditate on its importance : and yet it,
is entirely owing to this property that a free communication is capa
ble of being maintained between distant parts of the world by means
of the ocean at large, and between different parts of the same coun
try by means of navigable rivers ; or by those more than rivals of
navigable rivers, artificial canals.*
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 possibly have conjectured, but the
world could never have 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 actively instead of passively,
are daily produced results of equal importance to society, and
equally surprising in themselves. Who indeed can adequately de
scribe 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 hundred
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 a while
to investigate the means employed by nature to prevent its rapid
conversion 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 prevented,
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 at
mosphere by the process of evaporation is limited in two ways ; first,
by the air's incapability of holding in suspension more than a certain
proportion ; and secondly, by the restraining effect of the pressure
of the atmosphere. But the rapid evaporation of water is also pre
vented by the comparatively low temperature at which all its natural
forms exist, even in tropical latitudes.
* It has been stated, on credible authority, that an agent of a great proprietor of
canals being incidentally asked, during a legal examination, for what purpose he
conceived rivers had been made, answered, "that, no doubt, they were intended to
feed canals."

70 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
The prevention of the sudden conversion of water into ice depends
on a peculiarity in its physical constitution, which is no less remark
able in a simply philosophical point of view, than beneficial in its
result to the great bulk of mankind. Water, in common with all
other forms of matter, is gradually contracted in its volume by a
dimunition of its temperature; and ultimately passes into a solid
state. It does not however continue to be condensed to the moment
of its congelation, but only to a certain degree of temperature ; from
whence it begins to expand ; and continues to expand till it arrives
at the point of congelation.
In this deviation from a general law we find a very beneficial ac
commodation to the wants of man : for had it been the property of
water to become more and more condensed as it approached the
point of congelation, one of the consequences would have been that
lakes and rivers, instead of becoming gradually frozen from the sur
face towards their bed, would almost in a moment have become one
solid mass of ice : and the evil that would be produced by such an
effect may be conjectured, by considering that whenever a long pro
tracted and severe frost has thickened to an unusual extent the super
incumbent stratum of ice, the difficulty of breaking through the stra
tum, in order to arrive at the water beneath, is proportionally in
creased, and sometimes becomes practically insuperable.
It will be interesting to trace the steps by which this providential
law of nature is manifested : and the whole process is easily ren
dered intelligible to any one who will simply bear in mind these three
points, namely, that the average temperature of lakes and rivers is dur
ing the heat of summer more or less above the 40th degree of Fahren
heit's scale ; that water itself at about the 40th degree is of its greatest
density ; and that under all common circumstances it freezes, or be
comes 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 Fah
renheit ; and a gradual reduction of its temperature to take place
from that moment by the effect of a constantly diminishing tempera
ture of the air ; under such circumstances the following phenomena
would occur. The particles of the water at the surface becoming
more condensed, that is heavier, as they become cooler, would sink
towards the bottom, and be replaced by the hitherto subjacent par
ticles ; which in their turn, undergoing a similar decrease 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 progressive decrease
of temperature would have an expansive 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, re
maining on the surface, would continue to be expanded and made
still lighter till they had reached the temperature of 32° ; at which
degree, under ordinary circumstances, they would freeze. But the

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN, 71
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 comparatively longer time
in a liquid state ; and would be easily procured for general purposes,
by making partial openings through the frozen surface. Now if the
density of water continued to increase in a regular progression' to the
moment of congelation, it would necessarily happen, from the sinking
of the particles gradually thus condensed, that at some given moment
the temperature of the whole mass, still in a liquid state, would have
arrived at the freezing point; and consequently the whole mass
would have been frozen, or become solid, at the same moment. The
possibility of such a simultaneous congelation is not merely a philo
sophical deduction, it sometimes actually occurs. Thus, under cer
tain circumstances, 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 agi
tation, 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 instances formed
by the progressive accumulation of various torrents ; and these
are produced by that portion 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, from the accumulation of that por
tion 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 atmo
sphere, is precipitated from it in dews or rain, among the least ad
mirable instances of the provision made by nature for a constant sup
ply of the wants of man.
The mechanism, if the term be allowable, by which the formation

72 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
of clouds and the occasional descent of rain are regulated, resides
in the variableness of the state of the heat and electricity of the at
mosphere : in consequence of which a given mass of air is incapable
of retaining, in solution or suspension, the same quantity of moisture
which it did before ; and hence that moisture is precipitated in the
form of dews and fogs ; or, being previously condensed into accu
mulated masses of clouds, is discharged 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 refer
ence 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 at
mosphere by the process of evaporation, 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 any useful
extent ;* and the formation of springs and rivers would be as effectu
ally 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 substance 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 heterogeneous particles which are
either naturally or accidentally contained in it ; there still remains
the medium which is the receptacle or vehicle of those various sub
stances : and this medium is indeed that, which in common appre
hension is understood to be the atmosphere itself.
• 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.)

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 73
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 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, principally, on its capa
bility 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 atmospherical 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
add 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. At
mospherical 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 character, but in
timately blended together in the proportion of four to one. Of these
two fluids, that which is in the smaller proportion is not only capa
ble of supporting life, when respired or breathed alone ; but is capa
ble of supporting it for a much longer period than an equal volume
of atmospherical air would have supported it : and if, instead of be
ing 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 be easily borne bv 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 In
stant. By numerous experiments, which it is at present unnecessary to
describe, it has been ascertained, that many of the metals are capa
ble of attracting and combining with this respirable part of the air-:
during which process the metallic body assumes an earthy charac
ter, and becomes increased in weight; while the weight of the aiiv
in which the experiment has been conducted, becomes diminished
7

74 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
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 ori
ginal 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 quantity 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 quantity ; but also its power of supporting life and flame.
¦ If, instead of a metal, certain inflammable substances be employed,
similar changes are effected on the air ; and the inflammable sub
stance, 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 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 hundred 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 recognised
from any other gas ; among the more important 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 narrow 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 car
bonic acid gas, under ordinary circumstances, weigh a little more
than forty-six grains ; and that a quantity of the same gas weighing

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 75
a hundred grains contains twenty-eight grains of carbon ; and the
following statement will be easily intelligible. It appears, from ex
periments 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 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 46§
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 respiration.
In an illustration of the general question of the adaptation of ex
ternal nature to the physical condition of man, it is clearly imma
terial whether, during the process of respiration, the carbonic acid
is supposed 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
discharged ; and yet the constitution of the body is such, that the
air could scarcely be introduced into any of its internal parts with
out occasioning the most serious consequences, if not death itself:
but by means of the circulation of the blood, that beautiful con
trivance 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, into contact with the air; and thus it is effectually re
moved from the system.

Section IX.
Effects of the Motion of the Air, as connected with Human Health, Spc.
In the history of water we had an opportunity of observing how
extensive are the benefits arising to mankind from that physical

76 adaptation of the atmosphere
property, by which its particles are capable of moving wifh the
greatest ease among each other : nor are the benefits less considera
ble, 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 immediately surrounding his
body — to such an individual indeed, under such circumstances, a
stagnant atmosphere becomes a benefit of the highest value ; not
only by preventing or moderating the painful sensation of cold ; but
by preventing the dissipation of that degree of heat which is neces
sary for the preservation of the vital principle, which in his unshel
tered state might otherwise possibly be soon extinguished. But let
circumstances be reversed ; and, instead of the wretched beggar
exposed to an inclement 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 atmosphere of a burning
sun ; how grateful to his feelings is the refreshing coolness occa
sioned 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
refreshing 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 counte
nance, 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 sur
rendered, who once perished in that dreadful dungeon of Calcutta?
In many instances nature tempers the high degree of heat be
longing to particular climates, by the periodical recurrence of cool
ing 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
medical topography of Malacca, furnishes a sufficient illustration.*
* 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. 77
" The Malay peninsula possesses, though within the tropics, and
almost under the equator, a very equable temperature and mild
climate. Whatever be the prevailing wind, the sea-breeze generally
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
are these breezes, that, unless during a storm, the influence of the
monsoon is scarcely perceptible. And so uniform is their effect,
with respect to the temperature of the air, that, throughout the year,
the variation does not exceed fourteen or fifteen degrees of Fahren
heit: being rarely higher than eighty-eight degrees, or lower than
seventy-four degrees."
And though the hurricanes, to which these regions are frequently
exposed, are occasionally most dreadful in their effects upon the
property and even the lives of the inhabitants; yet we may not
only be assured on general principles of reasoning that in the main
they are beneficial, but on some occasions we have immediate de
monstration of their remedying a greater evil. Thus when swarms
of a peculiar species of ant had, during many years, ravaged the
island of Grenada, to so serious an extent that a reward of twenty
thousand pounds had been offered to any one who should discover
a practicable method of destroying them ; and when neither poison
nor fire had effected more than a partial and temporary destruction
of them, they were at once swept awayby a hurricane and its ac
companying torrents of rain. Of the numbers in which these insects
occurred, some estimate may be formed from the following state
ment of an eyewitness of credible authority; who says "he had
seen the roads coloured by them for many miles together ; and so
crowded were they in many places, that the print of the horse's feet
was in a moment rilled up by the surrounding swarms."*
We who rarely are oppressed, for more than a few hours in a
whole summer, by such a state of the atmosphere as occasionally
precedes a thunderstorm, when no friendly breeze interposes to re
move the close and humid stratum of air which envelopes our
bodies, may well be thankful that our lot has not been cast in certain
regions of the earth ; in those Alpine valleys, for instance, whose
scarcely human inhabitants 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 observable 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,
* Philos. Trans. 1790, p. H7.
7*

78 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
to a stagnant atmosphere ; and to the reverberation of heat from the
sides ofthe mountains which bound those valleys, co-operating with
an alternation of piercing winds : the degree of that degradation at
least is always proportional to the action of those causes.
It is not necessary here to dwell minutely on the disgusting alte
ration 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 state
ment of the general fact. And it appears that, in the milder in
stances, the principal alteration which takes place is an enlargement
of the thyreoid gland ; which enlargement is by medical men called
'bronchocele, and by the inhabitants of the Alps goitre.-f In the in
stances of extreme alteration, the stature rarely reaches the height
of five feet; the skin becomes unnaturally 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 cretinism the degree of alterations are innume
rable. And, as indicating the connexion between this unnatural
state of the individual, and the atmosphere which he habitually re
spires, the following observation 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 mala
dies vanish."J
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 abstruse a character in itself to
claim a close investigation in a treatise like the present: besides
which, it will be examined in a separate treatise by others. What
ever may be the moral effects either of simple sounds, or of certain
combinations of sounds, and such effects though apparently of a
fugitive character 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 soothe the
whole nervous system so as to induce sleep. There are few perhaps
who have not experienced such an effect, from long continued atten-
* Change of Air, &c. by James Johnson, M. D. London, 8vo. 1831.
f 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 re
markable both on account of their beauty, and the symmetry and full developement
of their whole body. ^
t Change of Air, &c. p. 58. '$,

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 79
tion a to 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 ceas
ing 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 unpleasant sensation familiarly
described under the term, set on edge. Even in the appalling sensa
tion 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 danger 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 unrea
sonable to suppose that an analogy exists between the sense of hear
ing and the other senses, with reference to the objects of their' seve
ral 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 respective
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 observes, 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 men
tal association, the most powerfully excites the 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."
Henbt IV. Part II. Act I. Scene 1.
The author of the " Pleasure of Memory" not less forcibly illus
trates 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.
Nor is the principle less powerfully illustrated in that most beauti
ful 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 en
tering into all the rathos, of the scene represented by the sacred poet
to the imag:mtion?

80 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
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 de
pend 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 con
sequences of his infatuated conduct had fully developed themselves in
unforeseen reverses, Napoleon, driven to the necessity of defending
himself within his own kingdom with the shattered remnant 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 application of
those military principles which first exercised 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 feelings ; and con
demned the tenour of his whole subsequent 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 tempestu
ous career. He might perhaps with truth 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 hu
miliating, 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 pro
bably 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, fyc.
I proceed now to consider the effects of the atmosphere, while in
a state of motion, in aiding the various arts and operations of civilized

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 81
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 sub
stances which require to be deprived of all sensible moisture, in or
der to be applicable to the immediate purposes of life ; nor in order
to be capable 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 gene
ral only be effected by exposure to the open air : but as that portion of
the air, which is in contact with the moistened substance, would soon
be so far saturated with the vapour arising from it as to be incapa
ble of absorbing more, it must necessarily be replaced by successive
portions of fresh air ; in order that the substance may be thoroughly
dried : and hence we see the advantage of currents of air, or, in com
mon 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 con
version take place should it during the process, as is most likely to
happen, be exposed to rain. The same difficulty would occur, but
attended with much more serious effects, in the case of sheaves of
wheat or barley, 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 it
self 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 una
vailable, 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 occa
sions, the same advantages occur from the same cause, and are ex
plicable in the same way. But there is one instance, of very familiar
occurrence, where the effect of a free ventilation 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 in
sensible 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 indi
vidual, from the peasant to the noble, who has not often experienced
the comfortless state of the interior of his habitation from this cause.
The opulent indeed, supposing that nature did not provide the remedy,
might easily remove, and often do accelerate the removal of the
evil, by the introduction of currents of air artificially heated : but the
indigent, incapable of commanding so expensive a remedy, would
meet with serious detriment, did not a timely change in the state of
the atmosphere enable it to re-absorb the moisture which had pre-

82 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
viously been discharged from it ; for many parts of the furniture of
their habitation would be injured, or even destroyed by the moisture
imbibed by them: and with respect to a much more important point,
a healthy state of body, both the opulent and the indigent would be
alike sufferers, from a continued exposure to the external atmosphere
in such a state.
In the foregoing instances currents of air have been considered as
acting on a fixed point as it were, or on bodies nearly stationary.
Let us now consider their action on bodies capable of being set in
motion, as nautical vessels of all kinds, and we shall not fail to see
the importance of that action to some of the highest interests of man.
To those, of whatever condition in life, who are surrounded by
the numerous resources of a commercial city, it is immediately of
little import, unless as a question of mere corporeal feeling, whether
the air be in a state of perfect calm, or freshened by a breeze ; and
whether that breeze be from the east, or from the west. To the agri
culturist even it is comparatively of little interest, unless at particular
seasons, whether the wind be high or low, or from what quarter it may
come ; further than as particular states and directions of the wind
are indications of rain or drought. But to those " who go down to '
the sea in ships, and occupy their business in great waters," not only
the degree of force, but the direction of the wind, is of the highest
moment : while on many occasions, even in the present advanced
state of science and naval architecture, a motionless state of the at
mosphere, 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 vari
ations 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, the scene is at one changed, and all is alacrity
and life.
In some parts of the world Providence has compensated for the
disadvantages arising from the general uncertainty of the wind, by
the continued regularity of its direction through stated seasons: in
consequence of which, the merchantman calculates upon the com
mencement and duration of his voyage with a degree of security and
confidence, which sets him comparatively at ease as to the event.
These periodical currents of air indeed have been named from this
very circumstance the trade winds : and, in illustration of their adap
tation to the purposes of commerce, a more striking instance perhaps
could not be adduced than the following, which is given in a volume,
entitled, " Four Years Residence in the West Indies," written by a
gentleman by the name of Bayley.* In the description of the island
* London, 8vo, 1830, p. 292.

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 83
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 har
bour one morning, and immediately attracted the notice of the sur
rounding crowd ; and the history of its unexpected appearance is
thus given. " Every one has heard of the little fishing smacks em
ployed in cruising along the coast of Scotland ; which carry herrings
and other fish to Leith, Edinburgh, or Glasgow, worked by three or
four hardy sailors, and generally commanded by an individual having
no other knowledge of navigation than that which enables him to
keep his dead reckoning, and to take the sun with his quadrant at
noonday. " It appears that a man who owned and commanded 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, ne 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 natives 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 voy
age, 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 anchor 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 cusrent 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-westerly mon
soons. But, if we would view the subject in all its magnitude, let
us contemplate with a philosophic eye the haven of any one of the
larger sea-ports of Europe ; filled with vessels from every maritime
nation of the world, freighted not only with everything which the
natural wants of man demand, or which the state of society has
rendered necessary to his comfort, but with all which the most re
fined luxury has been able to suggest. " Merchandise," to use the
words of Scripture, " of gold, and silver, and precious stones, and

84 ADAPTATION OF THE ATMOSPHERE
of pearls, and fine linen, and purple, and silk, and scarlet, and all
thyine wood, and all manner vessels of ivory, and all manner
vessels of most precious" wood, and of brass, and iron, and marble,
and cinnamon, and odours, and ointments, and frankincense, and
wine, and oil, and fine flour, and wheat, and beasts, and sheep, and
horses, and chariots."
But the importance of all the foregoing points of consideration in
the history of the relation of the air to human wants is far inferior
to that highest and most beneficial of all its relations, the production
of the human voice: for from this source arises articulate language;
without which medium of communication between man and man,
what would become of the most important transactions of the busi
ness of life, as well as of its most rational pleasures, the charms of
social converse ? But the consideration of the mechanism of the
human voice is appropriated to a distinct treatise : and the use of
language is adapted rather to the moral than to the physical condi
tion of man : and I therefore forbear to dwell on a theme in itself of
the highest interest.
In dismissing the subject of atmospherical air, I would wish to ob
serve how beautiful an instance its history affords of the multiplicity
of beneficial effects, of very different characters, produced by one
and the same agent; and often at one and the same moment. Thus
while we have seen the air of the atmosphere' serving as the re
servoir of that mass of water from whence clouds of rain, and con
sequently springs and rivers are derived, we have also seen that it
at the same time prevents, by the effect of its pressure on their sur
face, the unlimited evaporation and consequent exhaustion of the
ocean, and other sources, from whence that mass of water is sup
plied. 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 intercourse between different nations in which the welfare 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 incompatible with life.

85

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
invisible vapour, and consequently are without sensible form and
colour : and that others, as light, and heat, and electricity, are not
only without form and colour, 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 consists of objects characterised by
properties very different from those we have been lately consider
ing; remarkable, as a class, for the mathematical precision 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
entering into union with each other, and of which the natural com
binations are extremely numerous. But, as might be anticipated
from the general analogy of nature, the advantages arising to man
kind from this mixture of character are infinitely greater than if
the individual minerals had existed in a state of purity, and uncom-
bined with each other. Thus, to take the most familiar, and per
haps the most important instance,, almost all natural soils consist
principally of mixtures of the three earths called silex, 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 principally of various
combinations of the two earths called silex and alumine ; and al
though many of those properties which make clay valuable are
communicated by the alumine, the silex contributes very considera
bly towards the general' utility of the compound.

86 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
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 exceptions, wherever man exists in a state of
society, 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 habitations ; 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 renewed exertion of
his bodily powers : and very few are the situations which do not
afford convenient materials for the purposes of building.
In whatever situation then man may be placed, he will most pro
bably 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 deco
rated with some ornamental additions, we may be certain that
society exists in a very low state of civilization ; so that sculpture,
as an artificial refinement, seems to be a natural, consequence of
architecture. 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 department 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 feeling 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 unerringbow,

The God of life, and poesy and light ;
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."*
• Childe Harold, canto IV. stanza 161.

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 87
I will not here attempt to trace the history of architecture, con
sidered as an art characteristic of civilized society : for in such an
attempt our reasoning 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 necessary to
some of the chief wants and comforts of individuals ; 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.* 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 considering.
Omitting, however, those more remarkable instances 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
sensation the savage is directed so to adjust the various joints and
muscles of his limbs as to balance his body when in danger of fall
ing, by a similar power he is 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.f Numerous traces of such an instinct are observable in the
* In the construction for instance of military fortifications, and piers, and
bridges, &c.
tyrhe 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 wonder
ful : for, although the natives have no instruments of iron, or in any way resem
bling 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 j and, by thus weakening it, occasion its downfall. By a
similar process they burn away the branches and the upper part of the tree ; and,
raising the trunk thus prepared on forked props, so as to support it at a conveni
ent 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."

88 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
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 as
serted that such amusements 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 imitations of the necessary engagements of after-life. It
has been sometimes supposed that the inclining branches of an ave
nue of elms or other trees suggested the idea of the gothic aisle;
but such a supposition seems both unnecessary in itself, and incor
rect 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 European
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 ha
bitations necessarily differ in different, parts of the world, in conse
quence of the difference of the materials afforded by the subjacent
strata; and, accordingly, an experienced eye will conjecture, al
most with certainty, the character of the subjacent strata, from the
nature of the materials employed in the buildings erected on the sur
face : or, conversely, if the nature of the subjacent strata be antece
dently 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 surprise 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 determined1 by the particular 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 population of a country increases, wood be
comes more and more scarce ; and then brick and stone begin to be
employed : but when the population has increased to a very consi
derable extent, those materials almost entirely supersede the use of
wood, unless in the interior of the building: and hence, in this densely-
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
•Throughout the interior of Russia and of Siberia the greater part of the build
ings in every town were, within a few years, entirely of wood.

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 89
the difficulty of working it being increased proportionally to its de
gree of hardness, it ought not to escape our notice, in a treatise, of
which it is the professed object to illustrate the adaptation of exter
nal nature to the physical condition of man, that many of the com
mon 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 oi freestone ; yet even with respect to such as are of the hard
est and toughest quality, an equal degree of ease in working them is
easily attainable by practice. To an unpractised workman, for in
stance, nothing is more difficult than to give a determinate form, by
the hammer or chisel, to granite, slate, or flint; and yet a little ex
perience 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 instances necessary to the stability of the intended
structure, that they should be consolidated together by some inter
mediate substance : for it would very rarely happen that the
separate stones could be obtained 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 con
struction of the larger circle of Stonehenge ; where the upper extre
mity 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 expensive for com
mon purposes ; and as the labour and expense of uniting together,
by cramps of iron or other mechanical means, the very great num
ber of stones requisite for the construction of even a small building,
would be endless ; we at once see the importance 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 antecedently to history, it is not worth while to spend

90 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
any time in conjecturing how it was first discovered : but it is quite
in unison with the intention of the present 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 applica
tion 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 ne
cessary wants of mankind : but in what may not improperly be
called the poetry of those arts, they are capable, in their applica
tion, of eliciting the highest powers of the imagination : for surely
this may with propriety be affirmed 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, Thorvaldson, and o'ther 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 Smeaton ; 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 pene
tration, the resources, and the activity of his genius ? Consider the
nature of the task which he had engaged to perform ; his limited and
uncertain opportunities of action ; the failures of others who had pre
ceded him in a similar undertaking ; the consequent necessity of new
principles, and new combinations, in his plan of operations ; the for
midable dangers he was continually under the necessity of encoun
tering ; 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 pre
vail around it ; elevated but a few feet above the level of the sur
rounding 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 experi-
* One exception to this assertion perhaps exists, in a work on a similar subject
by Banks ; in the church of Ashbourne, Derbyshire.

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 91
ence is here of little avail, and common 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 com
bat the force of those overpowering elements to which the future
structure is to be constantly 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 expanded 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 intended
work. "On this occasion," he himself says,* "the natural figure of the
waist or bole of a large spreading oak presented itself to my imagi
nation. Let us for a moment consider this tree: suppose at twelve
or fifteen feet above its base, it branches out in every direction, and
forms a large bushy top, as we often observe. 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 particular 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 one diameter is
generally reduced by an elegant curve, concave to the eye, to a di
ameter less by at least one third, and sometimes to half of its origi
nal base. From thence its taper diminishing more slow, its sides by
degrees come into a perpendicular, and for some height form a cy
linder. " After that, a preparation of more circumference becomes neces
sary for the strong insertion and establishment 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 resist : 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 part of its cloth
ing, as it was that of the lighter when all its spreading ornaments
were exposed 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 practical arts at least. Industry, both
* A Narration of the Building, 8cc. of the Eddystone Lighthouse, London, 1791,
p. 42.

92 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
that which resists the listlessness arising from continuity and same
ness of pursuit ; and, still more, that which, though repeatedly re
pressed by unexpected impediments, as repeatedly recovers its elas
ticity ; 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 crowned 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
aDternumque manebit."
We now turn to the efforts of genius, of another, and, intrinsically,
a higher order — to that beautiful composition of Chantrey, to which
allusion has been already made. A different task is here to be ac
complished : it is not the storm of the physical elements which is to
be resisted, but the poignant grief of the bereaved parent is to be
assuaged; and that, not by any nepenthe which may obliterate the
memory of lost happiness ; but by, I had almost said, the living image
of the very objects themselves from which that happiness arose, and
in which it centred. Alone, and undistracted by the presence of
surrounding friends, the widowed mother approaches in mournful
silence the consecrated aisle ; where, softly clasped in each other's
arms, she sees her beloved children resting in the repose of sleep
rather than of death : and gazing on them with intense affection, she
feels not sorrow for a while ; but, indulging in a dream which
almost realizes her past happiness, would fold her treasures to her
bosom, were she not too conscious that the cold embrace would
dissipate the fond illusion.

Section III.
Gems and Precious Stones.
If it were the purpose of this treatise to point out the adaptation
of external nature to the moral as well as to the physical condition
of man, it might be easily shown, that, however an undue degree of
attention to outward ornaments is blameable, a moderate degree of
attention is both allowable and right: otherwise, and it is an instance
that outweighs all others, it would not have been observed in the de
corations of the temple of Solomon, nor in the original ordinations
respecting the dress of the Levitical priesthood. Those substances
consequently, which are capable of being applied to ornamental
purposes, become, in our mode of using them, a test of virtue, in
the same manner as our ordinary clothing, and food, and sleep ; all
of which, though even necessary to our existence, may be abused by
a luxurious indulgence in them. But at present I am no further
concerned with the moral part of the question, than to infer that, if

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 93
an attention to external ornament be not only allowable, but right,
we may antecedently expect that materials forks exercise would be
provided by nature : and that is indeed the fact.*
It would be difficult however to determine, which of the three
kingdoms, the animal, vegetable, or mineral, is the most prolific
source of those beautiful forms and colours which are principally
valued as objects of external ornament. We do not indeed observe
in any flower that iridescent play of colours which characterises
some varieties of the opal and felspar, among minerals ; and the
plumage of certain birds and the scales of certain fish, among ani
mals : but in elegance and variety of form, and in splendour and
simplicity of colour, the vegetable world will be found to yield
neither to the animal nor mineral. Mineral substances, however,
from their rarity as well as beauty, are more prized ; and from the
durability of their substance are more permanently applicable to
ornamental purposes than those either of animal or vegetable origin ;
and therefore serve better to illustrate the principle of this treatise.
From among those substances which in commercial language are
called precious stones, though some so called are not really derived
from the mineral kingdom, it is proposed to select the diamond as a
pre-eminent example of the whole class ; because, in addition to those
properties which render it valuable as an ornamental gem, there are
some points in its history which give it a peculiar worth. It will
naturally excite the surprise of those, who are unacquainted with
the chemical history of this substance, to learn that the purest dia
mond does not essentially differ from a particular variety of common
coal ; or 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 combi
nation 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 proportion of
ashes, in consequence of their containing foreign matter.
And here we can hardly fail to notice a very remarkable instance
of what may be called the economical 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 Eorrodale 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
* " Wherefore did nature pour her bounties forth ?"- &c.
Comus, line 726, &c.

94 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
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 consequence ! diamond and plumbago, though really combusti
ble 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 belonging to it: for, in consequence of its great degree of
hardness, it is capable of cutting and polishing not only tbe hardest
glass, but even the hardest gems: and if we consider how usuful 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 difficulty be divided by any common mechanical
instrument, 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 accomplishes that end. A small diamond no
larger than a mustard seed, brought to a point and fixed in a conve
nient 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 con
jecture of Sir Isaac Newton respecting its chemical nature. That
philosopher having observed, that the refractive power of transpa
rent substances 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 inflammable principle; which
opinion was subsequently confirmed by direct experiment. It will be
remembered by the chemical reader that on the same ground he made
the same conjecture with respect to water, and with the same suc
cess. And never, perhaps, did the eye of philosophy penetrate
more unexpectedly 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 antece
dently expected that it might be dissipated into air by the process of
combustion ? and, with respect to the other subject of his conjecture,
if any principle was opposed to combustibility in the opinion of man
kind it was water — " Aquas contrarius ignis."

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 95

Section IV.
The Distribution and relative Proportions of Sea and Land; and ihe
geological Arrangement and physical Character of some of the su
perficial 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 themselves to
the eye in every part of the world ; and which are either at once in
telligible, or easily demonstrable, to the commonest observer.
Of such phenomena the most prominent are the general distribu
tion 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 accumulation of ice near the poles ;
(the cooling, probably, 'of the general mass of the atmosphere, and
the consequent production of currents of air ;) yet of its mode of dis
tribution, and of the relative extent of its surface, we readily appre
hend the reason ; simply in considering that all those forms of water
which contribute to the fertilization of the earth, or the support of
animal life, are derived from the ocean. Were the superficial ex
tent of this therefore much less than it is, the quantity evaporated
would not be sufficient for the intended purposes ; or, were the dis
tribution different from what it is, were the sea, for instance, to oc
cupy one hemisphere, and, the land the other, the water evaporated
would not be so equally diffused through the atmosphere as it is at
present. And, with respect to the land, how beautifully does the particular
arrangement and character of its surface conspire with its general
distribution, to equalize the diffusion of the water that is discharged
upon it from the atmosphere ! The truth of the proposition contained
in those lines, " Rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis, at ille
Labitur, et labetur in omne volubilis scvum,"
depends on the nature of the particular arrangement and character,
to which allusion has just been made. On the one hand, the general
surface of the land ascending from the sea on all sides towards some
central ridge or district, called the watershed of the country, all the
rain that does not sink beneath the surface is accumulated into rivers ;

96 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
which naturally descend towards, and ultimately reach, the sea : and,
on the other hand, the superficial strata being in general incapable
of immediately absorbing the rain which falls upon them, the descent
of the water is the necessary result of the inclination of the surface.
But if, from partial causes, such an inclination of the land is either
wanting, or the course of rivers is impeded by the unrepressed growth
of reeds and sedge, the adjoining district is overflowed, and at length
converted into a stagnant marsh. It is from such a physical cause,
that, at this moment, the ancient site of Babylon attests the truth of
prophecy ; being still, as it has been for ages, " a possession for the
bittern, and pools of water."
But that which is called the watershed of any large tract of land is
not simply the most elevated portion of the whole surface : it consists
also, in a greater or less degree, of ranges of mountains ; down the high
inclined sides of which the rain immediately descends in numerous
torrents, which by their gradual accumulation 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 characterised 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 comparatively flat districts,
sinks beneath the surface of the earth, reservoirs of water are formed :
from which, either spontaneous springs arise, or into which, artificial
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 in
terest than a bed of gravel ; consisting, as it usually does, of nothing
but fragments of broken pebbles and sand, heaped together in appa
rently inextricable confusion. Yet such beds, dispersed as they are
very generally over the surface of the regular strata, administer ma
terially to the wants of man ; in affording him the means of supply
ing himself 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 degree of cohesion by which they are
united, the whole mass is necessarily porous: and hence, readily
transmiting the rain which falls on its surface, becomes charged

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 97
with water to an extent proportional to the quantity of rain which
has penetrated it ; being 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
excavations which children are accustomed to make in the sand of
the' sea-beach, while yet charged with moisture 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 appreciate 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 dis
tance, or incur a very serious, and, finally perhaps, 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 con
venient occasional ballast for sailing vessels: so that, if we confine
our view to the means afforded by gravel beds of supplying the or
dinary wants of man, their history may be comprised in a few words.
Not so, if we view them with reference to their origin, and the na
ture of their occasional contents : and little dreams any one, save the
professed geologist, what a mine lies hid, in those confused heaps of
ruin, for the exercise of man's intellectual 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 inge
nuity 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 ingenuity,
has all but exhibited some of these animals to our view in the very
act of devouring and digesting their food.
' How often, and with what intense interest, has not the scientific
* From the observation of analogous arrangement in the general strata of the
earth, namely, that those which are pervious to water alternate with those which
are impervious to water, Mr. William Smith, " the father of English geology," be
came acquainted with the origin of springs, and the true principles of draining.
y

98 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
geologist perused the original essays of Cuvier ; in which, setting out
from the casual observation of a simple fragment of a fossil bone be
longing to some extinct species, he has established not only the class
and order, but even the size arid proportions 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 academi
cal students listened with admiration to the clear and vivid eloquence
of the other of those philosophers, the Geological Professor of Ox
ford, 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 philosophical, for I will not say fortunate conjecture, une
quivocal proofs of the actual remains of it ; not only in its original,
but also in its digested state. I here allude particularly to his verifi
cations of the masses of digested bone which he has most satisfac
torily 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 between them.
It is natural that I should feel a pleasure in recording 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 reve
rend W. Conybeare, the admiration of whose comprehensive and
commanding views, as well in fossil as in general geology, is not con
fined to his own xountrymen ; the members of the French Institute
having attested their sense of his pre-eminent talents by the high
honour of selecting him, a few years since, as one of their foreign
associates — an honour 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 arguments in favour of
his opinion that the animals of the gravel beds, and the caverns,
habitually frequented the spots where these remains are found, are
not only ingenious, but are occasionally supported by facts which al
most necessarily lead to that conclusion : and it is not intended to
attempt to invalidate them. They do not indeed stand in the way
of the objection now to be advanced : this objection being applica
ble to that part of theory only which considers the destruction of

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 99
these animals as the effect of the Mosaic deluge. Nor is the objec
tion, in its origin, so much directed against the insulated supposition
thatthese organic remains are immediate proofs of the Mosaic deluge;
as against the principle of supporting the credibility of the sacred
Scriptures on any unascertained interpretation of physical pheno
mena. Such a support appears to be imprudent, as well as unneces
sary : uunecessary, because the moral evidence of the credibility of
the Scriptures is of itself fully sufficient ; imprudent, because we have
the strong ground of antecedent analogy, not only in another but in
this very branch of knowledge, for anticipating a period in the pro
gress of science, when particular phenomena may be interpreted in
a very different manner from that in which they are intepreted at
present. Thus the explanation of the motions of our solar system,
which is now admitted very generally, without any fear of weaken
ing the authority of Scripture, was once as generally impugned on
the principle of that very fear. Time was also, and indeed within
the last century, when the shells and other organic remains, which
are imbedded in the chalk and other solid strata, were considered to
be the remains and proofs of the Mosaic deluge ; and yet at the pre
sent day, without any fear of injuring the credibility of the Scrip
tures, they are admitted very generally to have been deposited an
teriorly to the Mosaic deluge. And who will venture to say, in the
infancy of a science like geology, that the same change of opinion
may not happen with respect to the organic remains of the gravel
beds and caverns. Nor indeed do I think, and I expressed this opinion
nearly twenty years since, that the organic remains of the gravel
beds and the caverns can be, on even mere philosophical grounds,
adduced as physical proofs of the Mosaic deluge. For as according
to the Mosaic record it was the intention of the Deity on that occa
sion, in the midst of a very general destruction of individuals to pre
serve species, we should in reason expect, among the organic remains
of that catastrophe, a preponderance, at least, of the remains of ex
isting species : since, although some species may have been lost sub
sequently to the deluge, these naturally 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 coulor, or in other points of what may be called their exter
nal 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 extended examination
of the question on the present occasion : but, could it be proved that
visible traces of the Mosaic deluge must necessarily exist, arguments
might be adduced to show both where those traces ought to be expect
ed, and that they do actually exist. But the deluge itself was evidently

100 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
a miracle, or an interference with the laws which usually regulate
tbe operation of second causes : and whoever admits the force of the
reasoning, contained in Butler's Analogy of Natural and Revealed
Religion, will be disposed to allow that visible evidence of the catas
trophe may have been purposely obscured, in order to exercise our
faith in an exclusive 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
presumed that the human race had penetrated at the period of the
Mosaic deluge : but undoubtedly such a negative proof is not with
out considerable weight ; especially when taken in connexion with
the theory 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 say, " 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 ac
quiring a new geological sense, and a new' faculty of induction."*
After having taken a general survey of M. de Beaumont's obser
vations 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 pro
bable opinion, may, after the essays of M. de Beaumont, be now ad
vanced 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, derived 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 militate against
opinions, but a few years since held almost 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 fortune of every one
who enters on a field of investigation like our own. All the noble
generalizations of Cuvier, and all the beautiful discoveries of Buck-
land, 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." (p. 33.)
Mr. Sedgwick then proceeds to argue that different gravel beds
having been formed at different periods, it may happen from the na
ture of diluvial action, that mixtures of the materials of different beds
may occur ; and consequently that " in the very same deposite we
* See Prof. Sedgwick's address to the Geolog. Society, 1831, p. 29.

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 101
may find the remains of animals which have lived during different
epochs in the history of the earth." (p. 33.)
He then shows how, from the double testimony of the widely ex
isting 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 action :
though we ought in philosophical caution to' have hesitated in adopt
ing that opinion, because " among the remnants of a former world,
entombed in these ancient deposites, we have not yet found a single
trace of man, or of the works of his hands." (p. 34.) Lastly, he
strenuously denies that the facts of geological science are opposed to
the sacred records, 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 absence of human remains in
these diluvial beds of gravel, and the supposed antiquity of their for
mation, inasmuch as the phenomena of geology, and the testimony of
both sacred and profane history, " tell us in a language easily under
stood, though written in far different characters, that man is a recent
sojourner on the surface of the earth." (p. 35.)

Section VI.
Metals.
The atmosphere, and the vegetable, and animal kingdoms, being
three out of the four general departments 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 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 sup
ports 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 respect to the metallic species.
In that department of civilized intercourse which exists in the ex
change of the commodities of life, what other substance could be an
equivalent substitute for gold and silver, or even copper, as a medium
of that exchange? In what constant use, and of what immense im-i
portance, are some of the commonest metals 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 mankind 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 discovered ; but that
9*

102 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
the general value of the metals previously 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 assistance
of several of the metals. He could not, for instance, make his larger
purchases, nor pay his rent, without silver, gold, and copper. With
out 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 containedin it, which is not held together, to a greater
or less extent, by means of the same metal : and many articles 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 humble mirror : co
balt and platina, and metals perhaps more rare and costly than these,
as chrome, are employed 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 ingre- •
dient in the shot with which he charges it ; for it is arsenic which
enables the shot, during the process of its granulation, to acquire that
delicately spherical form by which it is characterised. So that the
whole number of metals made use of by society at large for common
purposes, amounting to less than twenty, more than half of these are
either directly used by the mere peasant, 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 degree of hardness is the property of principal
consideration : but, in addition to this, metallic bodies possess some
peculiar properties which very greatly increase their value. Thus,
under a force acting perpendicularly on their surface, as under re
peated 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 thin
nest paper ; which property 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 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

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 103
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 dif
ferent metals : to show, for instance, that those metals which possess
malleability in a greater ratio than ductility, or ductility in a greater
ratio than malleability, are of infinitely greater value than if the con
verse were true : and so with respect to the property of fusibility.
Thus gold, being comparatively scarce, and principally valuable on
account of its colour, its resplendency, and its remarkable power of
resisting the action of the air, and of various agents which readily
tarnish or rust the more common metals, (all which properties reside
on the mere surface,) a given quantity 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 repre-
. sent the most costly, at a comparatively trifling expense : while in
the degree of its ductility, which in gold would be, for general pur
poses, of little moment, it is inferior to most of the metals.*
Iron, again, is malleable to a degree which renders it most valua
ble as a material for fabricating all kinds of instruments for me
chanical, domestic, or philosophical 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 su
perior 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 possibility 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
* 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 compa
ratively fine wire. Dr. Wollaston 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.

J04 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
other instances, than in the application of tin to the surface of copper
or of iron: but, were there a hundred similar instances, they would
not lessen the value of this, as affording an illustration of that prin
ciple which has been borne in mind throughout this treatise. Con
sider 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 and on every other occasion, we may say
of the Creator of material things — " In wisdom hast Thou made them
all." 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 obser
vable would be destroyed. Thus, of the three metals now under
consideration, 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
malleability in comparatively a slight degree : and, correspondently
^with the extent of their use, iron and copper 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 superficial coat
ing of tin, which is commonly applied to the inner surface of such
vessels ; tin being neither easily rusted, nor capable of communicat
ing 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 inconve
nience that would ensue. Let the tin have that degree of malleabi
lity, 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 instruments; yet, from the small quantity in which it oc
curs 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 compara
tively of little use ; and from the low temperature at which it melts,
it could not be readily 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 themselves would
be unfit, from their easy fusibility, to withstand that degree of heat

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 105
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 re
spect to their fusibility, which is of the highest practical importance ;
for on this property depends the possibility of uniting together por
tions of the same, or of different 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 com
ponent metals : and hence it easily becomes a bond of union be
tween the two metals, or different portions of either of them. Such
an alloy, when so employed, is called a solder. In considering the
present subject, we cannot overlook a' remarkable analogy between
metallic substances and building stones, with reference to one mode
in which they may respectively be united to each other, so as to
form one solid mass ; mortar being to stones what solder is to me
tals. 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 surfaces of two bricks or stones by means of mortar,
the latter must be, if not in absolutely a fluid, yet in a soft and yield
ing state : and the final hardening of each is the efficient cause of
permanent union. The period indeed requisite for the due consoli
dation of the uniting medium is very different; the solder becoming
fixed in a few seconds, the mortar requiring some hours, perhaps
days, for its consolidation: but, in the end proposed, there is no es
sential 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 ex
temporaneous 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 proper
ties of any substance in general use : and yet this may be truly af
firmed of iron. For though, in one sense, its liability to rust dimi
nishes the value of this useful metal, because it is consequently al
most impossible to preserve it very long in an entire state ; yet, in
directly, this property, though detrimental to individuals, is benefi
cial 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 pro
bability of any failure in] its supply : and, in the next place, nume
rous branches of trade are kept in continued employ, both in working
the ore, and in meeting the constantly renewed demand for imple
ments 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 occasion, 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 valuable. Quicksilver
is the metal in question : and what an anomaly does it not present in

106 ADAPTATION OF MINERALS
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 becoming fluid, but by an elevation of tempera
ture to which they are hardly liable to be exposed, unless designedly:
lastly, in consequence of its fluidity, destitute of malleability and duc
tility ; which are among the most valuable properties of the metals
taken collectively ? This state of fluidity, however, 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 con
struction of the common thermometer and barometer ; the value, in
the case of the former instrument, 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 substance.*
And, in the case of the barometer, what fluid is there which could
supply the place of quicksilver, with any degree of convenience ?
since, from the great specific gravity of this metal, a column of the
perpendicular height of about thirty inches, sufficiently 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 instrument portable ? and yet, if not portable, it would
often be of no use when most wanted.
In those numerous philosophical experiments in which it is requi
site to insulate portions of various gaseous substances, for the pur
pose of examining their properties, how could the experimentalist
proceed without the use of the metal now under consideration ; which
by its fluidity readily yields its place to the various kinds of gas which
are to be transferred to vessels previously filled with the quicksilver ;
and, having no chemical affinity for the greater number of gaseous
substances, is calculated to retain them in an insulated and unaltered
state for an indefinite 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 containing these gaseous substances, to facilitate the
observations of tbe philosopher : for, if the glass were not both a
transparent body, and equally devoid as the quicksilver of any chemi
cal affinity for the gas contained in it, the metal itself would be of
* Quicksilver does not become solid till exposed to a temperature of about se
venty degrees below the freezing point in the scale of Fahrenheit ; nor does it
pass readily 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.

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 107
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, fyc.
It does not appear that the mineral kingdom contains a single
species capable of being employed as food : but there is one mineral
species, which indirectly 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, mankind could not exist, or at least never have
existed, without the constant use of it. Thus, though employed in
very small quantities at a time by any individual, and almost exclu
sively for the purpose either of preserving or of rendering his food
more palatable, this substance may fairly be classed am.Ong the prin
cipal necessaries of life : and, correspondently with this statement,
we find that nature has supplied it in abundance, indeed in profusion
often, in various parts of the globe : for, to say nothing of those ap
parently inexhaustible masses which occur among the solid strata of
the earth, and which have been constantly quarried through succes
sive ages from the earliest records of history, the ocean itself is a
never-failing source of this valuable substance. In other instances
salt springs afford the means of a ready supply : and, throughout a
considerable part of the sandy districts of Africa and Asia, the soil
itself abounds' with it.* The abundant supply of common salt coin
cides with its extensive utility. It is every where indispensable to
the comforts of man ; and it is every where found, or easily obtained
by him. And, though not to the same extent, the same observation
holds with reference to many other natural saline compounds. Thus
carbonate of potash, and natron or carbonate of soda, alum, borax,
sal ammoniac, and sulphate of iron, or green vitriol, which are most
* It does not belong to our present purpose to describe the common processes by
which the salt is obtained either from the sea, or from any other liquid that may
hold it in solution : but the following account of a particular process, for this pur
pose, so well illustrates the ingenuity of the human mind in taking advantage of
natural hints, if the expression may be permitted, that no excuse can be necessary
for its introduction. In Guiana there is a very common species of palm, the flowers
of which are enveloped by a sheath capable of holding many pints of water ; and
the density and general nature of the sheath is such, that the water contained in it
may be heated over a fire without destroying its substance : and the Caraibs actually
employ these sheaths, in evaporating the sea-water for the purpose of obtaining a
quick supply of salt. (Diction, des Sciences Nat. tom. xxxvii. p. 283, 4.)

108 adaptation of vegetables
extensively useful salts in many processes of the arts, are either found
abundantly in various parts of the world, or may be obtained by
very easy means : while a thousand other saline compounds, which
are rarely of any practical importance, are scarcely known to exist
in a native state. And it is probable that that useful metal, copper,
in consequence of its frequent occurrence in a native state, was em
ployed long before the mode of reducing iron from its ores had been
discovered ; as Werner (and Hesiod, and Lucretius, ages before him*)
conjectured.

CHAPTER VIII.
adaptation of vegetables to the physical condition of man.
Section I.
General Observations on the Vegetable Kingdom.
The vegetable kingdom has this distinction with reference to the
subject of the present treatise, that its productions are amongst the
first objects that forcibly attract the attention of young children ;
becoming to them the source of gratifications, which are among
the purest of which our nature is capable ; and of which even
the indistinct recollection imparts often a fleeting pleasure to the
most cheerless moments of after-life.
Who does not look back with feelings, which he would in vain
attempt to describe, to the delightful rambles which his native fields
and meadows afforded to his earliest years ? Who does not re
member, or at least fancy that he remembers, the eager activity
with which he was used to strip nature's carpet of its embroidery,
nor cease to cull the scattered blossoms till his infant hands were
incapable of retaining the accumulated heap? Who, on even
seeing the first violet of returning spring, much more on 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?
It may be said indeed that the pleasure of such recollections is
for the most part of a moral and intellectual nature ; and, so far, is
*Xa\*5 <f' fpya^ovTO, fti\ti; F oux. \<r%i iriSnfo;. EPr KAI HM. line 151.
Postering Ferri vis est, JErisque reperta.
Et prior iEris erat quam Ferri cognitus usus. Lccbet. V. 1285i

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 109
foreign to our present object : but the pleasure of the original en-<
joyment appears to be principally of a physical character; 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 at
tracted by the unexpected forms and colours of the plants and
flowers presented to his view, and his mind is instigated to gratify
the eager desire of possessing them, he necessarily subjects his limbs -
to that degree of exercise and fatigue, which contributes to the
general health of his body. Nor let such pleasures be undervalued
in their consequence : they give that moderate stimulus to the whole
system, which even the early age of infancy requires ; and, by shut
ting out the listlessness that would arise from inactivity, they be
come eventually the source of moral and intellectual improvement.
With reference to the primary wants of mankind at large, the
vegetable kingdom is of the highest importance. Let the earth
cease to produce its accustomed 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 vegetables. And, without the aid
of the same productions, we should be deprived of various sub
stances 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 ar
rangement.

Section II.
The Cocoa-nut Tree, including the formation of Coral Reefs.
For the purpose of introducing in a more particular 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 elsewhere : nor will it be an undue anticipation of
a subsequent 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 vegeta
ble 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 navi
gator, M. Peron, (Ann. du Mus. tom. vi. p. 30, &c.) that almost all
those countless islands of the Pacific Ocean, which are found to the
10

110 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
south of the equator between New Holland and the western coast
'of America, are either entirely or in part made up of coral : and ajl
the adjacent ocean abounds with coral reefs, which, constantly
augmenting, are constantly 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 Captain
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 Corallian Sea. (Flinders's Voyage, vol. ii. p. 314).
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 occasion 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-drowned 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 distinguishable. 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 carbonate of lime, however produced, are cemented
together so firmly by a glutinous secretion of the same anima], as
to acquire a degree of consistence, which not only forms a safe
habitation for a race of animalcules, from their soft texture most
obnoxious to external injuries ; but which is calculated to resist the
utmost action of the sea, and in many instances to protect the
original surface of the earth itself from its assaults. Thus almost all
the tropical islands, which Cook saw in the South Pacific Ocean,
are guarded from the sea, to a greater or less extent, by a reef of
* Forster's Voyage round the World, p. 14, 15.

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. Ill
coral rocks, extending out from the shore to the distance of six
hundred feet and farther ; and on this reef the force of the sea is
spent before it reaches the land : and thus nature has effectually
secured these islands from the encroachments of the sea, though
many of them are mere points when compared with that vast
ocean.* As the specific gravity of coral is greater than that of sea-water,
the structure of a coral reef necessarily commences either from the
natural bed of the ocean, or from the surface of some submarine
rock ; and, as may be collected from the nature of the soundings
among coral reefs, the whole structure is very frequently disposed
in the form of a crescent ; sometimes even approaching to a circle.
This crescent is, on the convex side, built up throughout in very
nearly a perpendicular direction ; so as to form a wall, which is
exposed to that quarter from whence a stormy sea most frequently
prevails. The interior of the structure seems gradually to shelve
off; so that about the centre of the inclosed, or partially inclosed
space, the sea is found of its natural depth. Correspondently with
such an arrangement, it happens usually that the soundings gradually
lessen from the centre of the area inclosed by a coral reef, towards
the exterior ridge ; and then suddenly sink to two hundred fathoms
or more.
To the foregoing observations I shall subjoin the opinion of Cap
tain Flinders on the process observed by nature in the formation of
coral reefs. " It seems to me," he says, " that when the animal
cules, which form the coral at the bottom of the ocean, cease to live,
there structures adhere to each other by virtue either of the glutinous
remains within, or of some property in salt water ; and the inter
stices 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 constant,
being arrived at the surface, affords a shelter ; to leeward of which
their infant colonies may be safely sent forth : and to this, their in
stinctive foresight, it seems to be owing, that the windward side of
a reef, exposed to the open sea, is generally, if not always, the high
est part ; rising almost perpendicularly, sometimes from the depth
of two hundred and perhaps many more fathoms. To be constant
ly 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
* Cook's Voyage, 1777, 4to. vol. i. p. 212.

112 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
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 ad
hesive property; and, remaining in a loose state, form what is
usually called 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 deposite 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."*
In the base of a coral island of the above description, 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 substances when the
cohesion began, and which in some cases were still separable from
the rock without much force.f Such sand-banks are found in dif
ferent stages of progress ; some being overflowed with every re
turning 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 pro
bable extension : for, reasoning on what has already been accom
plished, and on what is at this moment rapidly advancing, it is evi
dently probable that a new habitable surface of land may be event
ually produced, equal in extent to the whole of Europe, and pro
duced by the agency of a tribe of animals, 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 vegetable origin ; and are, even now, very com
monly called zoophytes, or animated plants.
Nor let us fail to observe, in the foregoing account, the physical
fitness for each other of two very different departments of nature.
The same geographical climate which gives birth to those animals,
* Flinders Voyage, vol. ii. p. 115, 116. f Ibid, p. 116.

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 113
w^hose 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 nutritious
food, both in a liquid and a solid form, but with materials for con
structing 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 produc
tions : but the seeds of various plants, as we have seen in the fore
going 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 ; containing 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 properties, if we
may rely on the accounts which have been given of them by dif
ferent authors ; and of the truth of those accounts there is no suffi
cient 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, supplying rafters, &c. ; and the leaves, when
plaited, making roofs and walls, which are impervious to wind and
rain. The statement of Johnston is confirmed by captain Seely, in
his account of Elloraf , who says that " when he was stationed at
Goa, in 1809, he lived, as many others did, in a cocoa-nut leaf house ;
and that although the period was in the very height of the monsoon,
and the house was on the sea-coast, it was comfortable and warm.
He believes that not a nail was used in the whole building : the rafters
and supporters, &c. were fastened on with string made of the fibrous
envelope of the cocoa-nut shell ; the wood was the tree itself; the
roof, walls, doors, and windows were the leaf." From the same
anthority we learn that the fibres, enveloping the shell of the nut,
may be woven into a cable by which ships of seventy-four guns have
safely rode out heavy gales, when European cables have parted.
In the Wernerian Memoirs, vol. v. p. 107, &c, is a very interest
ing account of the cocoa tree ; in which the author states that this
tree will grow on the sand of the sea-shore, where scarcely any
thing else will vegetate : which corresponds with the account of an
author above-mentioned, who, speaking of its growth, says, " radicem
* Johnstonus de Arboribus, p. 146, &c. t London, 1824, 8vo. p. 284.
10*

114, ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
habet tenui spatio porrectam ; et qua? quasi contra fidem terra? in-
heeret."* And these statements are quite in accordance with the
observations of captain Flinders.
From other sources we learn that this tree bears fruit twice or
thrice in the year ;f that the half-ripe nut contains sometimes three
or four pints of a clear aqueous fluid,' fragrant, and pleasant to the
taste ; and that the nut itself, from its highly nutritious qualities, is
used as an aliment in all inter-tropical countries.J In the volume of
the Wernerian Memoirs above-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 in
creased in following years ; that this tree is fruitful from its eighth to
its sixty-fourth year, and sometimes bears from eighty to one hun
dred 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 washermen of Ceylon use them instead of soap.§
In the Nouv. Diet. d'Hist. Nat. tom. vii. p. 297, &c. it is stated,
that, as in other palms, if the extremity 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, deposites 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,
which is not inferior to sweet almond oil, and which is used almost
exclusively in India ; and that the shell is formed into cups and va
rious other small articles.
Almost all that has been said of the cocoa tree might be repeated
of the date tree, making an allowance 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 advantages derived from
them. " They afford wine, vinegar, 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 plan
tations, near the banks of the Orinoco, observe that the native In
dians give evidence of a fruitful palm year, by the corresponding im
provement in their health and appearance."||
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 following beautiful
passage : " These palm-groves, being impervious to the sun's rays,
* Jobnstonus de Arboribus, p. 145.
t Nouv. Dictionn. d'Hist. Nat. tom. vii. p. 297, 298. $ Ibid.
% Wern. Mem. vol. v. p. 110 — 127.
i Humboldt, Distrib. Geogr. Plant, p. 216—240.

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 115
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, not
withstanding 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."* 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 :f
though there is reason- to believe the actual number is above a hun
dred thousand :J 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 purposes 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 treatise ; 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 afford
ing 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 farina
ceous roots as the potato, &c. comprising nearly the whole amount.
* Palmeta radiis solis impervia, umbram in regione calidissima hospitalem incolis,
viatoribus, jeque ac animantibus ministrant. Eorum denso sub tegmine, absque or-
dine crescunt aurantia, limones, punicae, olese, amygdali, vites, quae cursu geniculato
saepe truncos palmarum scandunt. Hze omnes fructus sauvissimos, licet obombratie,
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.
\ Decandolle, Theorie Elem. de la Botaiiique, 8vo. 1819, p. 25.

116 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
It would be unnecessary to point out more particularly the impor
tance 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 sufficient to show us,
that, what wheat and 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 natural analogies afforded by those spe
cies, with reference to the animal kingdom, which are well worthy
of observation.
In the animal kingdom all those species which serve extensively
for food, as oxen and sheep and swine among quadrupeds ; the tur
key, the common fowl, and the duck, &c. among birds ; and the
salmon, cod, and herring, &c. among fish, are either naturally of a
gregarious nature, or are easily kept together, by human means, in
large bodies ; and therefore are much better adapted to the purpose
of supplying food to man, than if they were either solitary, or scat
tered into small groups. And so it is with respect to the vegetable
species above described : they are capable of being cultivated, gre
gariously, as it were, with comparatively little labour and attention.
Thus in our own, and other European countries, the daily labourer,
after his hours of hired work for others, can cultivate his own private
field of wheat or of potatoes, with very little additional expense of time
or trouble. And as to the cultivation of the tropical fruits, scarcely any
labour is required for that purpose : so that to the less hardy natives
of those climates the assertion of the poet is strictly applicable.
" Fundit humi facilem victum justissima tellus,"
A further analogy is observable in the degree of fertility of the re
spective vegetables and animals. Among the animals which are des
tined for the food of man, the species are upon the whole prolific in
proportion as they are either small in size, or inferior as to the nutri
tive quality of their flesh. The cow, which is a large animal, pro
duces one usually at a birth ; the sheep, very commonly two ; swine,
several. Poultry, which are comparatively small, are capable of
rearing a numerous brood ; and fish, which are of a less nutritious
nature, and generally smaller than quadrupeds, are still more prolific.
And, similarly, in the vegetable species which are destined for the
food of man, the numerical quantity of the product in a given area
is greater or less, in proportion to the individual size of the fruit pro
duced. Dates, which are smaller than cocoa-nuts, are produced in
greater number than the latter ; and in a square yard of soil, a much
greater number of grains of rice or wheat is produced than of roots
of the potato.
Lastly, another analogy may be observed with reference to the
palate. The taste of the flesh of these species, which constitute to

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 117
man the staple as it were of animal food, is acceptable to most pa
lates. And it is neither so rich as soon to cloy the appetite on the
one hand, or invite it to luxurious indulgence on the other; nor so
devoid of flavour; as to deter us from taking a proper quantity. And
is it not the same with respect to those vegetable species, which are
among the most ordinary and most necessary articles of our food ?
If corn, and the potato, and the cocoa-nut, had the pungency of
euphorbium, the nauseating quality of ipecacuan, the heat of pepper,
or the luciousness of sugar, on the one hand, or the insipidity of pow
dered chalk on the other ; what an undertaking would it be to satisfy
the craving of hunger with any one of those vegetables !*
It will be vain to urge, in opposition to the foregoing position, that
custom in particular instances renders many things tolerable, and
even pleasing to the taste, which at first were disgusting ; for it would
be found that in such instances custom has arisen from necessity,
which often brings us acquainted with strange companions ; or from
a depraved taste. None have ever consented voluntarily to feed on
the flesh of horses, 0/ of ravens ; and caviare will always he. caviare
to the multitude. V-...fyr<^ a filXi* f-C /,--- Jk^rJ^.^V- /*"""
Next in importance to those vegetable ^species which either afford
the material of bread, or an equivalent for it, may be classed those
which contribute partly to the nourishment of man, and partly to his
health and solace. The human system certainly may be, and too
often from necessity absolutely is, supported solely on the nutriment
afforded by the former species : but if we view the actual state of
society, we find that many vegetable species and products may now
properly be classed among the necessaries of life, which for many
ages remained either undiscovered, or were only locally known, or
sparingly employed ; of which it will be quite sufficient to mention
tea,f and sugar, and the potato. The sugar cane has for such a length
of time usurped the prerogative of supplying the world with" sugar,
that other sources have been little considered : but even in cold cli
mates there are plants capable of affording it in considerable quanti
ties. There is, for instance, a species of maple cultivated in North
America for the sake of the sugar obtained from its sap, which is
capable of returning a very great profit to its cultivator ; of which
the following document, copied from a note by Dr. Hunter in his edi
tion of Evelyn's Sylva, is a sufficient proof ; there being no reason to
suspect any fraud.J It is added in the same note, that a single family,
* On many occasions, however, pungent, or aromatic substances, as garlic, mus
tard, and spices, added to food comparatively of little flavour, as rice, &c. make it
more palatable, and more easily digestible.
+ During five years, beginning with 1826, about one hundred and fifty million
pounds of tea were sold at the East India House, the average annual consumption
being, according to the preceding statement, thirty million pounds.
+ " Received, Cooper's Town, April 30, 1790, of W. Cooper, sixteen pounds, for
640 pounds of (maple) sugar, made with my own hands, without any assistance, in

118 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
consisting of a man and his two sons, on the maple-sugar lands be
tween the Delaware and Susquehanna, made 1800lbs of maple sugar
in one season. The whole note, consisting of eight closely printed
quarto pages, which appears to have been furnished by Dr. Rush of
Pennsylvania University, is well worth the perusal.*
If we consider the subordinate wants of the animal economy, we
must in reason allow that those succulent fruits and vegetables, which
are abundantly produced in almost all parts of the world, are destined
by Providence for an important end with reference to the food of
man. The very form and arrangement of our teeth, and the struc
ture 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 carnivorous 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 di
gestion, aided moreover by culinary preparation, certainly approxi
mate 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 expect that our natural taste would lead us to
enjoy the flavour of vegetable, as well as animal food ; and that na
ture 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 bet
ter calculated to support the hardier efforts of the inhabitants of
temperate or cold climates, will not grow readily in inter-tropical
climates;f and, reciprocally, the palms and cognate plants of inter
tropical regions cease to be productive, if cultivated much beyond
the tropics.J And the orange, the lemon, the water-melon, the
grape, and the fig, which are easily cultivated in warm climates,§
less than four weeks ; besides attending to the other business of my farm, as pro
viding fire-wood, taking care of the cattle, &c.
" Witness R. Smith." "John Nicholls."
SitVA, 3d ed. by A. Hunter, York, 1801. vol. i. p. 190.
* 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. Ib. p. 200.
f Desfontaines, Flora Atlantica, tom. ii. Appendix, p. 438.
t Wern. Mem. vol. v. p. 112.
§ An interesting fact is related in the "Conversations on Vegetable Physiology"
respecting an artificial mode of ripening the fig. In hot climates the fig-tree pro
duces 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 insects of the genus called cynips, which perforate the

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 119
by the abundance of their juice, are enabled both to allay the sensa
tion 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 tem
perate climate of our own island, how many days are there, during
the summer, in which such fruits are most refreshing : and to gra
tify the desire of that refreshment we import such species as are ca
pable 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 mari
ners are subject. Sea-scurvy in fact has all but disappeared since
the general adoption of this remedy*.

Section IV.
Vegetables as applicable to Medicine.
If vegetables are valuable on account of their power of affording
sustenance and keeping the body in a state of health, they are also
valuable on account of their power of restoring health where it has
been impaired : for, however sceptical some minds may be as to the
powers of medicine in general, and however ignorant even the most
sagacious and experienced medicinal practitioners may be as to the
precise mode in which any medical substance acts on the human
constitution ; yet this at least is certain, that, in by far the greater
number of instances, certain symptoms which indicate a disturbed
state of the system are mitigated, and finally subdued, in consequence
of the exhibition, to use a technical term, of certain reputed reme
dies. And it is open to the observation of almost every one, that the
vegetable kingdom is the most fertile source, not only of the com
monest and least efficient, but of some of the most powerful medi
cines with which we are acquainted. Nor can we doubt, when we
see similar effects resulting from the use of the same medicines in
figs in order to make a nest for their eggs ; and the wound they inflict accelerates
the ripening of the fruit nearly three weeks ; thus leaving 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 to prevent or to
remove scurvy : for it is stated in Salter's account of Billings's expedition, that that
disease disappeared, even in so high a northern latitude as the Aleutan islands, as
soon as the new vegetation sprang up in April (p. 276) ; and many other evidences
of the same fact might be easily adduced.

120 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
individuals of very different constitutions, that the peculiar qualities
of those substances, with respect to the effects they produce in the
human system, were imparted to them by nature with a view to
their application to those ends.
It may have happened to any one in the course of the last few
years, during which intermittent fever or ague has prevailed very
generally in this country, to witness the severe nature of some symp
toms of that disease; paroxysms of dreadful rigour or shivering;
nausea; intense headache, with delirium; paralytic affections of the
limbs ; and burning heat of the whole body, terminating in profuse
perspiration : 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 dis
ease, compared with the small quantity of it employed for that pur
pose, has been not inelegantly though playfully illustrated by that
passage of the Georgics, in which the husbandman is taught to al
lay the occasional contests and agitations of the bees, by scattering
a handful of dust among them.
" Hi motus  atque haec certamina tanta
" Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quiescent."
And, if the vegetable kingdom had failed to afford any other medi
cinal substance than this, mankind would have still had ample cause
for thankfulness.
But, even in the instances of those remedies from which nothing
beyond a present or temporary alleviation is expected, the benefit
usually accruing cannot easily be estimated at too high a rate : and
one remedy there is, of this nature, for which mankind is indebted
to the vegetable kingdom exclusively. How often has not opium
lulled the most excruciating agonies 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 1 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 sub
stances, which are directly opposed in quality to opium, and irritate
instead of soothing the surfaces to which they are applied, are va
luable precisely on that account : they 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 ac
cidentally introduced into it, and they thus contribute to the preser
vation of life. Remedies of this character, though not exclusively
belonging to the vegetable kingdom, are frequently afforded by it.

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 12 1
But, in enumerating the medicinal auxiliaries which mankind de
rive" from the vegetable kingdom, let me not omit the restorative vir
tue of that gift of Heaven, which, though by its abuse it may intoxi
cate 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 re
storative ; when the glazed ey.e and squalid skin, the feeble circula
tion and muttering delirium, announce the near approach of death,
unless the proper medicine be interposed ; and then watch the bene
ficial 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 speak
ing* 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 discovery ; 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 organised bodies, vegetables as well as
animals, are disposed to undergo spontaneous 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 pu
trefy 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
fertilizing the ground; from whence all his food is ultimately obtain
ed. The circumstances, however, which accompany this change in
vegetables, differ very much from those which attend the correspond
ing 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 movement 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 proportion to the quantity of wine con
tained 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, ultimate! v, the acid taste and odour of the vine-
" 11

122 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
gar are lost; and the whole mass of the liquor becomes first vapid,
and then putrid.
That such a process of putrefaction should take place in organised
bodies after their death, might in reasoning be antecedently expect
ed ; for the purpose of administering to the growth of their succes
sive generations in the case of vegetables ;* and to prevent the in
definite accumulation of so much dead and useless matter in the case
of animals : but we could not have anticipated, that, while animal
matter at once passes into a state of putrefaction, vegetable matter
should previously pass through two intermediate states ; accompa
nied with products which in their nature differ both from each other,
and from the source from which they were derived : both, however,
•as we might very reasonably expect from the known wisdom and
beneficence of the Creator, of the highest importance to mankind.
From wine, to say nothing of the advantages resulting from its
proper use in its common state, is derived that useful fluid called
alcohol, or spirit of wine : among the most valuable properties of
which, may be ranked its power of dissolving resin, and other
vegetable principles ; and of preserving organized matter from the
putrefactive process. In consequence of the former power, it is
employed to extract from various vegetables some of those parts
in which their medicinal virtues reside ; and to preserve them in a
convenient form for immediate use, at any moment, under the
technical name of tinctures. And with respect to its importance
as a preservative of animal and vegetable matter, but particularly
of the former, I need only point out any one of those collections of
anatomical preparations contained in the museums of every medi
cal school in Europe. But if any single instance of its application
to this purpose be demanded, who can hesitate to name that as
tonishing proof of the genius and industry of the great English
physiologist, John Hunter, the Collection preserved in the Royal
College of Surgeons 1 on the pedestal of whose bust, placed within
the walls of the museum of that college, might well be inscribed,
as I believe has been often suggested, those appropriate words,
"Cujus monumentum si quseras, circumspice." '

Section V.
Vegetables as applicable to the Arts, See.
In considering the application of natural substances to the va
rious purposes of life, it is often interesting to compare the simpli-

• a

Haud igitur penitus pereunt quzecunque videntur :
Quando aliud ex alio reficit Natura, nee ullam
Rem gigni patitur, nisi morte adjutam aliena."
Lvchet. I. 263 — 5.

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF. MAN. 123
city of the orginal 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 his
tory 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
preparation than simple pressure ; partly with the view of forcing
out its natural moisture, and partly of smoothing its surface. How
different the history of the paper that is daily fabricated in any of
the large manufactories of this country ; and how little would its
origin and numerous changes of state be conjectured from its pre
sent appearance ! Heaps of linen rags of every colour, when in
deed that colour can be distinguished through the dirt which ad
heres 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 co
vering of the poorest mendicant.
From such a material is the finest paper made : and, in the com
mencement of the process, each individual rag undergoes an exa
mination with respect to its size, and is cut into two or more pieces
according to that size. Separate heaps are then mechanically
•shaken together, and sifted, in order to clear them from adhering
, , dust : they are subsequently washed, mechanically divided into small
shreds, bleached, then thrown into vats of water, and there reduced
to a fine pulp by the application of powerful machinery. This pulp,
by very delicate yet simple means, is kept in a state of close and
equable diffusion over an even surface, and is made to pass between
successive pairs of smooth metallic cylinders ; all of which, by
pressing out the moisture of the pulp, bring its particles more closely
together, and thus tend to give it the requisite degree of firmness
and cohesion ; ,the last pair being heated sufficiently to dry the
paper during its passage between them.
Such are the numerous and elaborate processes, by which a heap
of sordid rags is converted into the beautiful material of which we
have been speaking. And if, to the accumulated processes to
which each rag is submitted during its fabrication into paper, be
added its previous history, as the cultivation and subsequent dress
ing of the flax of which it was made, the formation of the fibre of
the flax into thread, the weaving of the thread into linen, and, in the
majority of instances, the dying of the linen ; if all these points be
collectively considered, what food for a reflecting mind does not the
minutest particle of the resulting paper afford !
' ' Many plants are capable of- yielding a colouring matter, which
by chemical means may be readily made to combine with various

124 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
substances, as linen, woollen, silk, anrl leather. This property,
which sometimes resides in the stem and branches, sometimes in the
leaves and flowers, may be classed among those properties of plants,
which, if we consider the actual state of society in all the civilized
parts of the world, are productive of the greatest advantage to
mankind. Hence, for instance, has arisen an art, the art of dying,
which not only opens a wide field of employment to a numerous
class of workmen, in every large city ; but gives a degree of ac
tivity to general commerce, which cannot but surprise the mind of
any one previously ignorant of the circumstance. Thus the quan
tity of indigo, accumulated in the extensive repositories of the East-
India Company, is frequently so great as to make the occasional ob
server wonder that it should ever find a market : and the following
statement will show how important this single substance is as an ar
ticle of commerce. During the last five years, the quantity of in
digo imported into London amounts to at least one hundred and
twenty thousand chests; the average weight of the contents of each
chest equalling 270 lbs., and the average price of each pound being
five shillings. The estimated value therefore of the indigo con
tained in the 120,000 chests would be rather more than eight mil
lions sterling.
If I am correct in supposing that blue, red, and yellow, are the
colours most abundantly supplied by vegetables, it cannot fail to
strike a mind of the least reflection, that these are precisely the ele
mentary colours which a dier would have antecedently selected,
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 considered as
a distinct colour, though not admitted as such theoretically, it is
worthy of observation, that, although scarcely any vegetable sub
stance yields it directly ; yet, by the intervention of almost any
form of iron, and this metal is in some shape or other present 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
die of a black colour. Thus the bark of the oak, and of many
other trees, and that vegetable excrescence called the gall-nul,
produce an ink by the addition 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 refine
ment, the productions of the vegetable world have been in constant
request for the most common purposes of life. The simplest dwell
ings 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

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 125
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 implements were of iron ! 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 caulking, of tow and of tar. All is of vegetable origin from
the top-mast head to the keel itself. 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 economical 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, Dier, Tanner, Turner, Wheeler, Weaver, Barker, Hay-
ward, Gardener, 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 pro
ductions differ from each other! How well the rigid fibre and
compact texture of the oak enable the bulky vessel to resist the
buffeting of the waves ! The ash, the beech, the fir, the yew, each
has those appropriate qualities which make it individually preferable
to the rest. The flexibility of the hemp and flax renders them capa-
pable 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 igno
rant. 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 in-
* The art of milking wicker-work iS often successfully cultivated at a very early
period of civilization. Thus, in the neighbourhood 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 ornamental wicker-work of the natives was high
ly prized at Rome.

126 ADAPTATION OF VEGETABLES
stance, the mercantile value of a piece of fine lace, with the original
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 de
fence to cultivated lands against the incursions of cattle ; and some
times 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 Cotswold and similar ranges of hills, where stone sup
plies a more ready material for a fence. Of the extent of its ap
plication, 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 circumference of the whole earth. In de
scribing 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 1020 yards from the fort, is surrounded by a
hedge of prickly pear, nearly eighteen feet high, and thick in pro
portion. This natural defence round 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 aliquid 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 designed 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."-\ 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 vegetable kingdom alone : and even where such a supply
is in a great measure needless, on account of the abundance of coal,
>yet, for many purposes, various forms of wood, either in a recent
qr^Jn(a charred state, are preferred, on account of the injurious
effejpt|| arising from the sulphur with which coal is usually contami
nated;; in the heating of bakers' ovens, for instance, in the drying
of ma-lt, and in numerous processes of the arts. Around the shores
*P. 522.
f Conversations on Vegetable Physiology, vol. ii. p. 232.

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 127
of the Arctic Ocean, where scarcely any traces of native vegetation
are observable, the inhabitants are amply supplied by drift-wood
(Sauer's account of Billings's Expedition, p. 104 — 259). And Cap
tain Beechey says, that drift-wood is to the Esquimaux what forests s
are to us ; being in such abundance and variety, that the inhabitants
have the choice of several sorts of trees. All this drift-wood about
the mouths of rivers, on the north coast of America, appears to be
brought down by those rivers from the interior of America : but
from the occurrence of many floating trees to the southward of
Kamchatka, and from other circumstances, it is probable that much
of the drift-wood, found at a distance from the mouths of rivers,
comes very far from the southward, (p. 575 — 580).
Nor does the benefit, arising from vegetable forms of fuel, termi
nate with their consumption. The residuary ashes are useful, as a
manure for the land, on account of the alkaline matter which they
contain : and that alkaline matter is also to many a poor peasant a
substitute for soap ; the lixivium, or ley, which may be obtained by
filtering water through the ashes, owing its detergent quality to the
alkali which it has dissolved in its passage. In those parts of the
world indeed, as in North America, for instance, where it is re
quisite to clear the land of wood, for the purpose of bringing it into
cultivation, the ashes of the forests, which are necessarily burned
for this purpose, afford an enormous quantity of alkaline residuum ;
and this is the source of much of kthat alkali of commerce, which,
from having been obtained by evaporation of its solution in iron
pans or pots, is commonly known under the name of potash.
That other alkali of commerce, called soda, is derived from a
similar, though indeed a much more humble source ; for, in this
case, the alkali does not result from the combustion of stately and
aboriginal forests, but from the combustion of heaps of sea-weed ;
which, in various parts of the coast of Europe, has been collected
from the surfaces of the adjoining rocks.*
* In some instances loose stones are intentionally placed on the sea-beach for the
purpose of affording a substratum for the growth of various sea-plants, which attach
themselves to the stones so placed.

128

CHAPTER IX.
ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN.
Section I.
General Observations on the Animal Kingdom.
The same remark may be made with regard to the general utility
of animals, which has been made in the case of vegetables : for we
have sufficient reason for believing, that, among the myriads of
species of animals which exist upon the face of the earth, there is not
one which does not act an important part in the economy of nature.*
And yet, if it be correctly stated that out of about a hundred thousand
species of animals, the number supposed to have been hitherto dis
covered, eighty thousand are of the class of insects ;f it will be evi
dent that the mass of mankind is ignorant of the very existence of
nearly four fifths of the whole animal kingdom : for, with the excep
tion 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 existence of the human race. If, for in
stance, 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 im
mense advantage accrues to man, accommodated to that end ! If,
for instance, the sheep and the ox were carnivorous, instead of herbi
vorous, how could the species be preserved : or, supposing for a mo
ment that a sufficient quantity of animal food could be procured for
* It is the opinion of Mr. Scoresby, (Account of the Arctic Regions, vol. i. p.
179, 180,) that the olive-green colour of the water, observable in many parts of the
Greenland sea, is owing to the presence of numberless quantities of very small me
dusae and other minute animals. " These small animals," he says, " apparently af
ford. nourishment to the sepia:, actinia:, and other mollusca which constitute the food
of the whale : thus producing a dependant chain of animal life, one particular link
of which being destroyed, the whole must necessarily perish.
f The number is probably greater.

ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS, ETC 129
them, under that supposition how could it be conveniently distributed
to the flocks and herds scattered over a thousand hills ; which now,
without any consequent 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 become extinct. In that
event tiow greatly would be in a moment altered the condition of the
whole civilized world! for by what other means could there be kept up
that general communication, between distant parts of the same em
pire, the rapidity and facility of which contribute at the same time to
national prosperity, 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 in
applicable in most other situations 1 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
conveys the command which is to determine those evolutions : or, to
descend into less important though not less interesting scenes of do
mestic life, let us imagine, what we may perhaps have witnessed, the
ecstacy 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 beloved child ; or to obtain those means of hu
man aid, which haply may have averted the stroke of impending
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 philosophi
cally the phenomena of creation. And if it should be said that some
species of animals have actually become extinct, and others are gradu
ally becoming more and more rare ; yet, in 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
* It is not without reason that the epithet uncouth has been applied to the dodo ;
for two distinguised naturalists, in their day, maintained for many years that such a
form had never existed, but in the imagination of the painter. One of these indi
viduals however at length had an opportunity of inspecting the well-known speci
men of the head of the dodo, which is preserved in the Ashmolean Museum at Ox
ford ; 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 institution, 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.

130 ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS
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 ex
tremely 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 inconvenience 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 dis
tinct family, called insectivorous.

Section II.
Geographical Distribution of Animals.
Among the strongest evidences of an intentional adaptation of the
external world to the physical condition of man, may be classed the
geographical distribution of animals, taken in connexion with certain
points in their general history. Thus the elephant, which lives ex
clusively 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 re
quire : and then the tractability and docility of the animal are such,
that its amazing strength may be easily directed to forward the pur
poses 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 climates, where vege
tation is comparatively scant, the difficulty of supporting the indivi
dual animals in such climates would have diminished the value of the
species: or, were elephants as intractable and indocile, 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

to the physical condition of man. 131
be observed that they are branches of the same natural order,) how
could the increased numbers of individuals have been maintained,
in the case of a species which is not naturally capable of emigrating
to a different climate?

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 ac
commodated, and apparently so incapable of existing without his
superintendence, that while on the one hand we find the camel de
scribed in the earliest records of history, and in every subsequent pe
riod, 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 remarkable 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 in
debted, indeed, for their existence as a distinct species. Let us com
pare 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 employed 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 characterise the camel — " the ship of the desert," as it has em
phatically been called. Laden with the various kinds of merchan
dise which are the object of commerce in that region of the world,
and of which a part often passes from the most easterly countries of
Asia to the extreme limits of western Europe, and from thence even
across the Atlantic to America, this extraordinary animal pursues its
steady course over burning sands during many successive weeks.
And not only is it satisfied with the scanty herbage which it gathers
by the way ; but often passes many days without meeting with a
single spring of water in which to slake its thirst.
In explanation of its fitness as a beast of burden, for such desert
tracts of sand, its feet and its stomach are the points in its structure

132 adaptation of animals
which are principally calculated to arrest our attention : and its feet
are not less remarkably accommodated to the road over which it
travels, than is the structure of its stomach to the drought of the re
gion through which that road passes. The foot of the camel, in fact,
is so formed that the animal would be incapable of travelling, with
any ease or steadiness, over either a rough or a stony surface ; and
equally incapable is it of travelling for anylong continuance over moist
ground, in consequence of the inflammation produced in its limbs
from the effect of moisture. It is observed, by Cuvier, that these
circumstances in its physical history, and not the incapability of bear
ing a colder temperature, account for the fact, that, while the sheep,
the ox, the dog, the horse, and some other species, have accompanied
the migrations of man, from his aboriginal seat in central Asia to
every habitable part of the globe, the camel still adheres to the desert.
And now observe how its interior structure meets the difficulty of
region, where water is rarely found. As in the case of all other ani
mals which ruminate or chew the cud, the stomach of the camel con
sists of several different compartments ; of which one is divided into
numerous distinct cells, capable of collectively containing such a
quantity of water, as is sufficient for the ordinary comsumption 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 ani
mal of the old world known to possess this peculiar structure. But
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, corre
spond 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 em
ployed 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 sus-
* 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 give the name of dromedary, from its employ
ment as a courier: but in the magnificent work of St. Hilaire and Cuvier, (Hist.
Nat. de Mammiferes,) the term dromedary is adopted, in a specific sense, for all the
varieties of the Arabian camel.

to the physical condition of man. 13S
more fatigue. A large camel is capable of carrying from seven to
twelve hundred weight, and travelling with that weigljt on its back,
at the rate 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 sup
plied 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, obli
terated. The camel is equally patient of thirst as of hunger : and this hap
pens, no doubt, in consequence of the supply of fluid which it is capa
ble 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 referable,) by
which, after having thirsted for seven or eight days, it perceives the i
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 advan
tages of slight moment 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 much of the preceding ac
count is taken, assert, that, if after having laid down and received
the intended freight, the camel should find it inconveniently heavy,
it will not rise -till a part has been taken off; and that, when fatigued
by long travel, it will proceed more readily and easily if the driver
sing some familiar tune. This however is a quality not peculiar to
the camel.
Considered only thus far in its history, the camel easily stands
pre-emiment, as the most useful, among all the species of ruminating
animals, in the bodily or mechanical services which it renders to
man : it is almost indeed the rival of the horse, even when compared
in a general point of view ; but more than its rival in its particular
arena, the desert. The reindeer assists the individual wants of the
Laplander by conveying his sledge over the frozen surface of the
12

134 adaptation of animals
snow : and the ox, on a more enlarged scale of labour, is employed
in some countries in ploughing, or in the draught of heavyweights:
but the camel was from time immemorial, up to a comparatively re
cent period, almost the sole intermedium of the principal part of the
commerce of the whole world. Thus the spices and other rich mer
chandise of the East, being brought to the confines of Arabia, were
conveyed on the backs of camels across the desert, and thence
finding their way to the trading cities of Phenicia, while they yet
flourished — and subsequently, after their destruction or decay, to
Alexandria — they were distributed over the continent of Europe ;
enriching whole nations by the profits of the mere transfer : for
thus Venice became not only the mistress of the Adriatic and Medi
terranean, but in a measure the arbitress of the whole world —
" And such she was ; — her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Pour'd in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.
In purple was she robed, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deem'd their dignity increased."*
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 declined in its riches and power ; and the Portu
guese, the Dutch, and lastly the English, acquired the political in
fluence which Venice had lost : so true is the observation of Sir
William Temple, that whatever nation is in possession of the com
merce of India must necessarily have a preponderating influence in
the affairs of the whole world.f
But, although the route by the Cape has in a great measure super
seded that by Alexandria, the commercial intercourse carried on
by means of the camel between opposite confines of the African
and Asiatic deserts is still sufficiently extensive to make the impor
tance 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 merchandise, or for the purpose of
selling them.J
* Childe Harold, Canto IV. Stanza 2.
f For an account of the traffic between India and Europe, see Niebuhr, De-
script, de 1' Arabie, p. 246, &c.
tit cannot be considered an irrelevant, and certainly not in itself an unin
teresting digression, here to observe, that there was a period in the commercial
history of England, within the last century even, when the horse served the pur
pose m this island, which the camel serves in Arabia and other parts of tbe world:
and a distinct trade then existed, that of the packer,- the occupation of which was
to make up bales of goods in a form convenient for carriage on the back of the
pack-lvorse ,• 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 extensively employed
in the north-eastern parts of the Russian dominions.

TO the physical condition of man. 135
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 infe
rior to any one of those species with respect to other advantages
on account of which they are principally 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 ani
mal is the principal fuel of the desert ; and from the smoke of this
fuel is obtained the well-known substance called sal ammoniac,
which is very extensively employed in the arts ; and of which in
deed, 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 capability 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 observer ; and which extends
still further the benefits arising from the practice. In a state of na
ture, almost all the individuals of the same species of animals have,
at any~ given period of their life, so close a resemblance to each
other in form, size, and colour, that it is difficult to distinguish them
at a little distance : but whenever, any species has been long do
mesticated, or subjugated to the dominion of man, we usually find
a proportional variety in those points. In proof of the foregoing
assertion it will be sufficient to make a comparison between wild
and tame rabbits ; or between the domestic and wild cat ; and to
refer to the differences observable in all those animals 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 de
pends 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 in
stance, or the Shetland poney, were from henceforth to determine
the permanent character of the species ; and observe what would
* 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.

136 ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS
be the consequence. What a waste of power, and what an incon
venient increase of trouble and expense, both with respect to stable-
room and food, would there be in using the dray-horse, where the
Shetland pony would be sufficient ; and, on the other hand, how 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 varieties of this most
useful animal to be annihilated, and only one form to prevail, its
value would be proportionally lessened. If no variety of the dog
existed but the small spaniel or the terrier, the miserable inhabitant
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 sagacity
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 watery 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 com
panion? Instead of that compact phalanx 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 intelli
gent commander, still altering its direction in advancing, as steadily
as a ship in sail obeys the helm; we should see a confused and
scattered multitude, which all the shepherd's skill and activity could
hardly restore to order.
Nor let me be accused of inhumanity if I here instance the assist
ance which is given to man by those varieties of the dog which are
principally used in the chace. Those feelings, which would spare the
inferior animals unnecessary pain, are ever to be respected in others
and cherished in ourselves; as those feelings which delight in cruelty
are to be abhorred ': but undoubtedly the desire of inflicting pain is
not the incentive to the pleasures of the chace ; and therefore, with
reference to himself, the hunter is free from the charge of cruelty.
With respect to the animal which is the object of the chace, the
charge of cruelty is reasonably obviated by this highly probable
consideration, that man can hardly inflict on the weaker animals a
more cruel death than that, to which they are obnoxious by the
very law of nature : for, ultimately, they will almost necessarily be
hunted and destroyed by beasts of prey ; or, if you suppose them to
die either of disease, or of old age, what misery must they not un
dergo in enduring this latter period of their life ! In fact, unless in
the case of acute disease, the occurrence of which in wild animals
there is reason to think is extremely rare, they must, through mere
helplessness, perish by hunger.
An ethical discussion is to be avoided on the present occasion ;
and I shall only therefore observe, that, with respect to the infliction
of pain on the inferior animals, in the particular case now under

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 137
consideration, the grand question is the consequent effect on our
own moral feelings.* If we are conscious that we are inflicting
pain, we shall do right to abstain from what otherwise would be an
innocent amusement ; for such abstinence will be a legitimate exten
sion of the scriptural precept, "A righteous man regardeth the life
of his beast :" and if, by neglecting the suggestions of our original
feelings, we have blunted the edge of the moral sense, doubtless we
are culpable in a high degree. And this probably was the case in
the gladiatorial exhibitions of antiquity ; and is equally the case in
the disgusting exhibitions of the bull-fight in Spain, and the more
vulgar and not less disgusting spectacle of pugilistic engagements,
or baiting of the bull, in our own country. But, omitting such pal
pably indefensible sports, it doubtless may be affirmed as a general
truth that the amusements of hunting or of fishing are not accompa
nied by any consciousness of a wanton infliction of pain. And,
although the occasionally concomitant habits of such sports may
eventually blunt the benevolent feelings of our nature, we have not
the least evidence that there is a necessary tendency in those amuse
ments to produce that lamentable effect. There then remains, in
support of the propriety of such amusements, the argument from the
healthiness of the stimulus which they communicate to the mind as
well as to the body; thus invigorating both: while they act as a
present recreation, which in some shape or other is required by all.
But if the pursuit of smaller and weaker animals should appear ob
jectionable to any one, there still remain, in other countries at least
if not in this, the wolf, the wild boar, and the tiger: and in subduing
these, to which no one will probably object, ihe dog lends most
effectual assistance to man. He is indeed of all animals the most
undaunted and courageous. Mr. Burchell, who during his long re
sidence in southern Africa had frequent opportunities of witnessing
the character of" this faithful guardian of man, has asserted to the
author of this treatise, that he has, again and again, seen the fiercest
and strongest animals shrink from the defiance of the dog ; but he
never saw the dog shrink from the defiance of any other animal.f
* The same observation is applicable to philosophical experiments on living ani-.
mais j respecting experiments of which nature Shakspeare justly observes,
" Your highness
Shall from this practice but make hard your heart."
Cymbel. Act I. Sc. 6.
¦j- Linnseus, in enumerating the characters of the lion, makes, by implication, a
somewhat similar observation witb respect to the dog. " Leo esuriens przedatur
equis et aliis majoribus animalibus ; — canibus coercetur." (Linn. System. Gmelin.
tom. i. p. 76.) 12*

138 ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS
Section V.
Animals as a Source of Food for Man.
Although the inhabitants of very warm climates live principally
and often entirely on vegetables ; in the colder climates animal food
usually makes a part of the daily sustenance of all who are not op
pressed 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 observations of M. Fre
deric Cuvier, (Mem. 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.
Tbe 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 occa
sions on which such food could not with any convenience be ob
tained, even by those to whom the expense is not a matter of any
consideration. In situations for instance which are far removed
from any town, there are very few, with the exception of the pos
sessors of extensive landed property, who can be conveniently sup
plied 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 lu
crative 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 com-

to the physical condition OF MAN. 139
paratively 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 acceptable to the palate : and it is
worthy of consideration that the flesh of those animals, of whose
living services 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 drqadful 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 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 apparatus
called Papin's Digester, or in consequence of the removal of their
earthly basis by means of any convenient acid ; and we have also
learned, 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 neyer
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-mentioned 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 emergency the bones
of animals might continue a supply of food, after the flesh had been
eaten.

Sect. VI.
Manufacture 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 indiges
tible, is subsequently collected, for the purpose of obtaining a mate
rial, very extensively 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 in
teresting, if all the attendant circumstances be considered, than
the fabrication of this substance : and the interest principally arises
from this peculiarity in the nature of. the proeess, that, among the
numerous products which are evolved in its different stages, there
is scarcely one which is not sufficiently useful to prevent the necessity
of its being thrown away.

140 ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS
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 timepieces of broken bone and other offal, which he has
disengaged from the interstices of the stones that form the carriage
pavement. The unsightly 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 cauldron of water, and are boiled for the purpose of clear
ing 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 composition 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 suffi
cient degree of heat, the matter of the bone is rpsolved into its con
stituent 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 car
bonic acid gas, commonly known by the name oi fixed air; and
various combinations of hydrogen and carbon, forming different
kinds of inflammable 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 incrusted with the
smoke arising from the combustion : which smoke being collected,
becomes an article of sale under the name of lamp black ; a sub
stance of considerable importance as the basis of printing ink, &c.
It would be tedious, and uninteresting to the general reader,
to describe all the intermediate steps of the process : and it is
sufficient for the present purpose to state that, towards the con
clusion 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 drug
gists under the common name of Glauber's salt ; and the muriate
of ammonia, (sal ammoniac,) the great object of the whole manu
facture, 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 net 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 ani
mal matter.. Exposure to an open fire drives off this carbon, and
leaves the bones still unaltered in form, but nearly blanched : and
these bones, subsequently reduced to powder, and mixed with a

TO THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF MAN. 141
sufficient quantity of water to give them the requisite degree of
consistence, are formed into vessels, which are employed in the
process of refining gold and silver.
It was stated that, during the destructive distillation 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 compli
cated process which I have been describing, the carbonic acid
would be the only substance not employed for some useful purpose.

Sect VII.
Animals as a Source of Clothing, Sj-c.for Man.
The utility of many of those animals which supply us with food
does not terminate in merely that adaptation of them to human
wants. From the same animals we are supplied with clothing also ;
(but this service, indeed, they render to us in common with various
other animals which are unfit for food) ; and, according to the
different states of civilization in which mankind exists, that clothing
is more or less artificially prepared. Thus while the African or
Australian savage scarcely protects his body from exposure by a
partial covering of leaves, or the inner bark of trees ; and the
Esquimaux envelopes his body in the undressed skin of the seal
which he has recently killed, supplying also the separate coverings
of his head and feet and hands from the same source ; the poorest
peasant of any civilized part of Europe derives his clothing not
only from one but many different species of animals ; to say nothing
of those occasional parts of his dress which are obtained from the
vegetable and mineral kingdom. The ox, the dog, the sheep, the
beaver or the rabbit, and the silk-worm, in almost every instance
contribute their direct contingent to the apparel of the humblest
individual of Europe, who is not absolutely a mendicant: and,
with reference to the dress and ornamental appendages of indivi
duals of more elevated rank, to the animals already mentioned may
be added the deer, the goat, the camel, the elephant, the ermine,
and numerous other animals which supply the various and rich
furs of commerce ; the ostrich, and many other birds ; and even
the tortoise, the oyster, and the puny architect of the more beautiful
species of coral.
Nor are the advantages which mankind derive from the animal
kingdom, with reference to general commerce and the arts and eco
nomical purposes of life, of less importance than the foregoing. How
many different substances, as leather, and parchment, and glue ; and
what various instruments, either for common use, or ornament or
amusement, are manufactured from skin and horn, and bone and

142 EXERCISE OF THE
ivory! With respect to the last-mentioned of which substances
indeed, it is a highly interesting fact,' that the world has not been sup
plied with it solely from the two still existing species of elephant, but
also, and in a very large proportion, from the extinct and fossil
species. Under the name of licorne fissile, the tusks of the extinct
--^ species have for ages been an object of commerce in the Russian
dominions : and M. Pallas describes the abundance of these fossil
tusks to be such, that they are found in every direction throughout
the greater part of north-eastern Russia.
If we only consider the amount of the consumption of wax and
honey, of what importance is not that little insect the bee : and the
¦-IN same observation maybe made with reference to the silk-worm and
the cochineal !
Lastly, for it is necessary to bring the present subject to a close,
what immense advantages accrue to commerce and navigation from
V^the traffic in even a very few species of fish, as the whale, the cod,
•' the herring, and the pilchard ! so great indeed are those advantages,
that the question of the right of fishery on a particular coast has
sometimes been the occasion of involving the most powerful nations
in expensive wars : for these fisheries, at the same time that they are
a source of immense riches to individuals, constitute, as it were, a
nursery for the hardiest race of sailors, and thus become of the
highest importance in a national point of view.

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 adap
tation of external nature to the supply of his bodily wants. It re
mains 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 ex
ternal world and the exercise of the mind of man, who shall attempt
to describe the nature and boundaries of that yet unmeasured plain
of knowledge, in which man is constantly either intellectually expa
tiating, or practically exerting himself? who, without wandering into

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 143
the mazes of metaphysical speculation — always amusing in the pur
suit, but never, perhaps, satisfactory in the result — who shall deve
lope the obscure Steps by which science first finds access to the
mind 1 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, calamine, was held in so
little estimation in Great Britain that it was frequently used merely
as ballast for shipping, (Watson's Essays, vol. iv. p. 6.) ; yet that
same ore was used before the time of Aristotle for the purpose of
making brass, and to that purpose is principally applied at the pre
sent day. The process also of making wine was known in the
earliest periods of history ; although the principles on which it is
produced 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 occa
sional arrest of its progress at a point immediately bordering on dis
coveries 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 substance, though very early discovered, hardly came
into general use for ordinary purposes till comparatively 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 Herculaneum, and
other places, will be disposed to allow that the embryo of the art' of
printing died, as it were, in the birth.f
In order that the external world may be fitted to the just exercise
* The substance of the following note, though not directly illustrative of the
subject now under consideration, is not irrelevant to it j and is sufficiently curious
in itself to justify its introduction 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 Ro
chelle, in which it is stated that, where torpedoes abound, boys are in the habit of
playing the following trick to those who are not in the secret. They persuade the
ignorant boy to pour water in a continued stream upon the torpedo ; and the con
sequence 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 experiment, that, in pouring water on
a live torpedo, the hand of the person who is pouring the water will be sensible of
a shock, which has apparently been conveyed through the water to his hand."
"Erioi <fe io-vopovo-t, ¦jrCiptvt «uT«f S7ri7r\iov xafjifiavovTSG, etv sxnww £Zq-a (Ktdpite, the
Torpedo,) xaTcttrxeSatvdvres iicef «vaSe>, aio-9 iitts 6*1 to? rraSous ava-rpixavros ivi ™
Ktipa., x,&i thv aqi,i/ d^jfixt/vovTOf, wC 'ioiici £i& rov tVuToc rfHTrojuevov tttit 7rpo7rvz-ovB6roc.
Plot. Mobaiia, Oxon. 4to, 1797, tom. iv. p. 643, 644.
,+ A very interesting conjectural account of the origin and progress of the arts,
and of social life, occurs in the last part of the fifth book of Lucretius.

144 EXERCISE OF THE
of our intellectual faculties, it is evidently necessary that its phe
nomena should be presented to our senses with a certain degree of
regularity. This is a condition so obvious to a mind capable of
reflection, that we find it inculcated, almost in the same terms, by
two writers of the most opposite views as to the causes of those phe
nomena. Thus Lucretius asserts, that the sun and moon, by the
constant returns of their light and the regularity of their course,
afford to mankind an assurance that day and night, and the various
seasons of the year, will recur not only in a definite order, but also
for definite periods of duration.* And thus also, but in language
and imagery more elevated, and a sublime acknowledgment of the
cause, as well as a declaration of the fact, the author of the 19th
Psalm affirms, that ".the heavens declare the glory of God, and the
firmament showeth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech,
and night unto night showeth knowledge."
But it is also necessary to the just exercise of our intellectual
faculties, that the senses of men in general should be similarly af
fected, when acted on by the same causes: for otherwise there
would be no stability in our knowledge, as derived from these its
most fertile sources. And though, from a peculiarity in original
constitution, or from the effect of disease, the sensations of particu
lar individuals may differ, not only in degree but in kind, from those
of the world at large ; the error is of no moment, since it may at
once be corrected by a reference to the common sense of mankind.
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 ante
cedent 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 indi
viduals ; and the functions of those organs may therefore be pre
sumed to be the same : and from the similarity of the natural ex
pression of disgust, which peculiar odours and flavours usually ex
cite 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 ab
solutely firm ground for a reliance on the senses themselves, it might
fairly be answered, that although, from the time of Pyrrho to that
of Berkeley, there have been always speculative sceptics with re
spect to the testimony of 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
nonexistence of matter, and pretended therefore to universal in
difference, he was sometimes overcome by his feelings, and would
• Lib. V. 971—979, and 1435—1438.

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 145
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, (i>s ^oXstfov s''i oAotfyspug ixdvvau a\6pu*ov) : and it must be
confessed that, in this apology, he offered the best comment on the
character of his doctrine. And most philosophically does Lucre
tius* argue, noticing the apparent modifications of form which bo
dies undergo, in consequence of 'being viewed at different distances,
that, although no satisfactory reason can be given of the real cause
of the illusion, it is preferable to assign a false reason, rather than,
by a consequent want of reliance on our senses, to overturn those
foundations of all belief, on which our safety and life depend.
We have seen, in the course of the foregoing inquiry, how ex
tensively the various objects of the material world are applicable to
the wants and conveniences of man in every stage of society ; and
we cannot reasonably doubt that they were created for that, as a
main purpose, among others to which they are subservient. Such
at least was the conclusion of one of the greatest philosophers of
antiquity ; though unaided by the direct light of revelation. " For
what purpose," asks Cicero, " was the great fabric of the universe
constructed ? was it merely for the purpose of perpetuating the va
rious species of trees and herbs, which are not endued even with
sensation 1 — the supposition is absurd. Or was it for the exclusive
use of the inferior animals ? — it is not at all more probable that the
Deity would have produced so magnificent a structure for the sake
of beings, which, although endued with sensation, possess neither
speech nor intelligence. For whom then was the world produced?
— doubtless for those beings who are alone endued with reason."
(" Sin quasrat quispiam, cujusnam causa tantarum rerum molitio
facta sit: arborumne et herbarum? quse, quanquam sine sensu sunt,
tamen a natura sustinentur ; at id quidem absurdem est ? An bes-
tiarum? nihilo probabilius, Deos mutarum et nihil intelligentium
causa tantum laborasse. Quorum igitur causa quis dixerit effectum
esse mundum 1 Eorum scilicet animantium qua? ratione utuntur."f)
Whether the earliest steps in the discovery of the arts of life de
pend on the effect of divine inspiration, of which the subject of that
inspiration is unconscious — to which supposition there does not ap
pear any reasonable objection — or whether they result from the im
pulse of unassisted reason ; it would be fruitless to inquire : but it is
interesting to contemplate the similarity of principle which seems
to regulate the discoveries of the useful properties of material sub
stances.;]; Man does not appear to possess that kind of instinct
* Lib. IV. 502—512.
+ Cic. de Nat. Deor. lib. II. c. 53.
% The following passages, one from Vitruvius, the other from Cicero, are appli
cable 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

146 EXERCISE OF THE
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
qualities 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 intellectal 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 rock, for instance, is never improved into
the comfortable 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, observable at all periods of history and in all parts
of the world, have such a general resemblance ; although, in the
construction of the one, or the exercise of the other, there cannot
have been any communication of knowledge. Compare, for in
stance, the stone arrow-heads and axes of the ancient Celtic nations,
with the similar instruments of the inhabitants of those islands of the
.Pacific Ocean which were not discovered till the last century. The
following fact, and accompanying remark, may be mentioned, in
illustration of the present part of the subject. 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,
that supply shall be easily attainable : whereas those things which are to be con
sidered in the light of luxuries, as gold and precious stones, are rarely met with,
and are procured with difficulty." ("Igitur divina mens, quse proprie necessaria
essent gentibus, non constituit difficilia et cara ; uti sunt margaritae, cateraque
quse nee corpus nee natura desiderat ; sed sine quibus mortalium vita non potest esse
tuta, eflf'udit ad manum parata per omnem mundum." Vitruv. Prefat. ad lib. viii.) " In
vain had nature created gold and silver, and copper and iron, unless she had at the
same time instructed mankind how to discover the repositories of those metals.
And, again, in vain had the material been adapted to our wants, unless we un
derstood the method of obtaining it in a separate and perfect state." (" Aurum et
argentum, xs, ferrum, frustra natura divina gennisset, nisi eadem docuisset quem-
admodum ad eorum venas perveniretur — materia deinde quid juvaret, nisi con-
fectionis ejus fabricam haberemus ?" Cicero de Divinat. lib. i." c. 51.) The fol
lowing 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 " remarkable that
almost all those metals which were known to the ancients to possess malleability."
(Thomson's Chemistry, sixth edit. vol. i. p. 325.) it may with propriety be ob
served that those are exactly the metals, without which society could not have
existed.

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 147
which had no doubt worried the animal to death," adds this perti
nent 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.*
It is probable, then, that there is an instinctive tendency in man
to meditate on the nature and properties of those material objects
and phenomena which are frequently presented to his view ; and
subsequently to derive from this meditation the means of applying
those objects and phenomena to his wants, whether of a necessary
or an artificial character. Thus astronomy was originally culti
vated with most success by those who lived in a climate in which
an unclouded sky prevailed ; navigation, by those who lived on the
borders of the ocean ; and the general arts of life, by those who in
habited regions characterised by the fertility of their soil, and the
abundance and variety of their mineral productions. Of these posi
tions, ancient Egypt, Phenicia, and India are respectively instances:
though it is not intended to affirm that an unclouded sky is alone
sufficient to produce a tendency towards the cultivation, much less
a national superiority in the science of astronomy ; nor a vicinity to
the sea, an excellence in 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
civilisation 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 inhabiting a country as extensive, and in parts
* The same author observes, in a short sketch of Upper California, that the
natives cultivate no land, but subsist entirely " by the chase and upon the sponta
neous 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 bruise them
between two stones into a paste which will keep unto the following season. The
paste, before it is dried, is subjected to several washings in a sieve ; which process,
they say, deprives it of the bitter taste common to the acorn. We cannot but re
mark that the great resemblance this custom bears to the method adopted by the
South Sea islanders to keep their bread-fruit : nor ought we to fail to notice the
manner in which Providence points out to different tribes the same wise means of
preserving their food, and providing against a season of scarcity." (p. 399.) A
similar reflection will naturally occur to the reader with respect to their mode of
decoying deer and ducks : their plan, in the latter instance, differing very little
from our own j in the former, being conducted on the principle of the stalking-
horse, (p. 399, 400. See also De Bry, vol. i. pi. 25. Descript. of Florida.)
On one occasion, in alluding to the structure of the bow among uncivilized na
tions, Captain Beechy forcibly reminds the classical reader of a line in the first book
of the Iliad :Suv« Ss *,\a.yyn ylivv' apyupioio fiioio: for, after having said that the Califor-
nians string their bows much as we do (p. 402,) he states that the Esquimaux
leave the string in contact with about a foot of the wood at each end ; while the
Californians muffle that part with fur, in order to prevent the report, which would
betray them, when fighting in ambush, (p. 575.)

148 EXERCISE OF THE
as fertile as Europe, have afforded no indications of an approach
towards that degree of civilisation which would lead them to dis
cover and apply its resources.
But, though it would be a vain and useless speculation to inquire
in what way the arts and sciences actually arose, or how it has hap
pened that they were more or less successfully cultivated by different
nations, it cannot be either uninteresting or uninstructive 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 origi
nal intention of this treatise. The materials for this comparison,
which will be attempted only on a plan the most general, have been
principally derived from Lucretius, and from that work of Aristotle
which is entitled, ngpi Zuuv 'ioVopiaj . It should be remembered, how
ever, 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 ancients, though on many
occasions as accurate observers 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 consider 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 the highest prerogative of
reason, or our intellectual nature, to know the actual extent of its
own powers: and it is one of the glories of the philosophy "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, acknow
ledges the point which for the present must be considered as a bar
rier to further progress ; still however looking forward to the period
when the increased accumulation of new facts shall enable it to re
move 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, Lucretius assumes that matter in its
primary form consists of very small 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 con-

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 149
stantly witnessing, as the death and consequent decomposition of
vegetables and animals, and the wearing away of the most solid
bodies by the effect and exposure 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 indestructible.
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 or atoms
must be perfectly solid.* He impugns, as opposed to common sense,
the doctrine of Heraclitus that all things are formed from fire,f and
also the doctrine of others, that all things are formed from fire or
air, or water or earth ;J or from binary combinations of them, as of
air and fire, or of earth and water : and, lastly, he rejects also the
doctrine of Empedocles, that all natural substances are produced
from the joint union of fire, earth, air, and water.§ And Lucretius,
himself supposes that the original atoms of matter may, by a mere
variation in the modes of combination, produce all the objects of
nature, whether animate or inanimate ; illustrating his argument in
geniously by a reference to the fact, that an endless variety of words,
of the most different meaning and sound, is produced by various
combinations of the same letters.||
It is not necessary, on the present occasion, to comment on the
obviously atheistical character of some of the opinions of Lucretius :
but it may safely be affirmed that, although he strains the applica
tion of his general argument so as to support a belief in the eternity
of matter, denying equally its creation and destructibility ; yet the
basis of his argument, if confined, as it ought to bave been, to the
existing constitution of the earth, rests on a legitimate deduction
from the phenomena of nature : for, certainly, there is no reason for
believing that a particle of matter has either been lost or added to the
earth or to the atmosphere, since their creation. And, in reasoning
from the mere phenomena, Lucretius justly asks, if everything which
disappears, in consequence of age and apparent decay, is actually
destroyed, whence is there a renewal of animal or vegetable life ?
how do rivers continue to flow? TI concluding with one of those beau
tiful illustrations, in which his poem abounds. " It may be said per
haps, that the showers, which sink into the earth and are lost to our
sight, apparently 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, more
over, animal life in general derives its support ; the sportive lamb
hence draws its nutriment from its full-fed mother, and wantons
round the meads and woods ; and hence those woods themselves
* Lucret. lib. I. passim. § Lib. I. 713—717.
+ Lib. I. 636—639, and 691—700. 11 Lib. I. 817—829.
I Lib. 1. 706-712. ' • 1 Lib. 1. 226-232.
13*

150 EXERCISE OF THE
yearly resounded 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 matter, from the materials of those which have apparently 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
gravitation, 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 inhabit the opposite, or, as it were, the inferior sur
face of the earth, are no more capable of falling into the sky which
surrounds them, than the animals inhabiting our own, or the rela
tively upper surface of the earth, are capable of rising into the sky
which is placed above them. And, correspondently with the spheri
cal form of the earth, which almost necessarily follows as a corol
lary 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 ten
dency of all heavy bodies to fall towards the earth, and of the ac
celeration of motion 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 specific
gravity, that is, of the cause why equal bulks 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.J 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 affirms, 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.§
Lucretius considers light as a very subtle kind of matter, which,
from its tenuity, is capable of inconceivably swift motion ; the rapi
dity of which motion he instances in its nearly instantaneous diffu
sion 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 bodies is not inherent in those bodies, and that in every
instance it is produced by the direction, or other circumstances,
under which light impinges either on them, or on the eye of the be-
* Lib. I. 251—265. t Lib. VI. 334—346. and lib. I. 359—370.
t Lib. I. 1051—1065. § Lib. I. 347—354.
II Lib. IV. 184—190, and 200—202.

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 151
holder : 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 coun
tenances of the audience, and the whole interior of a theatre, closed
in with coloured curtains, are tinged with the colour of those cur-
tains.-|- He instances the foregoing position by a reference to the
colour of the sea ; which, when viewed in the mass, is blue or green;
but, when converted into mere spray, is white.J And he argues
that colour does not belong to the ultimate constituent parts of bodies,
on this ground — that if coloured bodies be reduced to minute parti
cles, the colour vanishes.^
Occasionally he employs terms which, even at the present day, cor
rectly express the fact of the equality of the angle of incidence and of
reflexion : and he graphically describes the effect of refraction in al
tering the line of direction of the rays of light.|| But, in alluding to
the phenomenon of the rainbow, he briefly states some of the circum
stances under which it appears ; without attempting to account for
the mode in which the effect is produced.!!
Lucretius supposes heat to be a material substance, because it ex
cites a specific sensation in animal bodies :** and, notwithstanding the
obvious alliance between heat and light, which is observable in many
common phenomena and operations, he conjectures, what has be6n
most unexpectedly ascertained by the experiments of the late Dr. Her-
schel, that there are rays of heat emitted from the sun, which are dis
tinct from the rays of light emitted from the same source.ff
In speaking of the natural sources of heat, he observes, that it is
generally produced by rapid motion ; and gives as an instance of the
heating and even the liquefaction of a leaden bullet, which has been
projected through the air. with great force and rapidity. J J He also
notices friction as a source of heat ; instancing the fire which is pro
duced by the mutual attrition of branches of trees.§§ In speaking of
compression, as another source of heat, he not only gives the more
obvious and probable illustration of lightning, expressed or forced out
from a condensed cloud :||[| but, in mentioning a spring of water ob
served to be periodically warmer in the night, and colder in the day,
he almost anticipates the views of modern chemistry respecting the
different capacities of bodies for heat ; when, in accounting for the
fact, he supposes the heat to be forced by compression, occasioned by
diminution of temperature, from the surrounding earth into the wa-
ter.lfll His interpretation indeed of the phenomenon is not correct ;
but this error does not interfere with the ingenuity pf the illustration,
or its coincidence with modern hypothesis : and it is remarkable that,
* Lib. II. 794—808. *• Lib. I. 299—304.
t Lib. IV. 70—78. ft Lib. V. 609—612.
i Lib. II. 736—772. }{ Lib. VI. 176, 177, and 305—307.
§ Lib. II. 825—832. §§Lib. V. 1095—1099.
II Lib. IV. 319—324, and 438-444. |||| Lib. VI. 270—275.
IT Lib. VI. 524—526. ITT Lib, VI. 861—873.

152 EXERCISE OF THE
even after the lapse of twenty centuries, the real nature of heat is still
questionable. We now know that, in such instances as that just men
tioned, the apparent difference of temperature depends upon the rela
tive temperature of the surrounding air ; water which has been re
cently drawn up from the well feeling cold 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 tem
perature 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.*
From various phenomena, as from the drying of linen, or from its
becoming damp without a visible accession or exhalation of particles
of moisture, Lucretius argues that water is capable of existing in the
state of an invisible vapour, f He asserts also that its constant exha
lation from the sea is proved by the corrosion of walls built near the
sea-shore, and from the salt taste perceptible in our mouths while
walking near the sea ;J and that, although this exhalation takes place
in a small quantity only, at any given moment and from a given sur
face, 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 notwithstanding 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 quantity that is evaporated from the
surface of it.||
In speaking oi atmospherical air, Lucretius maintains that, although
in its nature invisible, and to all common perception intangible, from
various phenomena it may be reasonably inferred, that it is really 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 hurricane, they snap asunder the stateliest oaks, and lay
prostrate in their course the honours of the mountain forest ; we can
not 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 obstacle, or carry
up the heaviest bodies into the atmosphere, in their invisible eddies,
with no less ease than the eddies of a rapid stream ingulf whatever
* Aristotle, ih his history of animals, mentions as a fact, without 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 wa
ter during the night, he adds as a reason, that during the night the water is warmer
than the air, (bxtmirepov yap \<rit tis alSpa.;, Ed. Bekkeu. p. 37.)
t Lib. I. 306—311. § Lib. V. 381—394.
* Lib. IV. 219-227. || Lib. VI. 607-630.

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 153
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 difference
in the velocity of falling bodies of different weights : "for, were there
no resistance in the air, he asserts, and the fact is experimentally
shown in modern lectures, that unequal weights, meeting with no im
pediment or support, would fall with equal velocityf.
Lucretius distinctly notices the physical office of the air as a recep
tacle, and medium of conveyance for soundj and odours,§ and the
various exhalations continually arising from the surface of the earth||.
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 supposing them to be a protection against the mechanical action of
that element.^! The science of chemistry, 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 formed some reasonable conjectures re
specting the nature of light and heat ; and that several of the physical
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 subtle nature, the mutual attraction of
the magnet and iron, the explanation of the phenomenon was attempt
ed with a degree of ingenuity quite equal to that, which has marked
the reasonings of some of the philosophers of the last and present cen
tury, on subjects of a similarly abstruse nature.
In proceeding to account for the attraction of iron by the mag
net, 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 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 solution can be given. Thence, assum
ing 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 bodies, such
minute and specific particles are constantly emanating ; that this
emanation dissipates the air from the space intermediate to the
• Lib. I. 272—295. § Lib. IV. 219—222, and 228—230.
t Lib. II. 230—239. II Lib. V. 276, 277.
i Lib. IV. 561—563, and 572, 573. if Lib. IV. 930—934.

154 EXERCISE OF 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 subsequently adheres by an in
visible bond of union ; and so, in succession, all the other rings are
impelled : the adhesion taking place by some process, as insensible
as that which unites glue to wood ; mortar to stone ; or the colour
ing particles of the purple die, 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 comparison of them with the present state of
science in those departments : and though Pliny dedicates a consi
derable proportion of his Natural History both to minerals and
vegetables, there is nothing sufficiently 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, 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 preceding section, that
in mineralogy and botany we scarcely find among the ancients the
slightest indications of those comprehensive systems, in the con
struction of which the last and present centuries have been princi
pally 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 assertion, I
propose to offer a short and cursory analysis of that work of
Aristotle which is entitled IIspi ZiJwv 'IoVepias y\ comparing it at the
same time with similar modern works, and particularly with that of
Cuvier entitled, " Le Regne Animal, distribue" d'apres son Organiza
tion," which was published in Paris in the year 1817, in four octavo
volumes.;]; * Lib. VI. 906—1088.
fit 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.
* 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.

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 155
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 in order to illustrate the
magnitude of such an undertaking, 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 " Regne Animal." He there at once confesses, with
reference to his own work, that it would have been utterly impos
sible for any insulated individual, however 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 ob
served, 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 accom
plished Naturalists ; deriving information from their works at the
moment of their publication ; 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, Le-
vaillant, Oppel and Blainville, Lacepede, and Lamarck, in the re
spective departments of quadrupeds, birds, reptiles, fish, and testace
ous animals ; all which classes of animals are described in the two
first volumes of his work. And he particularly expresses his obli
gations to Latreille, who furnished him with the entire third volume
of the " Regne 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 minuteness 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 confidence, we may rely on Cuvier's work, as a similar
• Preface, p. ix. x. f/Pref. p. xi.

156 EXERCISE OF THE
representation of the existing state of knowledge in the same de
partment, I may safely refer to it as a standard of comparison
with reference to the knowledge 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 prudent to make
this statement, lest any of my readers should be led, in consequence
of an incorrect reference, to doubt the fidelity of the representa
tion 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 consequence of what may be called his
Pindaric style of digression ; which is occasionally so abrupt as to
beat 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. ("ExEI "^ *a' ° /36vatfo£ to, hrig
iiiravra Sjioia, /3ot. p. 45.) And, again, in the midst of a whole page
descriptive of snakes, when speaking of their cloven tongue, he ab
ruptly says that the seal (an animal not more like a snake, than the
bonassus the turtle) also has a cloven tongue. ("E^ei Ss xal -fj cpuxij
Ju'^iff'fji.EV'jjv r-ffi yXuTrav. 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 can
not be consistently admitted to have originated with him : and such,
assuredly, is the solution offered in explanation of the physical pheno
menon to which allusion is made in the proverb, del Ai/3ui] cpspsi <n xaivot:
respecting which he says " that, in consequence of the want of rain
in Libya, 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 together and pro
duce new forms."
(TIoXu|jt,op(po'ra<ra Si (ra £ua) Iv rj) Ai/3urj — 5ia yap r^v «vof/-/3piav pitfyeiOou
SoxeT ottfavrawa ifpb? ro vSoltiol, xai rot f/,17 ofAoqjuXa, y.0.1 &<pspsiv cDv oi "xjpbm °'
7% mijosug pi airoi xoti to, psyUri pv>i *oXu dtf' aKkrikuv tfpos' aXX»)Xa Ss
crpauvsrca Sia rrjv <rou xorou ^psiav. 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 im
mediately succeed to lifeless forms of matter; and that although
among plants the degree of the living power is "various, some

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 157
being indued with a greater portion of it than others ; yet, con
sidered 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 forms of matter, but devoid of
life in comparison with animals. The change from the vegetable
to the animal nature is as gradual, as from inanimate to vegetable
matter : for there are some marine productions, of which it is diffi
cult to affirm whether they are animal or vegetable; since they
permanently adhere to the spot where they are found, and cannot
be separated from it without perishing; and they manifest very
obscure, if any, signs of sensation. Indeed the whole class of testa
ceous animals can scarcely be considered as superior to plants,
when compared with those animals which are indued with the
power of moving from place to place."
(Oiiru <T ix tojv aJ/i^uv e)g rd £cjot fi.sra/3aivsj xard (Aixpov fy cpbtfvg, (ioVs t"/\
(fuvg^siot Xav$dv£iv to u.s#opiov aurwv x«i <ro \tiitSm irorepuv iffriv (j.srd yap to
tuv aJyuj^ojv ylvoj to tcjv (purwv ifpcHrov Jifriv xai toutojv sVspov irpos Erspov
(Siaipspei tgj f^aXXov SoxsTv (aets'^siv £w5j£, oXov Ss to ys'voff tfpoS jxev rdXXa
<Twu,ara ipaivsrai tf^E^dv fflaVsp eja^u^ov, ifphi Si to <tuv £wwv osJ/U^ov. % ds
(AETa/3arfiff i\ awwv elg rd ^ua Clivers EflViv — svia y«p <ruv iv tyj OaXdrrTj Sia-
*op»;o,Eisv av rig tfdrspov £o/ov itfrtv ») <purov tfpoiiritpvxl yap, xai ^«pi^o(AEva
oroXXa Siouf6sipsrai twv toioijtuv — 6'Xwj' Ss tfav to ys'vos to twv oVrpaxoiSEpixwv
(pv-Totg sums #pog t« tfodsurixd twv £w'wv. xai irspi aiiSyjifeug, rd |J.sv aurwv ou5s,
sv (T^^ai'vErai. p. 212, 213.)
Again, if we regard the substance of the lower species of marine
bodies, though in some instances, as in sea-nettles, it approaches
to the character of flesh; in others, as in sponge, it closely re
sembles a vegetable matter. And, lastly, as different bodies appear
to partake, in different degrees, of life itself; so do they differ
with respect to the degrees of activity in the functions of life.
Plants, for instance, seem to be incapable of effecting much be
yond their individual nutrition, and the continuation of their species :
and the same observation holds with respect to the lowest species of
animals. By the addition of sensibility in different degrees, the
pleasure and activity of life are increased ; first in the gratification
arising from mutual intercourse ; and further, in the natural affec
tion which the parent feels for its offspring, and in the care of
providing food for it."
('H Ss rov dii^aroi svi'wv tfapxwdV edri (pidiS, oiov to re xaXoufASvot, rijSva.
xai to rwv «xa,X7]<pwv ysvos* 6 5s oVoyyog ifavreXui some toij tpuroTg. ail Se xard
(Mxpav (Siaipopdv sVspa #po STE'puv rjSri ipaiWai (AaXXov gufiv syovra. xai xivijtfir
xa.) xar« ro\g tou ,/3(ou Ss tfpagsig rov aurov s^ei rpoVov. rav te ydp ipvruv spyov
ouoev aXXo (paiWai tfXiiv oiov auro *oi5jrfai tfdXiv Erspov, o<ra yivErai Sik oVf'pjAa-
roi' ou,olug Se xai ruv £uojv iviuv irapa r?jv yivediv ovSev Effriv aXXo \a8sni
£>y0V  irpoiToiJOV <T ald&r)dsus 9jSt\, ifepi rs tyjv o'^siav Sicl rqv fyJovijv Siacpepovdtv
au-ruv ol jSi'oi, xai «p< roOs roxous xai Tag Jxrpotpds ruv te'xvuv. p. 213.)
Some animals, then, merely extend their species, after the manner
of plants, at stated seasons ; and take no care of the individuals
14

158 EXERCISE OF THE
produced by them. And even of those animals which provide
nourishment for their offspring, the greater number exercise their
care for a definite period only ; that is, till their young are capable
of providing for themselves : after which, they forsake or have no
further communication with them. Some indeed, apparently in
dued with a higher degree of intelligence, enter into a social com
munion, and establish a kind of polity with their offspring."
(Td (aev ouv eWXws', urieep ipurd, xard rag upas «iror£Xsr r^v oixsiav yivsdiv
rd Ss xai itspi rag rpo<pds sWovsirai tojv te'xvwv, 6'rav <5' chsorsKidj], ^wpi^ovrai
xai xoivwrjidv ouifefjuav En iroioffvrar ra Ss dvverurspa xai xoivuvoCvra jtvTjfMiff iiri
tfXsov xa? *oXiTixur£pov ^puvrai roij difoyovoig. p. 213.)
And he makes a distinction in another part of his treatise between
such animals, and those which are simply gregarious ; the former
being characterised by the disposition to contribute collectively to
the completion of some one work ; as man, the bee, the ant, &c.
(iroXir/xa S' idriv c3v sv ri xai xoivov yi'vsrai itavruv to I'pyov o*Ep ou *dvra tote?
rd dysXafa. e'tfri Se roiourov av&purfog, pehirra, dyrg, (Aupu,*]|. p. 4.
With the exception of the opinion that inanimate matter gradu
ates into life, nothing advanced by Aristotle in the foregoing obser
vations, if considered in the light of a general statement, is contra
dicted or set aside by our present knowledge. For no opinion
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, humanly speaking, an infinitely less effort of
creative and superintending power than the most simple vegetable?
In the mineral we find a perfect similarity, 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 pnternal 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 individuals of the vegetable king
dom, 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 vege
table, 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 con
sider the former body, when compared with the latter ; and how

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 159
incalculably a greater power of creation do the phenomena of
animal organization indicate ! Gorgeous 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 the eagle's eye, or the
fire-breathing nostril of the horse 1 Most assuredly, in our estimation
of excellence, the intellectual and moral image will always bear the
pre-eminence ; and, whether or not the physical conformation may
eventually be found to correspond, philosophers have actually
classed animals in such an order, that those which manifest the higher
degree of intelligence, and of moral feeling, are comparatively higher
in the scale.
As instances of the equivocal character of those particular forms
of organized matter to which Aristotle alludes, when speaking of the
obscure boundary that separates animals from vegetables, corallines
and substances of that kind may be adduced among animals ; and,
among vegetables, those green, and in appearance gelatinous conferva
which are found in abundance in stagnant ditches during the sum
mer. And these, and similar examples, seem to show that, after a
lapse of more than twenty centuries, the difficulty of defining the
boundary between animal and vegetable organization still exists; a
difficulty which is fully admitted by the principal physiologists of the
present day.*
In examining, however, more particularly the preceding opinions
of Aristotle, there is one which does not accurately agree with the
present state of our knowledge : there is not, namely, that continuity
of gradation which he expresses by the term rfuv^Eia.-j- There is pro
bably no living philosopher who advocates the opinion that gradual
advances may be traced from the state of inanimate matter to that
of life : for even Lamarck, who entertains the opinion of a gradation
in structure among animals to a very extraordinary extent, considers
that the difference between organized and unorganized matter, in
other words between living and lifeless matter, is extreme ; so that
they cannot possibly be ranged in the same line. And he also be
lieves that, however remarkable may be the apparent affinity between
plants and animals, they may always be distinguished.!
But a regular gradation of form cannot even be traced in one and
the same kingdom of nature : for, with reference to animals, Cuvier
disclaims any attempt to class them so as to form a single series de
scending gradually from the higher to the lower classes. Such an
* See Macleay's Horae Entomologies, p. 191.
t A modern parallel to this opinion may be found in the geological hypothesis
that the simplest forms of animal life occur only in the older strata ; more and more
complicated forms appearing in the more recent formations. The progress of geo
logy has shown that this is not really the case. See Prof. Sedgwiok's Address to
the Geol. Soe. p. 2.
* Lamarck, Philosoph. Zoolog. tom. i. p. 377, 384 j and 398, in note 1.

ifiO EXERCISE OF THE
attempt he thinks absurd ; and is far from supposing that, even in a
separate class, the last in order are the lowest in the degree of their
organization ; and still further is he from supposing that the last of a
higher class are more highly advanced than the first of the class im
mediately succeeding. He merely allows that a regularly graduated
scale is occasionally observable to a certain extent ; and maintains
that the universal application of such a principle is inadmissible on
any philosophical grounds.* And Lamarck himself agrees with Cu
vier in this opinion. -
The only formal terms of classification employed by Aristotle are
e'lSog and ys'vos, of the first of which he gives a remarkably precise de
finition. That definition is really, though not in literal order, as fol
lows : — " an animal species is an assemblage of individual animals, in
which not only the whole form of any one resembles the whole form
of any other, but each part in any one resembles the corresponding
part in any other. Thus every horse not only resembles every other
horse generally, but the eye or the hoof of every horse resembles
the eye or hoof of every other horse. And the same statement is ap
plicable to man and other animals. They are therefore the same in
the character of their individual parts."
("E^ei Se ruv ^uuv evia fjisv tfdvra rd p.6pia raurd dXX*|Xoi£, I'via 8' trepa.
Taurd Si rd fxsv s'iSsi rwv fxopi'ov eoViv, oiov dvdpiWou £lg xai o(pdaX(jios «vdpw-
irou giv? xai o<pdaXu,y, xai' tfagxi tfajf xai odrui otfrouv rov aurov Se rpoVov xai iWou
xai ruv dXXwv ^uoov, orfa ru e'iSsi raurd XEyou,Ev laurois- ofjtoiwS ydp &j<f#£p to
6'Xov ej^si irpojro 6'Xov, xai twv [Aopi'wv I^ei sxarfrov tfpoj sxadrov. p. 1.)
In comparing the preceding definition of Aristotle with the cor
responding difinition of Cuvier, we find that there is no essential dif
ference. Cuvier says, " Every organized body has, exclusively of the
common qualities of its tissue, a peculair or proper form ; not only
generally and externally, but even in the detail of the structure of
each of its parts. f And all the individuals belonging to one of these
defined forms constitute what is called a species."^
Aristotle thus defines the term yhog. "A genus is an assemblage
of individuals, in which any one bears, upon the whole, an obviously
perceptible resemblance 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 dif
ferent genera, indeed, the difference of corresponding parts occasion
ally proceeds still further ; the only resemblance being that of ana
logy, as between a scale and a feather ; a scale being to a fish, what
a feather is to a bird."
* Kegne Animal, pref. p. xx, xxi.
f Clisque corps organise, ontre les qualites communes de son tissu, a une forme
propre, non-seulement en general et a l'exterieur, mais jusque dans le detail de la
structure de chacune de ses parties. Tom. i. p. 16.
t Ettous les etres appartenans a 1'une de ces formes constituent ce que l'on ap-
pelle une espece. Tom. i. p. 19.

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 161
Td Ss raurd (hev stfriv, Siaipipst Ss xad1 i5*spo^v xai eXXsi^iv, 6'tfwv rb ys'vos
£oVi raurov. Xsyw Seyivog oiov opvida xai l/iuv rourwv yap exdrEpov eyei 5ia<po-
pdv xard to ysvos, xai I'tfriv s'i8i\ ffXsi'w Jj^uwv xai oVvMwv. Aiaps'psi 51 tiysSh
ra irXeTdra tgjv (Aopiuv iv airafs tfapd rds ruv tfadrjfjidrav EvavrifcirfEis, oiov xpu-
fwtros xai tf^fnaroff, rtji rd (Jtiv fitaXXov aura irsirovdE'vai rd 8s ^rrov, eti Si #X?j0£i
xai okiyortfri xai pteysAsi xai tfudxpoVrin xai 6'Xojj uirspo^jj xai IXXei'^ei. p. 1.
' AXX' iiS siVeiv rd. ir'KeTdra xai i£ cDv [/.epuv 6 itag oyxog tfuvstfrrixsv, t\ raurd idnv
rj Siucpipsi ro7g havr'ioig xai xa$' uirspojpjv xai IXXsi-^iv. — "Evia 5s ruiv £ojoov ours
s'/5si rd (jiopia raurd sj^si ours xaO' utfEpojfiiv xai sXXei^iv, aXXa xar' dvaXoyiav,
oiov tfEirovdsv— tfpoj tfrEpov Xs*if o ydp ev opvifh ^rspov, touto h V/bui idr:
Xeirig. p. 2.
But although Aristotle used the term ys'vos, in its primary sense, as
applicable to an assemblage of different species having a general re
semblance to each other ; he extends it indefinitely, so that it is prac
ticably applicable to the modern and more comprehensive 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 re
markable that he sometimes uses the termyE'vos as synonymous with
e'/Sos-, or even a still lower denomination ; implying, that is, merely
an accidental variation in a species.
The following are instances of an undefined use of the term ys'vo?.
Having spoken of red-blooded and vertebrated animals, he adds,
ra, Ss Xoitfa yE'v»j ruv ^£jwv edn fjosv rirrapa Siyjprmiva sig y£vr\: (p. 104.)
in which passage yhog is first equivalent either to the species or to the
genus ; and afterwards to the order, or to the class, of modern zoolo
gists. In another passage he says, eld! Ss yivi\ ruv ^eXXittuv *Xeiw ;
(p. 287.) where yevog is evidently used as e'lSog.
Aristotle was quite aware of the necessary connexion 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 :" (s'x£l ^s xal uypbrrjra tfav £wov, rig tfrspio'xou.svov — <p3sip£rai. p. 7.)
and as the colour of this fluid in the higher classes of animals is al
ways red, (erfn <5e ri]V iputfiv ro aifia — s'j^ov — ro^pwjjia Jpudpov. p. 75.) hence,
forthe purpose of distinctive description, he assumes the colour as
an essential quality ; and calls those animals which have red blood
hai\>.a, and those which have not red blood avatpu. And thus he
established a fundamental natural division, answering to the red-
blooded and white-blooded animals of modern zoology : and it is of
great importance, with reference to his principle of classification, to
bear in mind that he places the I'vai^a, 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 vertebras ; (*dvra 5s ra %Cia, 6Va I'vaifwx
SflViv eV£i £dyiv, p. 66, duyxeirai 5' »j gd^ij ix d<povSi\uv. p. 65.) and he saw,
consequently, the coincidence of these two conditions in the classi
fication of animals : and hence we find vertebrated animals occupy-
in" the first division in his scale, as well as in the scale of modern
43 14#

162 EXERCISE OF THE
-naturalists; though, in consequence of his desultory method of treat
ing the subject, it requires some care to ascertain the order of his ar
rangement. 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 re
mind 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.
(Tcjv iv ro~g £uoij (Aopiwv rd jae'v Jrfnv adivkra, oda 5iaipsirai sfc ofAoiop-EpSj,
p. 1. Tuv 5' 6f«,oiou.£puv xoivoVarov u.ev eoti to aijxa — xai to fAopiov sv u xecpvxsv
iyyivsddai (roOVo Se xaXsirai (pXs\|>,) — xal h\ rfdpg — otfrouv — Sippa, u(J.r,v — Tpi'^ES
— ififAEX}). p. 55.
He then distributes the several classes of animals into those which
have blood, and those which have not blood : and though in the first
instance his distribution is very confused, yet, when adjusted by sub
sequent statements, the order of arrangement is as follows. Among
those which have blood, are man, viviparous and oviparous quadru
peds, birds, fish, cetaceous animals, and serpents.
(Td (aev Ivaijxa — dvu'pwtffe r£ xai rd ^uoroxa ruv rerpaifbSuv, eti 5s xai rd
uoroxa ruv r£rpairo5uv xai1 6'pviS xa; lybus xal xrpog, xai — ocpie. p. 42.)
Among those which have not blood, are animals naturally divisi
ble into segments, as insects ; animals of a soft substance throughout,
as cuttlefish, &c. ; animals having comparatively a soft shell, as
lobsters, &c. ; and those which have a hard shell, as oysters, &c.)
("AXXo 5s yE'voj sdri rb ruv 6rfrpaxo5£pp,uv, o xaXsirai otfrpEov aXXo to ruv
fAaXaxotfrpdxuv — oiov xdpa/3oi xai yivi\ nvd xapxivwv xai dffTaxwv aXXo to ruv
(xaXaxiwv, oiov — rfrjifiai" srEpov to ruv svr6(i.wv. Taura 5s irdvra u.ev Erfriv dvaifia.
p. 10.
He proceeds then to say, that " after having considered the com
mon attributes and actual differences of animals, we must endeavour
to find out the causes of these ; for only by a demonstration and
comparison of the peculiarities of individuals can we hope to arrive
at a natural method of classification."
(TIpcoTov ra( uifap^oucfas 5iaipopdff xal rd dunl3ej3r;xbra rtwdi Xd/3uU/Sv. Mfrd
Se touto raj airiag rouruv , irsiparsov supsni. ouru yap xara cpidiv sdri "rtisiirtSai
rrjv ixshSov, i<irap)(o6di)g ryg ioVopiaj rvjf *spi exadrov. p. 11.)
" And, first, we must compare together the several component
members of animals ; for the chief differences among animals will
* Anticipations of modern physiological opinions are occasionally observable in
Galen also. Thus the following passage clearly contains the germ of Bichat's doc
trine of organic sensibility. "In vegetables there is a peculiar power of sensation,
by which, though incapable of sight, or hearing, &c. they are capable of distin
guishing between those particles of matter which will nourish them, and those that
will not ; attracting the one, and rejecting the other."
("ETfigcV iO-Tt yhoc aiaBiivim 'a rotg qvrois — outs yctp rav opvray, avrt ray etzovc.
rauev k. r. \. *XU Sia-yyootrty, ulkkol ftcvov raiy rpeqttv « f*» rpiqety Suvapeatv ra, pity yap
rpzqeiv Svyafxita wpoe iavrnv ehKowra n. r. ?.. fAtra(Za.Wii 7rpog to cikuov t»? rpi<popsvnc
evTHts; ra. Se /j,» Sv>af*Ma,rpi<ftiy ou upoa-iirai. — Gai.eni Op. Kuhn, vol. iv, p. 764.)

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 163
be found in the presence or absence of particular members, and in
their order or position ; or in their form, proportion, the analogy of
their uses, or the peculiarities of their colour, &c."
(Ar\<iiriov 8s ttpurov ra fx-epyj ruv £oiuv Ig SJv d\>vedri\xev . Kara ydp raura
p.aXirfra xai rfpura 5iaips'pSi xai rd o'Xa, y ru rd |iiv e^eiv rd 5s fwj i^eiv, fj rr\
Udeixal rji rdgsi, ?) xai1 xard rds sip^Evas *por£pov 5iai}iopdff, si'5si xai iitepoyji
xai avakoyia xal ruv itaA^druv IvavrioVriri. p. 11.)
In the same philosophical spirit, and in terms not essentially dif
ferent, Cuvier affirms that, in the attempt to establish a natural clas
sification, he examined one by one all the species that he could pro
cure ; and then classed together as a subordinate generic group all
those which, resembling each other in the more important parts of
their structure, differed only in size, or in colour, or in other points
of little importance." (J'ai examine" une a une toutes les especes
que j'ai pu me procurer en nature ; j'ai rapproche celles qui ne dif-
feraient l'une de l'autre que par la taille, la couleur, ou le nombre
de quelques parties peu importantes, et j'en ai fait ceque j'ai nomme"
un sous-genre. Pref. p. xii.)
In the examination of the component members of animals in ge
neral, Aristotle selects man as a standard 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 em
ploy man as a standard, because we are more familiar with the hu
man form than with that of any other animal.
(ripurov 5s ra rov dvdpuirov (jisp*) Xitittsov udirep yap rd vof/.ia'jjt.ara ifpos* to
airoUg sxatfroi yvupifjiurarov 5oxif/.d£ouo'iv, ouru 8fi xai iv roTg aXXois* 6 5' avdpw-
ffog ruv <£uuv yvupi\kurarov fyfuv e| dvayxyg idr'iv. p. 11.)
And, man being admitted as the standard of comparison, it neces-'
sarily follows that, as a general rule, viviparous animals, birds, rep
tiles, and fish, would respectively come next in succession : and that
order, as we have just seen, Aristotle actually observes. In one in
stance, indeed, he for a specific reason inverts the order of arrange
ment ; and, commencing 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 descrip
tion with man, as having the most complicated structure of all
animals. f'E*si Ss Sirspf\rai ra yevr\ tfpurov, rov auYov rpoVov xai vuv ifeiparsov tfoisib'o'ai
rr\v (Jswpiav irXi^v ro'rs f*sv r^v dp^r/v sVoiouu.so'a tfxotfouvrss #spi" t6jv fispCv dV
dv/jpuifov, vuv Se irspi rourou rsXsuraiov Xsxrsov 5id to #Xs(ut?)v s^eiv tfpayfAa-
rsiav. p. 112.)
And he then enumerates the several classes in the following or
der ; " animals having a hard shell ; animals having a soft shell ;
mollusca, or animals of a soft substance throughout ; insects ; fish ;
birds ; oviparous and viviparous quadrupeds ; and man : by invert
ing which order we arrive at a correct view of his original arrange
ment."

164 EXEECISE OF THE
(Ilpwrov 5' dpxriov d*6 rwv o<rrpaxo5£p[/.wv> (A£rd Se ravra irepl ruv (naXaxofl'-
rgdxuv. xai rd aXXa Si rourov rov rpcVov Epsf 3JS-- sVri 5s rd rs /xaXdzia xai rd
evrojJ.a, xal (xsrd ravra rb rwv lyfivuv ys'vos, ro rs ^woroxov xai rj uoroxo» aiiruv,
si'ra to ruv opvidwv. (i.srd 5s raura tfspi rwv #s£wv Xsxrs'ov, erfa ts Jfiioroxa xai
o'tfa uoroxa 5' idrl ruv rerparfoSuv svia, xal avSputfog ruv SiiioSuv jaovov. p, 112,)
It is remarkable that, from the age of Aristotle to nearly that of
Linnceus, no systematic classification of animals was attempted;
none, at least, was generally adopted. Soon after the commence
ment of the last century Linnaeus directed his attention to the sub
ject; and distributed the whole animal kingdom into six classes,
mammalia, birds, reptiles, fish, insects, and worms : in which distri
bution Lamarck observes that he improved on Aristotle, first, by
using the more distinctive term mammalia, and placing the cetaeea
in that class ; and, next, by making 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, Aris
totle's arrangement of vertebrated animals agrees with that of the
present day. And in distributing all other animals into four classes,
which Linnasus distributes into two only, Aristotle must be consider
ed as having proceeded upon the more philosophical principle; be
cause the species of these animals, taken collectively, are much more
numerous, and much more diversified in their form and structure,
than the species of vertebrated animals. Lamarck's objection to
Aristotle's arrangement, on the ground of its commencing with ani
mals of a more complicated instead of those of a more simple struc
ture, is, for more than one reason, of little weight : for, in asserting
that such an arrangement is contrary to the order of nature, he
makes a peculiar hypothesis of his own the basis of that assertion ;
and, with the exception of Lamarck himself, almost if not all modern
naturalists, including Cuvier, adopt the same principle of arrange
ment as that of Aristotle.
Lamarck objects with more justice to the terms svaifjia and avaijxa,
as also to the supposed improvement of some modern naturalists by
the substitution of the equivalent terms, red-blooded and ivhite-blood-
ed; because in the second of those two divisions some species are
included, as worms, &c. which have red blood. On this ground
Lamarck proposed to divide all animals into those which have, and
those which have not, vertebras ; or into vertebral and invertebral
animals.* And he extended the two invertebral classes of Lin
naeus to fi,ve, and subsequently to ten.f
With reference to the classification of Aristotle, as expressed in
his first book, it has been occasionally observed by literary men,
who were not familiar with the details of his history, that quadru
peds in general and reptiles are excluded. " The most comprehen
sive groups into which 'the greater number of animals may be
* Philos. Zool. tom. i. p. 116, &c. tlbl<i' P> 121i 122-

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 165
distributed," he says, " are these: one, of birds; one, of fish ; one,
of whales and other cetaceous animals; all of which have blood.
There is another group of the idrpaxoSip^a ; another, of the (JwXaxoV-
rpaxa ; another, of the t*aXaxia ; and another, of the wopta ; all of
which are without blood. Of those animals which do not come
within the foregoing arrangement, there are no comprehensive
groups ; for no individual type comprehends many species : and
there is one type which is unique, affording only a single species,
namely, man. Some types afford different species without a differ
ence of specific denomination : thus there are red-blooded quad
rupeds, of which some are " viviparous, and others oviparous."
(rs'v»| 5s psyitfra rwv %uuv, eig oi Sriiprirai raXka %ya, raS' idrlv, iv uiv opvi-
dwv, ev 5' l-x&uuv, aXXo 5s xijrovS. Taura (xsv ouv tfdvra fvauxd idnv. aXXo 5s
yevog stfri ro rwv odrpaxoSip^uv — aXXo ro rwv u.aXaxo<r1pdxwv — aXXo.ro ruv
fAaXaxi'wv— srspov ro rwv ivrb^uv. Taura Se rtdvra \usv idnv dvai\i.a — Twv 5s
Xoitfwv £ojwv ouxe'ti rd yivi\ fASydXa- ou yap irspis^si iroXXd Si5rj ev sTSog, dk\d
ro (Xe'v JiTtiv d*Xouv auro oux e-^ov 5ia<popdv ro sl5oj, oTov dvdpuifog, rd S' 'iyei fi£v,
aXX' dvuvuu,a rd si5i). "EoVi yap rd TSrpairo5a xai (ju-ig ¦rrEpwrd svaifna (asv
mavra, aXXa rd \i.ev ^uorbxa rd 5' uorbxa aurwv. p. 1 0.)
And though there are many species of viviparous quadrupeds, yet
they have no collective denomination ; but each is distinguished, as
in the case of the human species, by its proper name ; as the lion,
deer, horse, &c. on which account we cannot describe them col
lectively, but must consider the individual nature and character of
each." (Tou 8s yivovg rou rwv rsrpa7ro5ojv £uwv xal ^uoroxuv s'iSrf (aev Idn *oXXd,
avuvuf^a Si' dXkd xad' exadrov aurwv ug siVsiv, woVsp av&puifog s'lprtrai, Xe'uv,
sXaopos, iWoj — Aio xai J£wpij Xa(AjSdvovraS dvdyxi] dsupsiu exadrov rr,v (pidiv
aurwv. p. 10.)
It is interesting to observe that even Cuvier occasionally ex
periences a similar difficulty in his classification; and expresses
himself, with reference to the difficulty, in nearly the same terms
as Aristotle. Thus, in introducing his third order of the mammalia,
called carnivora, he says, " The forms of the different genera of
this order are so various, that it is impossible to range them in
the same series : they are therefore divided into several families.*
And of one of these families, the marsupialia, to which the oppossum
and kanguroo belong, he observes, that " 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 resemble each other
in many points as for a long time to have been classed in one genus
* Les Carnassiers. — Leurs formes et les details de leur organisation varient beau-
coup — au point qu'il est impossible de ranger leurs genres sur une meme ligne, et
que Ton est oblige d'en former plusieurs families qui se lient diversement entre
elles par des rapports multiplies, tom. i. p. 121.
f Les Marsupiaux — pourraient presque former un ordre h part, tant ils offrent
de singulariles dans leur economic" tom. i. p. 169.

166 EXERCISE OF THE
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 ;* — and might
constitute even a separate and parallel class of mammalia.f
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 comprehend
ing 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 extensive class, if the term class be not too confined, the
animalia infusoria, he was almost necessarily ignorant ; most of the
species being microscopic.
It appears, from a few scattered notices, that Aristotle had a
faint idea that the specific characters and dispositions of animals
might be altered, from the effect of food and other circumstances :
(ruv %uuv ruv rerpairoSuv iroXXiiv ai %wpai iroiovdt 5ia<popdv ou fiovov itpbg rriv
aXXrjv rou dufj.arog' eirj^epiav aXXa xai ifpbg ro tfXsovdxij o%eved6ai xal yevvdv.
p. 122. "Oda fA£v ouv jxaXaxd? e^si rag rp'r/ag, evfiodia ^pw/jtsva dxXriporepas
'idyei, oda 8e dxXt)pag, jt-aXaxurspag xal ixdrrnvg. Aia(pE'pou<fi 5s xai xara rous
roVouff rous 6epfj,orepovg xal -^v^porepovg. p. 68.) 'Ev/ors yi'vsrai rwv (Aovo^powv
ix |jt,sXdvwv te xai (xsXavrs'pwv XEuxa — ix Ss ruv Xeuxwv ysvwv oux u«rai eig pe-
Xav (x£ra/3dXXov. 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 observing that, "as the actions
of animals are determined by their natural affections and physical
powers, so their moral habits, and even some of their physical
characters, are capable of being altered 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.
("Cldifep Ss rag irpdl-sif xara ra tfdoS] dvfj./3aivsi <if ois7d6ai rtadi roig t,uovgyovru
•KaXiv xai1 ra 9fli\ \>.sraf3aXXovdi xara raj irpafsij, iroXXdxij Ss xai ruv {/.opicov
svia, oiov iitl ruv opv'iSuv dvpfiaivsi. Ai' rs yap dXsxropf5s£ 6'rav vixydudi roiiff
appsvas', xoxxu^outfi rs fWfAoufAEvai roug appsvag xai1 o'^susiv stfivsipouVt, xai ro re
xaXXaiov sgai'psrai auVaij xai to oupotfuyiov, wtfrs fj/q htZ'iug ay sViyvuvat oVt 6tj-
Xsiai sidiv sviais 5s xai" *X5jxrpd nva u.ixpa ii(avsdrt\. p. 302.)
The fact is nearly as Aristotle states it ; and, to a certain ex-
*Malgre une ressemblance generale de leurs especes entre elles, tellement frap-
pante, que l'on n'en a fait long-temps qu'un seul genre, elles different si fort par les
dents, par les organes de la digestion et par les pieds, que si l'on s'en tenait rigou-
reusement a ces caracteres, il faudrait les repartir entre divers ordres. p. 170.
tOn dirait, en un mot, que les marsupiaux forment une classe distincte, parallel©
k celle des quadrupedes ordinaires. p. 171.

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 167
tent, similar facts are observable in the human species as well as
in other animals; namely, that the peculiar characters of the female
are occasionally obscured, with respect both to the physical form
and the moral habits. But, in reasoning on 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 ex
ternal form is dependent on, or at least coincident with an imper
fect developement, or a subsequent alteration, of the internal struc
ture ; 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, becomes so much altered as to lose its usual cha
racters ; (yuvij 5s raj sVi ry ysvs'iw ou <pj£i r^iyai- irXijv iviaig yiyvovrai oXiyai,
orav ra xarafx-rjvia drij. p. 70.) and, correspondently with these exterior
traces of virility, there is often in such cases a masculine tempera
ment of the mind, which marks the character of the virago. And,
on the other hand, from analogous causes analogous changes are
found to take place in the male of our own species, or of any
species nearly resembling our own : for, in such instances, the tone
of the voice and the general form of the body acquire a femi
nine character; and that firmness and resolution, 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 re
gulate the occasional variation in the specific form of animals ;
much less of the limits of that variation : for the accurate develope
ment 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 imperishable basis, when his own and all other artificial sys
tems of classification, for artificial we can see them to be even in
the present state of our knowledge, will probably have been over
turned by the force of those new views of nature, which must
necessarily result from the contemplation of the numerous and
varied phenomena which are rapidly accumulating in this depart
ment 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 develope
ment of individual and specific 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 explanation of his views which I shall now attempt
to offer, while it may tend to make known the particular merits of

168 EXERCISE OF THE
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 principle in the study of compa
rative 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 de
fined, that even a portion of a bone may often serve to verify the
species of the animal to which it belonged, (p. xiv.)
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 organisation ; and hence there is
an occasional impediment to the application of the principle : but the
variation never proceeds beyond certain limits ; and therefore no
more interferes, eventually, with the uniformity of the specific cha
racter of animals, than the periodical oscillations of the celestial
bodies counteract the general regularity of their motions.
We are now therefore to consider the nature of the disturbing
cause, if I may borrow that expression for a moment, which occa
sionally interferes with the uniformity of specific character. And,
with respect to specific forms, it may be remarked, that, although it
is to a certain extent true that all organised bodies have the power
of producing beings resembling themselves, yet circumstances of
temperature, and of quantity or quality of food, and other causes,
have usually some influence in the developement of the body of each
individual ; thereby producing some corresponding variation in the
form : and, consequently, the resemblance between the parent and
offspring is never perfect. But — and this is a fact of the highest
importance — there is no ground for believing that such variations
proceed beyond certain limits ; no ground therefore for believing
that any of the above-mentioned circumstances could have produced
all the differences perceptible in organised bodies ; could have ad
vanced for instance, by a gradual alteration of structure, a lower to
a higher species. Experience, on the contrary, founded on an ex
amination of the records of remote antiquity, seems to show that the
limits of variation were ever the same that they are now. It appears
for instance from the mummies of Egypt,* that the general form,
and size, and proportions were the same three thousand years since,
that they are at present ; as well in various other animals as in
* Vid. Cuvier, Oss. Foss. i. Disc. Prelim, p. 75, 80.

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 169
man ; and in all physiological probability therefore were the same
three thousand years before that period : so that we cannot refuse
to admit, that certain forms have, without exceeding the limits above
described, been perpetuated from the creation.
From various circumstances, however, as has been already stated,
the offspring never exactly resembles the parent ; and by the exten
sion of those causes which occasion a difference of character, the
variation 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 grayhound with the turnspit; or the Newfoundland
dog with the Blenheim spaniel : and yet, even in such instances,
which perhaps may be considered1 as comprising the extreme limits
of variation, 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 observer, to define those characters by
which the specific resemblance is recognised upon a transient view of
the animal. Yet, although not obvious on a superficial examination,
nature has not left this point undefinable : for, in almost every in
stance, the form and number of the bones are so accurately pre
served, that, however the colour, or the size and the general form
of the body may be altered, we have satisfactory criteria of the
species in the points just mentioned. 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 principally consti
tute the highest class of the animal kingdom, 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 are entirely wanting throughout
the whole class of birds, and often in reptiles and in fish.
In investigating the remote causes of specific variation, we find
that domestication is the most general and extensive ; and that the
effects are produced principally by the joint operation of the follow
ing means, namejy, diet, general regimen, and the due selection of
individuals for the purpose of breeding.*
* Burckhardt observes, in his notes on the Bedouins, p. Ill, and 139, that in
barren parts of the desert of Arabia, or in seasons of scarcity, camels and sheep do
not multiply so extensively as in fertile plains and seasons. A similar observation
would probably hold good with respect to the ratio of increase among the Tchutzki
and other tribes of north-eastern Russia, and the inhabitants of New Holland or any
other part of the world where the supply of food is scanty.
See, on this subject, a letter, published by Sir John Sebright in 1809, on the art
of improving the breeds of domestic animals. 15

170 EXERCISE OF THE
While animals exist in a state of nature, it does not appear that
the circumstances in which they are placed give rise to much varia
tion, even in their external and fugitive characters. A uniformity
of size and colour is usually observable in the several individuals of
the same species ; as in the instances of the wild cat and rabbit. Nor
is the character liable to be changed by intercourse among indivi
duals of different species. Although, for instance, the hare and rabbit
are so nearly allied in form and size and colour, we never meet with
a hybrid or mule of those species.
In domesticated species a variation first in colour, and then in
size, usually takes place, to an extent proportional to the degree of
domestication. Cats, which are less subjugated to man than horses
or dogs, vary little more than in colour; scarcely at all in size.
And in horses, on the same principle, there is a less degree of varia
tion than in dogs. In the dog, which is of all species the most do
mesticated, the variation extends to the production of an additional
toe, and corresponding metatarsal bone in the hind foot.* And in
the human species, in the individuals of which, from their varied
intercourse and modes of living, the limits of variation may ante
cedently 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 to the basis of a physiological argument with refer
ence to the identity of the human species throughout the world. For,
inasmuch as all the variations in colour, form, and size, of the dif-
fere»t nations of mankind, come within the acknowledged limits of
specific 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
position indeed, of which the human species is a particular 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 accu
rate, as to leave no doubt of the identity of those described by Aristotle
with those to which the description is applicable at the present dav.f
* Ann. du Mus. tom. xviii. p. 342. pi. 19.
f It can hardly escape observation, or fail to excite surprise, that in the work
now under consideration, Aristotle usually contents himself whh 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 become too
numerous. (To) fiiy ffoMa i<J di appiy t; ayax.awrtu<rt, ra S'foroxxvraj si> t$ vypp otra. {' ay art-
Kceo-it us rov; romvs s« ouc inriKlouiri, ravra. aa^iraf a yap irayra io-u£iro, ?ra.fiirM-
6eff ay ro ysyo; tiv tx.ao-rwv. p. 169.)
On another occasion he observes, that though the spring is the general season for

INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 171
Section IV.
On those Animal Forms called Monsters, or Lusus Natura.
The subject of the present section is naturally connected 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 formatiqn of monsters, or lusus naturae, as they are often
called, especially as they have been lately illustrated by that ardent
French physiologist Geoffroy St. Hilaire ; it will not be perhaps con
sidered impertinent to make a few observations 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 objection to this term, being, as it now is,
familiarized by long continued use. But as we have no ground for
supposing that nature, or, to use the more proper expression, that
the providence of the Creator ever acts without some wise and bene
ficial purpose, we must consider the term in a philosophical point 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 Providence 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 centaur. And Lucretius's scepticism in this point
is justified on truly philosophical principles ; on the difference 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 a horse being decrepit in his twenty-fifth or thirtieth
year, when man is in his full vigour.*
propagation, yet occasionally the rule is set aside ; where, for instance, the preser
vation of the offspring is the result.
(Opfjtiri».Zrara fjiy ouv a>e fiw/ ro nay wrrw np^o ruv o%itay thv ripivtiv Zpa-v trriv* ou
/uxv ra Trayra yti 7rottirat rov aurov Katpov r»t o%tiac, awa. irpoo ruv wrpoquy ray rtnvav
ey rote ko.Qmuuo'i naipotc. p. 181 ) i
* Sed neque Centauri fuerunt, rjeque tempore in ullo
Esse queat duplici natura, etcorbore bino
Ex alienigenis membris corhpacla potestas—
t'rincipio, circum tribus actis impiger annis
Floret equus, puer haudquaquam, &c.  Lib. V. 876 — 889.

172 INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES.
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, agreement with re
spect to number be the criterion, the limits are for the most part
fixed. Thus the human hand se very generally consists of five fingers,
that an instance of an individual having more or less than five fin
gers would be justly esteemed an instance of a lusus naturae. But
' even number is not always an acknowledged criterion ; for, with
respect to the teeth, though thirty -two is the usual number in the hu
man subject, yet the instances of persons having only twenty-eight
are so frequent, that we can scarcely class them as deviations from
the common law.
But if size, or colour, or form be made the criterion, we evidently
cannot then fix the limits ; for in all these points there is an endless
variety in individuals 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, nay even out of all that have existed since the crea
tion, no two individuals would be found to resemble each other ex
actly, in even any one of those points. And in this wonderful diver
sity 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 simi
larity 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 re
spect to many the position is determinable with considerable preci
sion, yet with respect to others, the smaller veins and arteries, 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 position 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 con
siderable extent without inconvenience to the individual, is found to
be continually varying.
Now as this law of deviation from the usual structure does not
seem at all to depend on the construction of the parts themselves ; and
as the result is necessarily 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 : for, if chance could be admis
sible as the cause, why should one class of phenomena be so much
more frequent than the other? And with 'equal or still greater force
we may apply the argument to the existence of those productions
emphatically called monsters. Probably then, or rather assuredly,
these anomalous productions may, in addition to other ends, be con-

CONCLUSION. 173

sidered as proofs of a particular or constantly superintending Provi
dence ; and, like the storms which occasionally ravage the surface
of the earth, may awfully recall to our minds the power of the Deity,
while they at the same time convince us, by the rarity of their occur
rence, of the merciful beneficence of his nature.

CHAPTER XI.
CONCLUSION.
It has been the immediate object of the preceding treatise to
demonstrate the adaptation of the external world to the physical
condition of man : and, either in considering him merely as an in
dividual, or as a component member of any stage of society, it may
be freely admitted that every step in the investigation has tended to
confirm this general conclusion, that — whether from chance, (if any
philosophical mind acknowledge the existence of such an agent
as chance,) or from deliberate design — a mutual harmony does
really exist between the corporeal powers and intellectual faculties
of man, and the properties of the various forms of matter which
surround him; the material constituents of all nature being as
evidently adapted to the supply of the wants of his body, as the
contemplation of their causes and relations to the exercise of his
mind. We have seen that from the surrounding atmosphere he is con
stantly supplied with that respirable 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, wateAand heat and light, which are equally though not so
immediately necessary, as air, to the wants of man. We have seen
again, that the mineral kingdom, though it does not directly contri
bute 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 important in pro
moting many of the arts of civilized society. And, lastly, that the
advantages derivable from the vegetable and animal kingdoms are,
eventuallv, neither of less extent and importance, nor their adapta
tion to the physical condition of man less obvious, than those of the
mineral and atmospherical.
It would have been easy to demonstrate that an equally obvious
15*

174 CONCLUSION.
but infinitely more important harmony 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 that harmony 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 re
lations of man are inevitably soon cut short by death : and though,
in many instances, societies continue to be benefited through suc
cessive 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 individuals, but of nations also, entirely
perishes ; and all things apparently proceed, as if those individuals
and nations had never existed.
Shall we then, in concluding this treatise, simply admit the exist
ence 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 provided
for the physical wants of man, and for the developement of his in
tellectual faculties 1 That indeed would have been incumbent on us
under any circumstances; and without any qualification arising
from the partial occurrence either of disease, or famine, 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 faculties ; to
have exhibited the bare fact of that adaptation, without some refer
ence to its final cause, would have been to leave the whole argu
ment 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 ex
ternal world which surrounds us ; and will coincide with the pre
vailing 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
reciprocally on each other, that in a comprehensive view of the rela
tion 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 tree faUeth, there it shall be"— that " it is ap
pointed unto men once to die ; but after this, the judgment."

CONCLUSION. 175
Have we then, to refer first to our animal wants and desires, have <
we indulged without restraint in the. pleasures of sense ; shrinking \
from every breath of heaven, unless previously tempered with luxu- '
rious warmth, and impregnated with the perfumes of the east 1 \
Have we weakened our intellectual faculties, and brutalized our
moral feelings, by habitual inebriation ; abusing that gift of Heaven,
which was intended as a restorative of exhausted nature? Instead
of simply satisfying the calls of hunger by plain and moderate diet,
have we provoked and pampered the appetite by all the luxuries
which the animal and vegetable kingdoms can supply, till at length |
all appetite has been destroyed ; pain and disease have been in- i
duced ; the human form and feature have been lost under a mass of
loathsomeness and corruption ; and death, long wished for, yet
dreaded, has arrived at last? we shall awake hereafter in another
world, but in unaltered misery; without the hope of any second
offer of release from the impurity and everlasting punishment of sin.
Or, to refer to the intellectual part of our nature, in contemplating
for instance the starry firmament, and in calculating the unerring
motions of the heavenly bodies, have we been content to charac
terise the certainty and regularity of those motions as the result of
necessity, or of the laws of an undefined agent called nature? And
in thus failing to acknowledge explicitly the Author of those laws,
though not indeed formally denying his existence, have we, like the
nations of old, worshipped the creature, rather than the Creator ;
and bowed down our knee, as it were, to the host of heaven ? — we
may in that case hereafter suffer the penalty of our intellectual
pride, in a mode severely just. The mind, which in this life failed
to exercise its highest functions by adoring the Deity in the con
templation of his works, may be forbidden to extend the exercise of
those functions in the next ; and, while it looks back with unuttera
ble torment to the forfeited pleasures of its former state, may be
condemned, with torment infinitely increased, to expatiate eternally
through new fields of knowledge, without the capability of even
putting the sickle to the boundless harvest which they present.
But if, happily, we have pursued a wiser course ; if, with Newton,
we have delighted to deduce from the contemplation of the me
chanism of the heavenly bodies the power of Him who made them,
and who alone sustains and directs their motions ; we may, and
with faculties infinitely expanded, cultivate with him the same pure
pleasures, which even on earth abstracted his desires from earthly
wants ; and, enraptured with the harmonious movements of those
endless systems, which neither our present organs can see, nor our
present faculties apprehend, we may continue to be constantly ac
quiring new knowledge, constantly absorbed in new wonder and
adoration of that Power, from whom, both in this world, and in
that which is to come, all knowledge, and every other good and
perfect gift are alone derived.

APPENDIX

Having considered in the preceding pages the general opinions of
Aristotle respecting the physiology and classification of animals, I pro
pose in this Appendix to make a selection from his descriptions of some
natural groups and individual species of animals, for the purpose of com-
¦paring them with the corresponding descriptions of Cuvier ; confining
myself, however, exclusively to the mammalia, 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 ani
mals ; presenting the whole in the form of two parallel columns, as the
most convenient mode of exhibiting the comparison. In each column I
shall endeavour to give a free but faithful translation of the original pas
sages, followed by the original passages themselves.*
However extensive may have been the information of the ancients in
that department of natural science which is now under consideration ;
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 effecting a natural
classification of animals, it could not reasonably be expected that, ante
cedently to the knowledge of the circulation of the blood, and of the true
character of respiration, and also of the physiology of the absorbent and
nervous systems, a natural classification could have been accomplished
on principles so satisfactory as at the present day. And those indivi
duals pay a very absurd homage 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 extraordinary
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 moderns,
it has not been my intention to prove that the classification of the one is
built upon equally clear and extensive demonstrations as that of the
other ; but to show, as in harmony with the general object of this trea
tise, that, even in the very dawn of science, there is frequently sufficient
* 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.

ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED. 177
light to guide the mind to at least an approximation to the truth — to a
much nearer approximation, indeed, than could have been antecedently
expected by those who are not accustomed to reflect philosophically on
the uniformity of the laws of nature. Thus, as has been already men
tioned, the advancement of science has shown the existence of such a
general coincidence and harmony of relation between the several com
ponent parts of an individual animal-, that even a partial acquaintance
with the details of its structure will frequently enable the inquirer to
ascertain its true place in the scale of organization. And hence, al
though 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 subsequent discoveries have scarcely
disturbed the order of his arrangement. He placed the ivhale, for in
stance, in the same natural division with common quadrupeds, because
he saw that like them it is viviparous, and suckles its young, and re
spires 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 nervous system, being essentially the same as in that class of ani
mals. 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 re
markable exception of the sloth, all viviparous quadrupeds have exactly
seven cervical vertebrae, and so has the whale ; whereas fish, to the ge
neral form of which the whale closely approximates, having no neck,
have no cervical vertebra : and the deficiency of the neck in fish was.
recognised by Aristotle.*

GENERAL PHYSIOLOGY.
Aristotle. Cuvier, tom. I.
In some animals there is a mu- Every organized body has its
tual resemblance in all their parts ; peculiar form : not only generally
as the eye of any one man resem- and exteriorly, but even in the de
nies the eye of every other man : tail of the structure of each of its
and it is the same with respect to parts ; and all the individuals which
the constituent parts of horses, or agree in the detail of their struc-
of any other animals, which are ture are of the same species.
said to be of the same species : for
in individuals of the same species,
each part resembles its correspon
dent part as much as the whole
resembles the whole.
"Eysi °"s 7°v ^V"v *v,a r15" tf<*v7a 7a Chaque corps organise a une
(Aopia 7au7a dXXyXoig, evia 8' elepa. 7au- forme propre, non-seulement en ge-
* AJ^if* S' Milt iX" ',fc6<'?. P- 40-

178

A.PPENDIX.

Aristotle.
la Se la fASv e'lSei luv (Aopiwv eo*7ivj oiov
dvApuitov gig xai o<p()aXjjt.og avfywirou |ivi
xai o'<p^aX(A(j, xai dapxl tfapf xai odlu
odlovv Tov avlbv Ss 7poirov xai IWou xai
7wv dXXuv %uuv} oda 7cji e'lSei 7ai37a Xs-
yojASv lau7oi"s- o/xoiuj yap udtiSp 7o oXov
eyei ifpoj 7o oXov, xai luv popiuv eyei
exadlov tfpbg exadlov. p. 1.
All animals have certain common
organs, by means of some of which
they lay hold of, and into others of
which they convey their food. The
organ by which they lay hold of
their food is called the mouth ; that,
into which they convey it, the sto
mach : but the other parts are called
by various names. The form and
relative proportions, structure, and
position of these parts, are the same
in the same species, but vary in dif
ferent species of animals.
IIav7uv 8' idli luv %uuv xoiva popia,
ill Siyslai lyv Ipoyyv xal elg o Skyelai'
— KaXeiVai 5' % jjoev Xafi/3av£i, dlb\t.a,
eig o Se Si/elai} xoiXia' lb 8s Xoitov tfo-
Xuuvu(Ji6v Jtf7iv. — Taula <5' sdli 7au7a
xai elepa xa7a 7ouj eipr\\t,svovg Ipitfovs, ^
xaT eiSog r\ xad' virepo^riv ij xaT «vaXo-
yiav f) ly Mdei Siacpepovla. p. 6.
In addition to the mouth and sto
mach, most animals have other com
mon parts by which they exclude
the refuse of their food: but in some
animals these parts are wanting.
Ms7a 8e 7au7a aXXa xoiva popta eye\
la rtyeidla luv £uue itpbg 7ou7oiff, ¦/) a<pi-
ydt lb ifepillu^a 7% Ipotprjg — ou yap ira-
rfiv vitdpysi 7ou7o. p. 6.
There are fibres of a peculiar
kind in the blood : by the removal
of which that fluid is prevented from
coagulating : but if they are not
removed, it does coagulate. And
through defect of these fibres the
blood of the deer and of some other
animals does not coagulate.

Cuvier, tom. I.
neral et a 1'exterieur, mais jusque
dans le detail de la structure de
chacune de ses parties, p. 16, et tous
les etres appartenans a l'une de ces
formes constituent ce que l'on ap-
pelle une espece. P. 19.

The leading character of animals
is derived from the existence of a
reservoir for their food, that is, an
intestinal canal, the organization of
which varies according to circum
stances.

De la (le reservoir d'alimens) de
rive le premier caractere des ani-
maux, ou leur cavite intestinale.
L' organisation de cette cavite et de
ses appartenances a du varier selon
la nature des alimens. P. 21, 22.

The lowest animals have no other
outlet for the refuse of their food,
than that by which they admit the
food itself.
II n'y a que les dernlers des ani-
maux ou les excremens ressortent
par la bouche, et dont I'intestin ait
la forme d'uh sac sans issue. P. 41.

The blood contains a principle
calledyjfinne; which, within a short
time after the blood has been with
drawn from the body, manifests
itself in the form of membranes or
filaments.

ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED.

179

Aristotle.
'"'Edit Se xai aXXo ysvog tvuv, o yive-
7ai fi.sv Iv ai'u,a7i- — Zv Ogaipovpsvuv ex
7ou ai'fi,a7os ou *i)yvu7ai 7o aijjia, eav Se
P$ e%aipe6udi, iryyvvlai. p. 64. 'Ev (isv
ouv lu iCJv qrXeidluv ai'(/;a7i ^uuv eveidiv.
ev Se 7cJ) 75jj JXaipou xai ifpoxbg xal /3ou-
paXiSog xai dXXuv livuv ovx eveidiv Tveg-
oio xai ou rfrjyvvlai avluv lb aiu,a ojaoiuj
loTg aXXotg, dXXa lb f/,£v 7uv iXdyobv
*apa<KXr\d'iug 7al 7wv SadwsbSuv* p. 65.
The particular senses are five in
number, sight, hearing, smell, taste,
and touch. Of these the sense of
touch is alone common to all ani
mals ; and is so generally diffused
over the whole body, that it is not
said to reside in any specific part.
All animals do not possess all the
senses; some possess only a part of
them. But no animal is without
the fifth sense, that of touch.
EiW 5' ai (aid^deig) irXeTdlai, xai
¦tup' ag ovSepia (paivslai 'IStog elepa,
•Ksvls 7ov dpidpov, oJ^is, axoi}, odtppr)dtg,
yevdig, a<jj?j. p. 100. ITaVi Se 70% %uoii
a'iditjdig (i,ia vrtdpysi xoivy\ /novi) i] duorj,
udle xai iv Z au7rj [Lopiu yived&ai its-
(fvxsv, dviivvpov idliv. p. 7. Ou yap
opoiug <Kadiv vttapyovdiv (aitf^S'Eij,)
aXXa 70% fjusv tfatfai loig 8' sXa77ouff.
p. 100. Trjv 8e ifiiWlriv a'ld&ridiv 7i]V
oWpijv xaXou(/.£V*iv — *avV eysi Xjfyi. p.
101.

Cuvier, tom. I.

(Le fluide nourricier, ou le sang)
— contient la fibrine et la gelatine
presque toutes disposees a se con
tractor et a prendre les formes de
membranes ou de filamens qui leur
sont propres, du moins suffit-il d'un
peu de repos pour qu'elles s'y ma
nifested. P. 27.

The most general external sense
is that of touch; its seat is the sur
face of the whole body. Many ani
mals are without the sense of hear
ing, and of smell, and of sight.
Some have none of the senses ex
cept that of touch, which is never
wanting.

Le sens exterieur le plus general
est le toucher; son siege est a la
peau, membrane enveloppant le
corps entier. P. 36. Beaucoup
d'animaux manquent d'oreilles et
denarines; plusieurs d'yeux; il y
en a qui sont reduits au toucher, le'-
quel ne manque jamais. P. 37.

All animals which draw in and
breathe out the air have lungs.
Those animals which employ wa
ter, analogously to air, in respira
tion, have gills.

When the element subservient to
me process of respiration is the air,
the organ of respiration is the
lungs: when water, the gills.

* 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 animals, prevent the blood from coagulating. Two of the species here
mentioned by Aristotle (irpo% and Sztriaovs or xayaos) are mentioned by Homer as
commonly hunted : — a,yiyto-»ov v'101 avSgts
Alya,s in' ayporig*.;, iHi Tr^onae, iiSl \ayuous. Odtss. p. 295.

180

APPENDIX.

Aristotle.
"OXug Se rtdvla oda 7ov dip a Se^o-
(iEva dvairvsr xaiv ixi(vsT} itdvT 'iysi itvev-
(tova. p. 43. Ta fxsv ouv dvaXoyov 7ij
dvatfvo?) ¦/jiufueva 7y iypCj ftpdyyia
%-/ei. p. 215.
Animals in general appear to
have a certain degree of intellec
tual power, and some are capable
of instruction. Some animals are
cautious ; some are cunning. Man
alone is capable of meditation and
reflection. Many animals possess
memory : no animal but man is
capable of recollection.

$aivov7ai yap (la £oja) s'xpvld 7iva
Svvaft.iv — tfepi le cppovridiv xai sirjUdiav —
svia Ss xoivwvsi- 7ivoj a.(jia xai ^.a^dsug
taxi SiSadxaXiai. p. 251. Ta (aev <ppb-
vifia — 7a 8' itfifiovXa- — BouXsu7ixov Ss
ftovov av&putfbg idli luv ^uuv. xai fjui»j-
ft,r)g u,sv xa SiSafflg ifoXXa xoivuviT,
dvajMixvijdxedb'ai Se ovSev aXXo Sivalai
irXriv avbpuitog. p. 6.

In the great number of animals
there are traces of the moral affec
tions of man ; for some are mild
and some are fierce. And the
same thing may be very readily
discerned in children, for in them
we may perceive the germs o1.' their
future habits ; and indeed the dis
positions of human beings at that
early period of life do not differ
from those of the inferior animals.
"Kvedli yap iv lotg *Xsirf7oig xai' 7uv
aXXwv %uuv 'iyyy\ luv rtepi 7igv -\*vyrpi
Ipbituv, dttsp in! luv dvbpufuv g^si ipa-
vepulspag lag Siayopdg. p. 212. Ta

Cuvier, tom. I.
Quand cet element est de l'air, la
surface est creuse, et se nomme
poumon; quand c'est de l'eau, elle
est saillante, et s'appelle branchie.
P. 43.
Even the most perfect animals
are infinitely inferior to man in the
intellectual faculties ; although it is
certain that their intelligence per
forms similar operations to those of
the human mind : and they are ca
pable of instruction. Man has the
faculty of associating his general
ideas with particular images of a
more or less arbitrary character,
but easily imprinted in his memory,
which serve to recall to him the ge
neral ideas which they represent.
Les animaux les plusparfaits sont
infiniment au-dessous de 1'homme
pour les facultes intellectuelles, et il
est cependant certain que leur in
telligence execute des operations du
meme genre — ils acquierent par
l'experience une certaine connais-
sance des choses. P. 51,52. L'hom-
me a la faculte d'associer ses idees
generates a des images particulieres
et plus ou moins arbitraires, aisees
a graver dans la memoire, et qui
lui servent a rappeler les idees ge
nerales qu'elles represented. P. 50.

Animals are susceptible of emu
lation, and jealousy, &c. In short,
we may observe in the higher ani
mals a certain degree of the reason
ing faculty, which appears nearly
the same with that of infants before
they have acquired the power of
speech.

Ils sont susceptibles d'emulation
et de jalousie — en un mot, on aper-
coit dans les animaux superieurs
un certain degre de raisonnement

ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED.

181

Aristotle.
fxev yap idli tpaa — 7a Se fo^uSy. p. 6.
$avepulalov S' 'idli li 7oiou7ov iifi lyv
7wv rtaiSuy rjXixiav fiXs^adiv ^v7ou7oig
yap luv fi,£v vdlepov sgsuv ido^evuv edliv
iSeiv oiov iyyi\ xal difsp^ala, Siapepei S'
ovdev iii el-teh fy ¦^X'l ^ ^uv ^piuv
¦\svyrig xala 7ov y^pbvov 7ou7ov. p. 212.

As man- possesses contrivance,
and wisdom, and comprehension ;
so some animals possess a certain
natural power, which, though not
the same as, in some respects re
sembles, those faculties.
'Clg yap iv dvtlpuiru lsyyr\ xal dotpia
xai dvvedig, ovlug sviois 7uv ^uuv 'idli 7iff
slipa laiaulr) yvdixr) SJvafug. p. 212.

All animals which have red blood
have a spine or backbone : but the
other parts of the bony system are
wanting in some species, and pre
sent in others. Tbe spine is the
base or origin of the bony system :
it is composed of vertebrae, which
are all perforated ; and extends
from the head to the hips : and the
cranium is a continuation of its
upper or anterior extremity.

IloWa Se rd %$a oda evoufta. idnv,
svsi fdyiv — Tot 8' aXXa (wpia ruv oo'-
tgjv Iviois fw'v sWiv, ivioig S\ ovx 'idnv.
p. 66, 'Apxn Si i) fax's" edr'y iy vidi
Tors lyoufl'iv dtfra. djyxsirai 5' ^ fayiff
Ix dcpovSuXuv, rsivei 8' a*b tjj? xecpaXy)i
asvpi tfpbg rd Idyia. oi (*.sv ouv dcpovSv
Xoi tfavrsj rerpejxivoi eidlv, dvu Si rb
t% xs<paX5js orfrouv dvvsy_is sdri rog sd-
yarois tf<pov<5yXois, o xaXEFrai xpavi'ov.
p. 65.

Cuvier, tom. I.
avec tous ses effets bons et mau-
vais, et qui parait etre a peu pres
le meme que celui des enfans lors-
qu'ils n'ont pas encore appris a par-
ler. P. 52.

In a great number of animals
there exists a faculty, different
from intelligence, which is called
instinct.

II existe dans un grand nombre
d'animaux une faculte differente
de Intelligence ; c'est celle qu'on
nomme instinct, p. 53.

The first general division of ani
mals includes all those which have
a spine or backbone consisting 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 com
posed of vertebrae, having each an
annular perforation, and moveable
upon each other, commences at its
upper or anterior extremity from
the head; the lower or posterior
extremity usually terminating in a
tail. Dans la premie-re de ces formes
[generates,] qui est celle de 1'homme
et des animaux qui lui ressemblent
te plus, te cerveau, &c. sont renfer-
mes dans une enveloppe osseuse,
qui se compose du crane et des
verlebres. p. 57. Nous appellerons
les animaux de cette forme les ani
maux vertebres. p. 58. Leur sang
est toujours rouge, p. 63. Leur
corps se compose toujours de la
tete, du trone et des membres.
L'epine est composee de vertebres

16

182

APPENDIX.

Aristotle.

Cuvier, tom. I.
mobiles les unes sur les autres,
dont la premiere porte la tete, et
qui ont toutes une partie annulaire.
p. 62, 63. Le plus souvent l'epine
se prolonge en une queue, p. 63.

Red-blooded animals when in
their perfect state have either no
extremities, or they have one or
two pair. Those animals which
have more than two pair are not
red-blooded. In some animals the correspond
ing limbs are different in form, but
analogous in use. Thus the ante
rior extremities of birds are neither
hands nor feet, but wings. Fish
have no limbs, but appendages,
called fins, commonly four in num
ber, sometimes two.
Td u.6v evaifjia rvyyavsi ovra< — orfa
•ij avoSa idri reXea ovra (aVouv Si cpvdet
idrlv I'vaifjwv tfs^ov <ro ruv oqtsuv yivog,
p. 10.) '/) SiitoSa r) rsrpdiroSa. rd 8'
dvai\ha — tfdv#' oda irXs'ious rfoSag sysi
rerrdpuv. p. 7. "Evia Si ruv %uuv ours
e'iSei rd fiopia <rauVd sye'i o'vre xaS uirep-
oyypi xal IXXsi^/iv, dXXd xar' dvaXo-
yiav. p. 2. Xsipaj S' ovSi tfbSag tfpod-
diouS' s'x-' ("i opvidsg,) dXXd tiripvyag
'tSiov itpbg rd aXXa £dja. p. 38. Au-
jflva S' ovSslg 'iysi i'x^us, ou<5e xcoXov ou-
6sv — Miov 8' eyovdi — rd ntrspvyia, oi
\t,ev <xXsidroi rsWapa, oi Ss ifpojJ.ijXSiS
Svo. p. 40.

The red-blooded animals are
man, viviparous and oviparous
quadrupeds, birds, fish, cetaceous
animals, and snakes, &c.

"EffVi 8s ravra (£tjia fvouj*a) avdpw-
•xdg rs xai rd ^.cjoToxa ruv rsrpaitoSuv,
in Si xal rd ijWoxa tojv rsrpaitoSuv
xai opvig xai }yjbvs xai xr)rog xai — o<pij.
p. 42, 43.

Their extremities never exceed
two pair in number : sometimes one
pair is wanting, sometimes both.

The form of the extremities va
ries according to the uses to which
they are to be applied; the anterior
extremities being hands, or feet, or
wings, or fins; the posterior, feet
or fins.

H n'y a jamais plus de deux paires
de membres ; mais elles manquent
quelquefois l'une ou l'autre, ou
toutes les deux, et prennent des
formes relatives aux mouvemens
qu'elles doivent executer. Les
membres anterieurs peuvent etre
faits en mains, en pieds, en ailes
ou en nageoires ; les posterieurs,
en pieds ou en nageoires. p. 63.

The division of vertebrated ani
mals includes man, the mammalia
consisting of viviparous quadru
peds and the cetacea, birds, reptiles
of all kinds, many of which, though
oviparous, are quadrupeds, and
fish. Subdivision des animaux verte
bres. L'homme — les singes, &c. —
les cetaces — les oiseaux — tortues
— serpens — poissons. Tom. i. 67.
— ii. 351.

ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED.

183

Aristotle.
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.*
Tovru 5ia<psp£i to fj-iyidra yivt\ tfpbg
Ta Xoi#d ruv dXXuv %uuv, tcj rd jttsV
Italia rd 8' avai(/,a Eivai. p. 42. Ildv-
ra 8i rd dvaijxa iydrru rd psyidr] idri
TOv ivaipuv %uuv #X->jv oXiya iv rr\
SaXdrrj] f^Ei'^ova avaip,d idnv, oiov tgov
fiaXaxi'wv s'via. p. 9.

All red-blooded animals have the
five senses.

"AvQpuitog (i,sv ouv— xai oda 1'vaifi.a
xa; ^cjoroxa, tfdvTO ipaivsrai eyovra
ravrag itddag (a!d6r)deig.) p. 100.

Cuvier, tom. I.

Vertebrated animals, all of which
have red blood, attain to a much
larger size than those whose blood
is colourless.

C'est^ parmi eux (les animaux
vertebres) que se trouvent les plus
grands des animaux. p. 62. Le
sang est toujours rouge, p. 63.

Vertebrated animals have always
two eyes, two ears, two nostrils,
the integuments of the tongue and
those of the whole body.
Les sens exterieurs sont toujours
deux yeux, deux oreilles, deux na-
rines, les tegumens de la langue, et
ceux de la totalite du corps, p. 64.

MAMMALIA.

No animal which is not vivipa
rous has breasts : and even of vivi
parous animals those only have
them which produce their young
alive at once, without the interven
tion of an egg.
The milk is not, as the blood is,
a fluid which animals possess from
their birth, but a subsequent secre
tion ; and is contained in the breasts.
And all those animals have breasts
which are essentially or directly vi
viparous ; as man, and such quad
rupeds as are covered with hair;
and also cetaceous animals, as the
dolphin, the seal, and the whale.
OuOev tgjv jx,ri ^uoroxovvruv (e^ei jt,ad-
rovg,) ovSi rd ^wotoxouvto iravra dXX'
orfa evdvg iv avroii "Cuoroxei xai jm)

The animals of the class mam
malia are essentially viviparous ;
inasmuch as a direct communica
tion is established between the em
bryo and the parent immediately
after conception.
The new-born offspring is nou
rished for a time by milk, which is
a special and temporary secretion
from the- mammae ; organs, so ex
clusively peculiar to this class, as
to have determined the distinctive
appellation mammalia. This class
includes all the common viviparous
quadrupeds; together with the seal,
and the dolphin, and other cetacea.
La generation dans tous les
mammiferes est essentieltement vi-
vipare ; c'est-a-dire que le foetus,

* See a curious engraving in Montfort, Hist. Nat. des Mollusques, tom. ii. p. 256,
epr esenting a gigantic sepia grasping a ship and its rigging.

184

APPENDIX.

Aristotle.
wotoxe? ifpurov. p. 40. T&v Si oipsuv 6
(liv eyig ^woToxsr sgw, ev auTco tfpoJTov
tioroxridag. p. 151. Aifia (iypov difx-
(puTov eWi roTg ^uois- idrepbysvsg Ss xal
afoxpijxivov 'difadiv, 6Vav Ivrj, svedn, rb
ydXa1 — e^ei 8e, oda eysi rb ydXa, sv
roTg padroTg. u.aff'Toijj 5' s^si oda £<soo-
roxsi xai iv avro'ig xai s%u, oiov orta te
Tprya£ sysi, udifsp dv&putog xa! 'iiritog,
xai ra, xVl, oiov SeXtpig xa! <puxrj xai
(paXaiva- xa! ydp TaDVa padrovg 'iyei
xai ydXa. p. 77.

Cuvier, tom. I.
immediatement apres la conception,
descend dans la matrice, enferme
dans ses enveloppes — qui etablis-
sent entre lui et sa mere line com
munication, d'ou il tire sa nourri-
ture. p. 75, 76.
Les petits se nourissent pendant
quelque temps, apres leur nais
sance, d'une liqueur particuliere a
cette classe (le lait,) laquelle est
produite par les mammelles — qui
ont valu a cette classe son nom de
mamiferes, attendu que lui etant
exclusivement propres, elles la dis-
tinguent mieux qu'aucun autre ca-
ractere exterieur. p. 76. De la
classe des mammiferes sont l'hom-
me — --les singes — le cheval — les
phoques — le dauphin — les baleines,
&c. p. 79—284.

MAN.

All animals which have limbs re
sembling those of man, have their
tegs and thighs and hips sparingly
covered with flesh ; whereas in
man these parts are more fleshy
than any other.

Of all animals man has, in pro
portion 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 ele
phant, like the human female, has
two breasts, but they are placed on
the side.
No animal but man has the fa
culty of articulate speech ; which
consists of vowels pronounced by
means of the larynx, and of conso
nants formed by the .tongue and

The muscles which extend the
foot and thigh of man are more
powerful than those of any other
animal : and hence the calf of the
leg is particularly prominent. The
part called the pelvis, situate be
tween the hips, is altogether pro
portionally larger, in man than in
any other animal.
No quadruped has so large a
brain as man. His eyes are so
placed as to be necessarily directed
only forwards. In the delicacy of
the sense of taste and touch man
excels all other animals.
The female breasts are placed in
front of the chest.

He possesses an advantage pe
culiar to himself in tbe organs of
voice ; for he alone is capable of ut
tering articulate sounds ; a power
which apparently depends on the

ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED.

185

Aristotle.
lips: the dolphin, therefore, which
has a voice in consequence of its
possessing lungs, and a larynx,
cannot articulate, because its tongue
is not readily moveable, and it has
no lips.
IldvTa 8i Ta rerpdifoSa bdruSr\ ra
dxiXr) Eysi — xal ddapxa — sdri Ss xal
dvidyia  o Si av&puitog rovvavr'iov dap-
xu8r\ yap eyei dyeSbv p-aXtdra tou du-
fiaToff rd idyja xai rovg (Xigpoug- xai Tag
xvij^ag. p. 29.
"Eyei Se (iyxetpaXov) ditavra oda
I'jfEi aifiia — xaTa fi.iye6og <S' ofnoiuj eyei
avSpuifog itXeTdrov iyxitpaXov. p. 19.
Td 8' ofj.fMM'a iXayjdrov xard fj.iys6og
Siidrrjxsv dvUpurfu ruv %uuv. sysi 8'
dxpifiedrarriv avOpuifog rZv aldQijdeuv
t-jjv dipi^v, 5suTspav Ss rijv yevdiv. p.
18, 19.

MaaVouj <5' oux ey_si ov6ev iv ru ispbd-
6ev dXX' fj avSpwKog- 6 8' bXeyag eyei
fi,ev padrovg Svo, aXX' oux ev tco drrj&si
d^XXd ifpog ru drrfiei. p. 26.
Td <?s ^woToxa xai TSTpdiroi5a X,ua
aXXo aXXrjv d<pi'il0'i cpuvriv, 5idXsxTov 8'
ovSev eyei aXX' iiJiov tout' dv^puirou id-
riv. (p. 107.) (JidXsxTos 5' ?) rrjg <pwv5jj
idri rr\ yXurry Siapdpudig. rd pev ouv
(puvijevra '/) (puvr) xal 6 Xdpuyj; dy'nidiv,
rd 8' ouriuva i) yXurra xal rd X6'^-*!'
sg Zv -J) i5idX£xT0f sVtiv. p. 105. 'A<pi-
rjtfi Se xai 6 SsXcpig rpiypbv xai (w%si —
edri ydp rovru cpuvri — dXXd rr\v yXur-
rav oux drfoXsXufus'vriv (eyei) ovSe ^siX*]
udre apfyov ti rr\g (puvrg itoistv. p. 106.

Cuvier, tom. I.
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'etat d' extension sont plus vigou-
reux (que ceux d'aucun mammi-
f ere) ; d'ou resulte la saillie du mol-
let et de la fesse — le bassin est plus
large, p. 82.
Aucun quadrupede n'approche
de lui pour la grandeur et les replis
des hemispheres du cerveau. p. 84.
Ses deux yeux sont diriges en
avant ; il ne voit point de deux
cotes a la fois, comme beaucoup de
quadrupedes. La delicatesse de
l'odorat doit infiuer sur celle du
gout, et l'homme doit d'ailleurs
avoir de l'avantage, a cet egard,
au moins sur les animaux dont la
langue est revetue d'ecailles ; enfin,
la finesse de son toucher resulte,
et de celle de ses tegumens, &c.
p. 85.
Ses mammelles, au nombre de
deux seulement, sont situees sur la
poitrine. p. 88.
L'homme a une preeminence
particuliere dans les organes de sa
voix ; il peut seul articuler des
sons ; la forme de sa bouche et la
grande mobilite de ses levres en
sont probablement les causes, p.
86.

16*

186

APPENDIX.

APES, &c.

Aristotle.
The feet of apes are peculiar, and
resemble large hands, the toes be
ing like fingers, and the under sur
face of the hind foot like the palm
of the hand, but terminating in a
badly shaped heel. Hence they
often use their feet as bands. Their
arms resemble those of man, as
also their bands, and fingers, and
nails ; and they bend their extremi
ties in the same direction as man
does.* The upper part of their
body being larger than the lower
part, as is the case with decided
quadrupeds ; and their feet partak
ing of the character of hands; their
pelvis moreover, being small ; they
are from these joint causes incapa
ble of continuing long in an erect
position. Like man they have two mam
mae on the chest ; and their internal
anatomy resembles the human.

Some of the apes (iri^xoi) re
semble man in many points, as to
their face : for they have nostrils
and ears ; and both their front and
back teeth not much unlike those
of man.
Oi Se tfidijxoi — IS'iovg rovg ifbSag
(eyouff'i)' Eicfi ydp oiov ye^PBS P-eydXai,
xai 6) SdxrvXoi oidirep ol ruv ysipuv, o
ixidog i*,axp6rarogf xai rb xkru tou to-
Sbg ysipl 6'u.oiov, irXiiv sV/ to (x5;xoS to
tSj£ X5iP0^ **' T™' edyara. teivov, xadd-
*ep devap' touto 8e eV dxpou tfxXiipoVs-
pov, xaxug xai dpvSpug ^.i(/.ou(aevov irTE'p-
vriv. xiyjfpai 8e tois itodiv its' au.(pu, xai

Cuvier, tom. I.
The hind feet of the quadrumana
(to which order apes belong) have
a thumb capable of being opposed
to the other toes, which are as long
and as flexible as the fingers;
w hence they are capable of climb
ing well ; but they do not easily
walk or support themselves in an
erect position, because their pelvis
is narrow, and the plane of the un
der surface of their feet is not hori
zontal.

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 struc
ture of their fore-arms and hands
enables them to imitate us in many
of their gestures and actions.
The higher species of apes have
flat nails ; and teeth very much re
sembling the human both in num
ber and arrangement, and also in
form : and they have no tail.
Les quadrumanes different de
notre espece par le caractere tres-
sensible, que ses pieds de derriere
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 tou
tes les especes grimpent-elles aux
arbres avec facilite, tandis qu'elles

* The same is true of quadrupeds in general : in most of which, however, Aris
totle mistook the joint at the heel and wrist, for that of the knee and elbow.

ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED.

187

Aristotle.
ug xepdl xai ug irodl, xal dvyxditirrei
udirep xfyas- — "EXEI ^s xa' fipayjovag
udrtgp avdpuiTog, irXyv 8adsTg- xal xdfjwr-
tsi xal toutouS xai Ta dxiXv\ udirep dv-
6puirog — irpbg Si toutoij xeTpag xa> Sax-
rvXovg xai'Smyag ojxoiouS avltpuiru, irXr\v
¦jravra ravra iirl rb QypiuSidrspov. Td
5' dvu rov xaru iroXv (AEi'^ova gysi, ud
irep Td TSTpdiro<5a — xal Sid te TaDVa
xai <5id to tous irbSag e^eiv 6,aoious ^sptfi
— SiareXeT tov 'ttXeioj YpoVOV T£Tpdl7T0UV
o'v (naXXov rj opdov xai" out' . idyja eyei
ug rerpdirovv ov. p. 35, 36.
Td 8' ivrbg SiaipsMvra opioia E^outfiv
av^pojircj'ndvTaTdToiauTa. p. 36."Ej(Si
8' iv ru drijhi Suo drfXag fxadruv fiixpcDv.
p. 35.'

To Se iTpbduirov exei iToXXdg bjxoib-
T»)Taff ru tou dvOpuirou- xai ydp fiuxT?j-
pag xa) ura irapairX'/jdia e^ei, xai o5ov-
rag udirep b dvdpuirog, xal rovi irpod&iovg
xai rovg yofijCplovg. p. 35.

Cuvier, tom. I.
ne se tiennent et ne marchent de-
bout qu'avec peine, leur pied ne se
posant alors que sur le tranchant
exterieur, et leur bassin etroit ne
favorisant point l'equilibre. p. 100.

Elles ont toutes des intestins as-
sez semblables aux notres, les
yeux diriges en avant, les mam-
melles sur la poitrine. p. 100. La
liberie de leurs avant-bras et la
complication de leurs mains leur
permettent a toutes beaucoup d'ac-
tions et de gestes semblables a
ceux de l'homme. p. 101.
Les singes — ont a chaque ma-
choire quatre dents incisives droi-
tes, et a tous les doigts des ongles
plats ; deux caracteres qui les rap-
prochent de l'homme plus que les
genres suivans ; leurs molaires
n'ont aussi, comme les notres, que
des tubercules mousses, p. 101.

THE HEDGEHOG AND PORCUPINE.

Porcupines and land-echini, or
v hedgehogs, are covered with spines,
which are properly to be consider
ed 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.
Tpij^uiv yap n eiSog deriov xal rdg
dxav&uSsig rpixag, o'iag oi ;££p<faioi i'xov-
tfiv E^ivoi xai oi {ioVpi^Es* Tpi^fe ydp
Ypsi'av iraptyovdiv, dXX' ovtfoSuv, udirsp
o! ruv iaXarriuv. p. 10.

Hedgehogs have their body co
vered with quills instead of hair;
and so have porcupines.

Les herissons et les porcepics
ont te corps couvert de piquans au
lieu de poils. p. 132 et 208.

188

APPENDIX.

THE MOLE.

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 sup
posed to be without 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
have the organization of an eye,
without the possibility of being em
ployed 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 proba
bly be the animal which, according
to M. Olivier, gave the idea to the
ancients of describing the mote as
totally blind.t

Aristotle.
All viviparous animals have eyes,
except the mole ; and even this ani
mal, although it has neither the fa
culty of sight, nor eyes readily vi
sible, cannot be said to be altoge
ther without eyes ; for if its skin be
taken off, you may distinguish not
only the natural situation of the
eyes, but that black central part of
the eye itself in which the pupil is
contained ; 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 iri the centre of the black
part of the eye, and that black part
surrounded by the white.*
ZuoToxa irdvra (sx£l o'(pda.XjJWU5)'7rXi')v
adiraXaxog. rovrov Si rpbirov fxs'n tiv'
£%SIV «V fl'sirj TIS, '6Xug S, OUX E^SIV.
oXug jxiv ydp ova" bpbj out' eysi slg rb
(pavspbv SijXovg bcpAaX^oig- dcpaipsSsvrog
8s tou Sipjj.arog i'yet r-/]V rs Y_wpav T^v
cfi,jxdruv xa.l ruv bcp6aXjj.uv rd (XsXava
xard rbv rbirov xal T-Jjv %upav rrjv (pvdsi
roTg bcp6a.Xjt.oTg virdpxovdav iv ru ixrbg,
US ev ry\ ysvsdsi tfTipoufiivkiv xai' iiricpuo-
(J/e'vou tou Sipfxarog. p. 13. 'Atpaipe-
ievrog Ss tou Sipjt,arog ovtos iraxiog dirb
rrjg.xstpaXrig xard ri,v %upav ryv e%u
ruv o'fifj.aruv eduMv eio-iv oi btp6aXjx,ol
($iS(p()apu.Evoi, tfdvT' sxovrsg ravra rd
pepi) roTg dXrj^ivoi'f exovdi ydp to rs
It-sXav xa! rb svrbg tou uiXavoj rr;V xa-
Xou(/.e'v»)v xoprjv, xal rb xvxXuiriov. p.
100, 101.
* YLvH\Jvriov (p. 101.) is evidently synonymous with \tvni>. (p. 12.)
f 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.

Son ceil est si petit, et tellement
cache par le poil, qu'on en a nie
long-temps I'existence. p. 137. Le
rat-taupe aveugle — n'a meme point
du tout d'ceil visible au dehors :
mais quand on eleve sa peau, on
trouve un tres-petit point noir qui
parait organise comme un asil, sans
pouvoir servir a la vision, puisque
la peau passe dessus sans s'ouvrir
ni s'amincir, et sans y avoir moins
de poils qu'autre part. — II se pour-
rait, comme le dit M. Olivier, qu'il
eiit donne aux anciens l'idee de
fair la taupe toute-a-fait aveugle. p.
201.

ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED.

189

THE BEAR.

Aristotle.
The bear is an omnivorous ani
mal, living on various fruits, on
honey, on ants, and on flesh ; at
tacking not only the smaller ani
mals, but even wild boars and
bulls.* The feet of the bear re
semble hands ; and for a short time
this animal can walk erect on its
two bind feet.
'H 8' dpxTos *au,ij)dyov idn. xal yap
xaptfov idftisi — xai (aeXi — xai fMjpu.7|xa£,
xai dapxoipayeT. Sid ydp rr\v iV^uv eVi-
Ti'OsTai ou u.ovov roig iXdcpoig dXX« xai
roTg dypfoij vdlv — xai ro~g Taupois- ofjiotfe
xupijdada yap ru ravpu xard irpodw
iTov uirri'a xarairlirrei, xal tou Taupou
tuiTteiv sVl;£SipouvTO£ roTg (liv /3pa%lodi
rd xepara irspiXa(j./3dvsi, ru Si dr6jJ.an
T15V dxpwfJii'av Saxovda xarafidXXei rbv
raupov. f3a8i/£ei 8' eiri Tiva jjpovov 0X1-
yov xai Toiv 5uoiv iroSoTv op<Wj. p. 224.

Cuvier, tom. I.
The bear though so powerful an
animal is not disposed to feed on
flesh, unless when compelled by
want of other food. Bears walk
on the whole sole of the foot, and
are thus enabled to raise them
selves with comparative ease in an
erect position on their hind feet.
Les ours — malgre leur extreme
force, ne mangent-ils guere de
chair que par necessite. Ils mar-
chent sur la plante entiere, ce qui
leur donne plus de facilite pour se
dresser sur leurs pieds de derriere.
p. 141.

THE SEAL.

The seal brings forth its young
on shore, but passes most of its
time in the sea, and derives its
nourishment from thence. With
respect to its extremities, it may
be considered as an imperfect quad
ruped ; for immediately in succes
sion to its shoulder blades it has
feet resembling hands;\ and on
each foot are five toes, and each
toe has three joints : the hind feet
in their shape resemble the tail of
a fish. All the teeth of the seal are
sharp and pointed, as indicating

The feet of the seal are so short,.
and so enveloped in the skin, that
on land they only serve them for
crawling ; but, as the interstices of
the toes are filled up with mem
brane, they act as excellent oars;
and hence these animals pass the
greater part of their life in the sea,
only coming to land for the purpose
of basking in the sun and suckling
their cubs. They have five toes on
each of their feet : and on tile hind
feet the outermost and innermost
are longest, the intermediate being

* Its mode of engaging with the bull is thus described by Aristotle : " In engag
ing the bull, the bear throws itself on its back ; and, while the bull is attempting to
toss it, the bear takes the bull's horns between its paws, and thus overthrows its
adversary." + From the shortness of the arm and fore-arm in this animal, Aristotle overlooked
these parts.

190

APPENDIX.

Aristotle.
the approximation of their nature
to fish ; almost all fish having teeth
of that character. The seal has a
cloven tongue.
'H Si cpuxr\ — ti'xtsi ev rj\ yj\ \isv —
Siarpi/3n Si rov ^povou rbv iroXuv xai
r peeper ai ix ttjs 6aXdrri)g. p. 167, 168.
'H 8i cpuxr] udirep irsirripufj.svov idrl rs-
rpdirovv svdvg ydp s%ei jxerd tijv wu,o-
irXdrriv Toug irbSai oftoiouf ^sptfiv — cev-
Ta5dxTuXoi ydp eidi, xal sxadrog ruv
SaxrvXuv xay.irdg s%ei rpelg — oi 8' btrid-
dioi — ru dx^ari irapairX'iidioi raig ruv
ixfivuv oupaig eidi. p. 27. Kap^apo-
Sovv idrl irddi tois bSovdiv, ug iiraXXdr-
rovda toj ys'vsi ruv i^iiwv oi ydp Irfvsg
irdvreg d%s8bv xap%apbSovreg sitfiv. p.
33. "E#£i 8i  ^0J#IO>£'V7|V T^V yXwT-
Tav. p. 48.

Cuvier, tom. I.
shortest. All their teeth have either
pointed or cutting edges. Their
tongue is indented at the extre
mity. Leurs pieds sont si courts, et
tellement enveloppes dans la peau,
qu'ils ne peuvent, sur terre, leur
servir qu'a ramper ; mais comme
les intervalles des doigts y sont
remplis par des membranes, ce
sont des rames excellentes ; aussi
ces animaux passent-ils la plus
grande partie de leur vie dans la
mer, et ne viennent a terre que
pour se reposer au soleil, et allaiter
leurs petits. p. 163, 164. Les pho-
ques \ont — cinq doigts a tous les
pieds-vau pieds de derriere, le
pouce et le petit doigt sont les plus
longs, etites intermediares les plus
courts. Toutes les dents sont tran-
chantes ou coniques. p. 164 Leur
langue est lisse, et echancree au
bout. p. 165.

THE ELEPHANT.

The elephant has five toes on
each foot ; though the joints of
these are not very distinct. It has
four teeth on each side of its mouth,
with which it triturates its food,
and makes it as smooth as bran :
and besides these it has two very
large teeth. It has a long and pow
erful proboscis, which it uses as a
hand ; for with this organ it takes
up and conveys to its mouth both
solid and liquid food. Its intestines
have appendages, presenting the
appearance of four stomachs : 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 probo
scis.

Elephants have on each foot five
toes, very well defined in the skele
ton, but so embedded in the callous
skin enveloping the foot that they
can only be recognised externally
by their nails, which are attached
to the edge of this hoof as it were.
They have two tusks, which some
times grow to an enormous- size ;
and either four or eight grinding
teeth on each side according to the
periods of their developement. Tbe
proboscis, terminating in an appen
dage like a finger, gives to the ele
phant a degree of address equal to
that which the hand of the ape im
parts to that animal. The elephant
uses this proboscis for the purpose
of conveying solid food or pumping
up liquids into its mouth. The in
testines of the elephant are volumi-

ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED.

191

Aristotle.

"EoVi Si irsvraSdxrvXov (6 iXecpag") —
rd re irepl roiig SaxruXovg dSiap&purb-
repa sjcei rZv troSuv. p. 25, 'O 8' eXe*-
tpag oSovrag jj.sv ejjsi rsrrapag icp' sxd-
TSpa, oi£ xaTEpyd^srai rr\v rpocprtv (Xsai-
vei <5' udirep xpifivd,) %up!g Ss rovruv
dXXovg Svo roiig f*,sydXou£. p. 34. TloTs
Se iXbcpadiv a (/.uxTijp yiverai u,axpoj xa;
ld%vpbg, xai xp^rai avru udirep %eip'r
tpoddyerai re ydp xal Xafji/3dvEi toutu
xai slg rb drofxa irpodtpeperat rrtv rpocpypi,
xcti T-ijv uypdv xai rrjv |r)pdv, [jiovov ruv
%,uuv. p. 14. 'O Se iXecpag EVTEpov e%e>
dv\h<pudeig e%ov, udre cpaivsd&ai rsTrapag
xoiXias e'^jeiv p. 47. *E^;£i Se rovg
{hadrovg Svo irepl rag iaad%kXag — dux
iv ru drvfiei dXXd irpos rto drij&ei. p.
30 et 26. 'O 8e oVjuotso rav yevrirai,
dljXd^Ei tu drbfiari xai ov ru (Auxr5jpi.
p. 191.
Camper says that in almost all
points the anatomy of the elephant
is correctly represented by Aristo
tle ; the apparent inconsistencies
arising from his having dissected a
young elephant. Tom. ii. p. 205,
&c

Cuvier, torn. I.
nous ; it has two mammas placed
under the breast, and its cub sucks
with the mouth, and not with the
trunk. (Les elephans) ont cinq doigts a
tous les pieds, bien complets dans
le squelette, mais tellement encrou-
tes dans la peau calleuse qui en-
toure le pied, qu'ils n'apparaissent
au dehors que. par les ongles at
taches sur te bord de cette espeee
de sabot, p. 228, 229. Deux de
fenses qui sortent de la bouche et
prennent souvent un accroissement
enorme. p. 229. Tantfit une, tan-
tot deux machelieres de chaque
cote, quatre ou huit en tout, selon
les epoques. p. 231. Une trompe
cylindrique — terminee par un ap-
pendice en forme de doigt — donne
a l'elephant presque autant d'a-
dresse que la perfection de la main
peut en donner au singe. II s'en
sert pour saisir tout ce qu'il veut
porter a sa bouche et pour pomper
sa boisson. p. 229. Les intestins
sont tres-volumineux — les mam-
meltes, au nombre de deux seule
ment, placees sous la poitrine. Le
petit tette avec la bouche et non
avec la trompe. p. 230.

RUMINATING ANIMALS.

All viviparous quadrupeds which
have horns are without the front
teeth in the upper jaw ; and some
indeed which have no horns have
the same defect with respect to the
teeth, as the camel.
Of viviparous quadrupeds some
are cloven-footed and have hoofs
instead of claws, as the ox, sheep,
goat, and deer. The same animals
have four stomachs, and are said
to ruminate.

With the exception of the camel
and the musk, all the animals of
this order have horns ; and all are
without front teeth in the upper
jaw. The feet terminate in two toes,
each of which is covered with a
separate hoof, and is opposed to
its fellow by a flat surface; from
whence they are called cloven-foot
ed. The animals of this order are
called ruminating; and have al
ways four stomachs.

192

APPENDIX.

Aristotle.
With the exception of the deer,
all ruminating animals have horns
which are partly hollow, and partly
solid ; the hollow part grows out
of the skin, of which it is indeed a
continuation ; but that part round
which this hollow is fitted is solid,
and grows out of the bone ; as in
oxen. The horns of most animals are,
in their form, simple, and are hol
low, except at their extremity ; the
horns of the deer alone are in their
form arborescent; and, in their sub
stance, solid throughout.
The deer alone, from the age of
two years, sheds its horns annual
ly % the horns of other animals are
permanent, unless separated by
violence. Deer at the age of one
year have merely the rudiments of
horns, short sprouts, as it were,
covered with downy skin. At the
age of two years they develope
straight horns like wooden pegs ;
and are hence called at that period
ifarraXiai. At three years their horns have
two branches ; at four years, more ;
and in this way the number of
branches increases till tbe animal
is six years old ; after which 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 animal
exposes itself to the sun, in order
to ripen and dry up this covering.
TETpdtfoiSa Evaifta xai ^uoTOxa — oda
(/.sv sdr xEpaTopopa, oux diMpuSovrd id
nv ou y p l%ei tou£ upodbiovg sir! rijj
dvu diaybvog. sdri 8' fvia oux djJ.tpuSovra
xa! dx'para, oiov xiu/»)XoS. p. 32.

Cuvier, tom. I.
The structure of the horns differs
in different species. In some the
solid osseous part which projects
from the frontal bone is covered
with a hollow case, which grows
over it from the skin, as in oxen,
sheep, and goats.

In the various species of deer the
osseous projections are covered,
during their growth, with skin re
sembling that of the rest of the
head. This skin subsequently pe
rishes, leaving tbe osseous horn
uncovered ; and, after a time, the
horns themselves are shed ; and
are succeeded by others which are
usually larger than the preceding;
and these again are shed in their
turn and replaced by others.
The figure of the born in deer
varies according to the age and
species of the animal.

Les ruminans — ont l'air d'etre
presque tous construits sur le
meme modele, et les chameaux
seuls presentent quelques petites
exceptions aux caracteres com-
muns. Le premier de ces carac
teres est de n'avoir d'incisives
qu'a la machoire inferieure. p. 246.
Toute le reste de ruminans (ex-

ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED.

193

Aristotle.

Twv Se rerpairbSuv xal ivaifiuv xai
^uorbxuv ra u,s'v sVti — BtdxiSri, xal
dvr! ruv bvvyuv yy\Xdg s^si, woVsp
irpb/3arov xa! a'1% xai eXacpos xai (3ovg.
p. 29.
Kai TsVrapas e^si dvoft,oiag xoiXiag1
a Srj xai hsyerai fMipuxd^Eiv. p. 46.

Twv 5' I^ovtojv xspaj AV oXou /xsv
ey_si drepe\v (xovov I'Xaipoff, Ta 8' aXXa
xofXa fAE'xpi tivos, to 5' edxarov drepebv.
rb {llev ouv xorXov ix tou Sepjiarog irecpvxe
(/.aXXov. irspi 8i [o]* touto irepii)pjj<6drui
to drepebv ex ruv bdruv, oiov rd xepara
ruv /3ogjv. p. 30. Tojv Si xsparuv rd
(xev irXeTdra xofXd sVtiv dirb t% tfpotf-
cpvdsug irepl rb ivrbg ixirecpvxbg ix t5jj
xsipaX% offVouv, iir' dxpov 8' I'^si to dre
pebv, xo.i ednv uirXa' rd 5s ruv eXacpuv
u,ova Si' oXou dreped xai iroXvdxiSr). p.
67, 68. 'Airoj3dXXsi Si rd xspara
(jio'vov 'iXacpog xar' srog, dp£ap,evog dirb
Sterovi, xal irdXiv cpver rd 8' aXXa dv-
vsyug ey_si, idv jltj r\ /3ia irtipwdij. p.
30. Oi u.s» ouv Eviautfioi ou cpvovdi xi-
pa.ra, irXyv uuVsp dy^s'iov x^Plv dpxhv
Tiva- touto 8' sdri fipayy xai Sadv.
cpvovdi Si SisreTg irpurov rd xspara su-
dea, xaQdirsp irarraXovg' Sib xal xaXovdi
tots #aTTaXia£ auVouff. Tu Si rpiru
srei Sixpovv cpvovdi, ru Si rerapru Tpa-
yuTSpov xa! rovrov tov Tpoifov a£i Effioi-
Soadi (A^XP' *i £™v. dirb rovrov Si 6'ji.oia
a£i dvaipuourfiv. p. 258. Td Si xspara

Cuvier, tom. I.
cepte les chameaux, &c.) a, au
moins dans la sexe male, deux
comes, c'est-a-dire, deux proemi-
nences plus ou moins longues des
os frontaux. p. 252.
Les quatre pieds sont termines
par deux doigts et par deux sabots,
qui se regardent par une face apla-
tie, en sorte qu'ils ont l'air d'un sa
bot unique, qui aurait ete fendu.
p. 246.
Le nom de ruminans indique la
propriete singuliere de ces ani
maux, de macher une seconde fois
les alimens — propriete qui tient a
la structure de leurs estomacs. Ils
en ont toujours quatre. p. 247.
Dans le genre des boeufs, &c. les
cornes sont revetues d'un etui —
on donne en particulier le nom de
come a la substance de cet etui,
et lui-meme porte celui de come
creuse. p. 252. Dans le genre des
cerfs, les preeminences couvertes
pendant un temps d'une peau ve-
lue comme celle du reste de la tete,
ont a leur base un anneau de tu-
bercules osseux, qui, en grossis-
sant, compriment et obliterent les
vaisseaux nourrissiers de cette
'peau. Elle se desseche et est en-
levee ; la preeminence osseuse mise
a nu, se separe au bout de quelque
temps du crane auquel elle tenait ;
elle tombe, et l'animal demeure
sans armes. Mais il lui en re
pousse bientfit de nouvelles, d'or-
dinaire plus grandes que les prece-
^dentes, et destinees a subir les
memes revolutions. Ces cornes,
purement osseuses, et sujettes &
des changemens periodiques, por
tent le nom de bois. p. 253. La

• There can be no doubt from the structure of the horns of oxen, &o.
dative (») ought to be retained ; and the to kojxch in rov S'lpftarog is evide

, that the
relative (s) ought to be retained ; and the to koIkov in rov Sipparos is evidently op
posed to the to o-Tipthv in rZv 'oo-rZv. But the question is quite settled by the fol
lowing passage from p. 67, rZv Si xtparav, *. r. \.
17

194

APPENDIX.

Aristotle.

Cuvier, tom. I.

(pusrai udirep iv dsppan rb irpurov, xai figure de ce bois varie beaucoup —
yi'vovTai Sadsa- oVav iS' av%i\&adiv, »)Xid- selon l'age. p. 254.
^ovrai, i'v' ixire-\/udi xai %v\pdvudt rb
xepag. p. 259.

CETACEOUS ANIMALS.

The dolphin and whale and other
cetaceous animals, which have not
gills, but a tube for conveying away
the sea-water received into their
mouth, are viviparous ; and they
respire air, for they have lungs:
and hence, if caught in a net, and
unable to come to the surface for
the purpose of breathing, they are
suffocated.

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 move
able, it is unable to utter an articu
late 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 remarka
ble that they have been known to
spring over the decks of ships.

The cetaceous animal called mys-
ticetus has no teeth, but hairs in
stead, like hogs' bristles.

Cetaceous animals remain con
stantly in the water ; but, as they
respire by means of lungs, they are
obliged to come often to the sur
face for air. p. 272. The ordinary
cetacea possess a remarkable appa
ratus, 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 laminae
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 pos
sesses the docility usually attri
buted 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, ap
pears evidently to be the dolphin
of the ancients, p. 278.
The upper jaw of the balaenae is
furnished with thin transverse la
minae closely set, formed of a kind
of fibrous horn terminating in a
bristly fringe at the border, p.
284.

ARISTOTLE AND CUVIER COMPARED.

195

Aristotle.
AeXcplg Ss xa! cpdXaiva xal Ta dXXa
xijrr), oda pq gysi /3pdy^ia dXXd cpvdy-
rripa, i^uoroxovdiv. 'AvairvsT Si iravra
oda exei cpvdrirr)pa, xai Ssxerai rbv
dipa' rfXsufiova ydp I'^ourfi'v. p. 167.
Aio xai Xau./3av6fAsvoj o SeXcplg iv roTg
oWuois diroirviysrai raxiug 8id rb fj.f\
dvairveTv. p. 215.

Cuvier, tom. I.

'AipiTjCi Si xal o SeXcplg Tpiyftov xai
p-u^si, oVav igiXSj), Iv ru depi — sdri
ydp rovru cpuvif sy_si ydp xai irXevpova
xal dpTripiav, dXXd rr)v yXurrav oux
«*oXeXu(/.£v>)v ou<5e X5'^'' wots apdpov
ti rrjg cpuvrjg tfoisiv. p. 106.
'O SeXcpig sy_si jxadrovg Svo, oux dvu
8' dXXd irXijdlov ruv apHpuv. p. 40.
Tcliv Si AaXaddiuv irXsidra Xsyerai
dy^eTa irepi rovg SeXjpTvag irpaoT*|Tos xai
fyiSpOTIITOb". p. 301.
"H8r\ <T uirrai SeXcpivuv piydXuv
dyeXr) ajxa xai fj-ixpuv. keyerai Si xai
irepl Ta^uTiiToff diridra rov £wov osirdv-
ruv ydp SoxeT si'vai c^uuv rdxidrov, xai
ruv ivvSpuv xai~ tgjv ^sptfaiwv, xai' iire-
paXXovrca Si irXoiuv pteyaXuv iaVouj.
p. 302.
"Eti Si xai 6 u.u£ to xijTOf oiJovTaj
(aev iv toj drb^ari oux fvfl, rpix«S Se
bpoiag usi'aiS. p. 72.

Les cetaces se tiennent constam-
ment dans les eaux ; mais comme
ils respirent par des poumons, ils
sont obliges de revenir souvent a
la surface pour y prendre de l'air.
p. 272. Les cetaces ordinaires se
distinguent par l'appareil singulier
qui leur a valu le nom commun de
souffleurs. C'est qu'engloutissant,
avec leur proie, de grands volumes
d'eau, il leur fallait une voie pour
s'en debarrasser; elle s'amasse
dans un sac place a l'orifice exte-
rieur de la cavite du nez, d'ou elle
est chassee avec violence — au tra-
vers d'une ouverture percee au-
dessus de la tete. p. 275, 276.
II n'y a point de lames saillantes
dans leur glotte, et leur voix doit
se reduire a de simples mugisse-
mens. p. 276.

Leurs mamelles sont pres de 1'a-
nus. p. 276.
Toute l'organisation de son cer-
veau annonce que le dauphin ne
doit pas etre depourvu de la doci-
lite que les anciens lui attribuaient.
p. 278.
Cet animal, repandu en grandes
troupes dans toutes les mers, et
celebre par la velocite de son
mouvement, qui te fait s'elancer
quelquefois sur te tillac des navires,
parait reellement avoir ete te dau
phin des anciens. p. 278.
La machoire superieure — a ses
deux cotes garnis de lames trans-
verses minces et serrees, — formees
d'une espfece de corne fibreuse, effi-
lees a 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 ac
cessible to both writers, ,the descriptions of Aristotle are hardly inferior
in accuracy to those of Cuvier. Nor does this observation hold with

196 APPENDIX.
reference to the more common animals only : it is equally remarkable
with reference to those which are of comparative rarity ; in support of
which assertion I would refer, among other instances, to the description
of the sepia, and of the chameleon, and of the evolutiou of tbe egg of the
bird during incubation. But I have perhaps already extended this com
parison too far, and will therefore here conclude.

THE END.