never knew, about oviparous generation; could| we divest ourselves of every information, but what we derived from reasoning upon the appearances or quality discovered in the objects presented to us; I am convinced that Harlequin coming out of an egg upon the stage, is not more astonishing to a child, than the hatching of a chicken both would be, and ought to be, to a philosopher.

But admit the sparrow by some means to know, that within that egg was concealed the principle of a future bird: from what chymist was she to learn, that warmth was necessary to bring it to maturity, or that the degree of warmth, imparted by the temperature of her own body, was the degree required?

To suppose, therefore, that the female bird acts in this process from a sagacity and reason of her own, is to suppose her to arrive at conclusions which there are no premises to justify. If our sparrow, sitting upon her eggs, expect young sparrows to come out of them, she forms, I will venture to say, a wild and extravagant expectation, in opposition to present appearances, and to probability. She must have penetrated into the order of nature, farther than any faculties of ours will carry us: and it hath been well observed, that this deep sagacity, if it be sagacity, subsists in conjunction with great stupidity, even in relation to the same subject. "A chymical operation," says Addison, "could not be followed with greater art or diligence, than is seen in hatching a chicken: yet is the process carried on without the least glimmering of thought or common sense. The hen will mistake a piece of chalk for an egg; is insensible of the increase or diminution of their number; does not distinguish between her own and those of another species; is frightened when her supposititious breed of ducklings take the water."

the preparation of the nest before the laying of the egg. This she could not gain from observation in her infancy.

It is remarkable also, that the hen sits upon eggs which she has laid without any communication with the male; and which are therefore necessarily unfruitful. That secret she is not let into. Yet if incubation had been a subject of instruction or of tradition, it should seem that this distinction would have formed part of the lesson: whereas the instinct of nature is calculated for a state of nature: the exception here alluded to, taking place chiefly, if not solely, amongst domesticated fowls, in which nature is forced out of her

course.

There is another case of oviparous economy, which is still less likely to be the effect of education than it is even in birds, namely that of moths and butterflies, which deposit their eggs in the precise substance, that of a cabbage for example, from which, not the butterfly herself, but the caterpillar which is to issue from her egg, draws its appropriate food. The butterfly cannot taste the cabbage. Cabbage is no food for her: yet in the cabbage, not by chance, but studiously and electively, she lays her eggs. There are, amongst many other kinds, the willow-caterpillar and the cabbage-caterpillar: but we never find upon a willow the caterpillar which cats the cabbage; nor the converse. This choice, as appears to me, cannot in the butterfly proceed from instruction. She had no teacher in her caterpillar state. She never knew her parent. I do not see, therefore, how knowledge acquired by experience, if it ever were such, could be transmitted from one generation to another. There is no opportunity either for instruction or imitation. The parent race is gone, before the new brood is hatched. And if it But it will be said, that what reason could not be original reasoning in the butterfly, it is prodo for the bird, observation, or instruction, or tra- found reasoning indeed. She must remember her dition, might. Now if it be true, that a couple of caterpillar state, its tastes and habits of which sparrows, brought up from the first in a state of memory she shows no signs whatever. She must separation from all other birds, would build their conclude from analogy (for here her recollection nest, and brood upon their eggs, then there is an cannot serve her,) that the little round body which end to this solution. What can be the tradition-drops from her abdomen, will at a future period ary knowledge of a chicken hatched in an oven?

produce a living creature, not like herself, but like the caterpillar which she remembers herself once to have been. Under the influence of these reflections, she goes about to make provision for an order of things, which she concludes will, some time or other, take place. And it is to be observed, that not a few out of many, but that all butterflies argue thus; all draw this conclusion; all act upon it.

Of young birds taken in their nests, a few species breed, when kept in cages; and they which do so, build their nests nearly in the same manner as in the wild state, and sit upon their eggs. This is sufficient to prove an instinct, without having recourse to experiments upon birds hatched by artificial heat, and deprived, from their birth, of all communication with their species: for we can But suppose the address, and the selection, and hardly bring ourselves to believe, that the parent the plan, which we perceive in the preparations bird informed her unfledged pupil of the history which many irrational animals make for their of her gestation, her timely preparation of a nest, young, to be traced to some probable origin; still her exclusion of the eggs, her long incubation, and there is left to be accounted for, that which is the of the joyful eruption at last of her expected off-source and foundation of these phenomena, that spring; all which the bird in the cage must have learnt in her infancy, if we resolve her conduct into institution.

which sets the whole at work, the rey, the parental affection, which I contend to be inexplica ble upon any other hypothesis than that of instinct.

Unless we will rather suppose, that she remembers her own escape from the egg; had attentively For we shall hardly, I imagine, in brutes, refer observed the conformation of the nest in which their conduct towards their offspring to a sense of she was nurtured; and had treasured up her re- duty, or of decency, a care of reputation, a commarks for future imitation: which is not only ex-pliance with public manners, with public laws, or tremely improbable, (for who, that sees a brood of with rules of life built upon a long experience of callow birds in their nest, can believe that they are their utility. And all attempts to account for the taking a plan of their habitation?) but leaves un-parental affection from association, I think, fail. accounted for, one principal part of the difficulty, With what is it associated? Most immediately

In this part of the case, the variety of resources, expedients, and materials, which animals of the same species are said to have recourse to, under different circumstances, and when differently supplied, makes nothing against the doctrine of instincts. The thing which we want to account for, is the propensity. The propensity being there, it is probable enough that it may put the animal upon different actions, according to different exi

with the throes of parturition, that is, with pain | flock. I believe the same thing is true of all greand terror and disease. The more remote, but garious quadrupeds. not less strong association, that which depends upon analogy, is all against it. Every thing else which proceeds from the body, is cast away, and rejected. In birds, is it the egg which the hen loves? or is it the expectation which she cherishes of a future progeny, that keeps her upon her nest? What cause has she to expect delight from her progeny? Can any rational answer be given to the question, why, prior to experience, the brooding hen should look for pleasure from her chick-gencies. And this adaptation of resources may ens? It does not, I think, appear, that the cuckoo ever knows her young: yet, in her way, she is as careful in making provision for them, as any other bird. She does not leave her egg in every hole.

look like the effect of art and consideration, rather than of instinct: but still the propensity is instinctive. For instance, suppose what is related of the woodpecker to be true, that in Europe she deposits her eggs in cavities, which she scoops out The salmon suffers no surmountable obstacle to in the trunks of soft or decayed trees, and in which oppose her progress up the stream of fresh rivers. cavities the eggs lie concealed from the eye, and And what does she do there? She sheds a spawn, in some sort safe from the hand of man: but that which she immediately quits, in order to return in the forests of Guinea and the Brazils, which to the sea: and this issue of her body, she never man seldom frequents, the same bird hangs her afterward recognises in any shape whatever. nest to the twigs of tall trees; theby placing Where shall we find a motive for her efforts and them out of the reach of monkeys and snakes; her perseverance? Shall we seek it in argument- i. e. that in each situation she prepares against ation, or in instinct? The violet crab of Jamaica the danger which she has most occasion to apperforms a fatiguing march of some months' con- prehend: suppose, I say, this to be true, and to tinuance, from the mountains to the sea side. be alleged, on the part of the bird that builds these When she reaches the coast, she casts her spawn nests, as evidence of a reasoning and distinguishinto the open sea; and sets out upon her returning precaution; still the question returns, whence the propensity to build at all?

home.

Nor does parental affection accompany genera tion by any universal law of animal organization, if such a thing were intelligible. Some animals cherish their progeny with the most ardent fondness, and the most assiduous attention; others entirely neglect them: and this distinction always meets the constitution of the young animal, with respect to its wants and capacities. In many, the parental care extends to the young animal; in others, as in all oviparous fish, it is confined to the egg, and even, as to that, to the disposal of it in its proper element. Also, as there is genera tion without parental affection, so is there parental instinct, or what exactly resembles it, without generation. In the bee tribe, the grub is nurtured neither by the father nor the mother, but by the Probably the case is the same with

Moths and butterflies, as hath already been observed, seek out for their eggs those precise situations and substances in which the offspring caterpillar will find its appropriate food. That dear caterpillar, the parent butterfly must never see. There are no experiments to prove that she would retain any knowledge of it, if she did. How shall we account for her conduct? I do not mean for her art and judgment in selecting and securing a maintenance for her young, but for the impulse upon which she acts. What should induce her to exert any art, or judgment, or choice, about the matter? The undisclosed grub, the animal which she is destined not to know, can hardly be the object of a particular affection, if we deny the influence of instinct. There is nothing, therefore, left to her, but that of which her nature seems in-neutral bee. capable, an abstract anxiety for the general preservants. ation of the species; a kind of patriotism; a solicitude lest the butterfly race should cease from the creation.

Lastly; the principle of association will not explain the discontinuance of the affection when the young animal is grown up. Association, operating in its usual way, would rather produce a contrary effect. The object would become more necessary, by habits of society: whereas birds and beasts, after a certain time, banish their off spring; disown their acquaintance; seem to have even no knowledge of the objects which so lately engrossed the attention of their minds, and occupied the industry and labour of their bodies. This change, in different animals, takes place at different distances of time from the birth: but the time always corresponds with the ability of the young animal to maintain itself; never anticipates it. In the sparrow tribe, when it is perceived that the young brood can fly, and shift for themselves, then the parents forsake them for ever; and, though they continue to live together, pay them no more attention than they do to other birds in the same

I am not ignorant of the theory which resolves instinct into sensation; which asserts, that what appears to have a view and relation to the future, is the result only of the present disposition of the animal's body, and of pleasure or pain experienced at the time. Thus the incubation of eggs is accounted for by the pleasure which the bird is supposed to receive from the pressure of the smooth convex surface of the shells against the abdomen, or by the relief which the mild temperature of the egg may afford to the heat of the lower part of the body, which is observed at this time to be increased beyond its usual state. This present gratification is the only motive with the he for sitting upon her nest; the hatching of the chickens is, with respect to her, an accidental conse quence. The affection of viviparous animals for their young is, in like manner, solved by the relief, and perhaps the pleasure, which they receive from giving suck. The young animal's seeking, in so many instances, the teat of its dam, is ex

Goldsmith's Nat. His. vol. iv. p. 244.

plained from its sense of smell, which is attracted | by the odour of milk. The salmon's urging its way up the stream of fresh water rivers, is attributed to some gratification or refreshment, which, in this particular state of the fish's body, she receives from the change of element. Now of this theory, it may be said,

sparrow world, could have produced. But how do these consequences ensue? The sensations, and the constitution upon which they depend, are as manifestly directed to the purpose which we see fulfilled by them; and the train of intermediate effects, as manifestly laid and planned with a view to that purpose: that is to say, design is as completely evinced by the phenomena, as it would be, even if we suppose the operations to begin, or to be carried on, from what some will allow to be alone properly called instincts, that is, from desires directed to a future end, and having no accomplishment or gratification distinct from the attainment of that end.

In a word; I should say to the patrons of this opinion, Be it so: be it, that those actions of animals which we refer to instinct, are not gone about with any view to their consequences, but that they are attended in the animal with a pre

First, that of the cases which require solution, there are few to which it can be applied with tolerable probability; that there are none to which it can be applied without strong objections, furnished by the circumstances of the case. The attention of the cow to its calf, and of the ewe to its lamb, appear to be prior to their sucking. The attraction of the calf or lamb to the teat of the dam, is not explained by simply referring it to the sense of smell. What made the scent of milk so agreeable to the lamb, that it should follow it up with its nose, or seek with its mouth the place from which it proceeded? No observation, no ex-sent gratification, and are pursued for the sake of perience, no argument, could teach the new dropped animal, that the substance from which the scent issued was the material of its food. It had never tasted milk before its birth. None of the animals which are not designed for that nourishment, ever offer to suck, or to seek out any such food. What is the conclusion, but that the suit. gescent parts of animals are fitted for their use, and the knowledge of that use put into them?

that gratification alone; what does all this prove, but that the prospection, which must be somewhere, is not in the animal, but in the Creator?

In treating of the parental affection in brutes, our business lies rather with the origin of the principle, than with the effects and expressions of

Writers recount these with pleasure and admiration. The conduct of many kinds of animals towards their young, has escaped no observer, no historian of nature. "How will they caress them," says Derham, "with their affectionate notes; lull and quiet them with their tender parental voice; put food into their mouths; cherish and keep them warm; teach them to pick, and eat, and gather food for themselves; and, in a word, perform the part of so many nurses, deputed by the Sovereign Lord and Preserver of the world, to help such young and shiftless creatures!" Neither ought it, under this head, to be forgotten, how much the instinct costs the animal which feels it; how much a bird, for example, gives up, by sitting upon her nest; how repugnant it is to her organization, her habits, and her pleasures. An animal, formed for liberty, submits to confinement, in the very season when every thing invites her abroad: what is more; an animal delighting in motion, made for motion, all whose motions are so easy and so free, hardly a moment, at other times, at rest, is, for many hours of many days together, fixed to her nest, as close as if her limbs were tied down by pins and wires. For my part, I never see a bird in that situation, but I recognise an invisible hand, detaining the contented prisoner from her fields and groves, for the purpose, as the event proves, the most worthy of the sacrifice, the most important, the most beneficial.

We assert, secondly, that, even as to the cases in which the hypothesis has the fairest claim to consideration, it does not at all lessen the force of the argument for intention and design. The doctrine of instinct is that of appetencies, superadded to the constitution of an animal, for the effectuating of a purpose beneficial to the species. The above stated solution would derive these appetencies from organization; but then this organization is not less specifically, not less precisely, and, therefore, not less evidently, adapted to the same ends, than the appetencies themselves would be upon the old hypothesis. In this way of considering the subject, sensation supplies the place of foresight: but this is the effect of contrivance on the part of the Creator. Let it be allowed, for example, that the hen is induced to brood upon her eggs by the enjoyment or relief, which, in the heated state of her abdomen, she experiences from the pressure of round smooth surfaces, or from the application of a temperate warmth: How comes this extraordinary heat or itching, or call it what you will, which you suppose to be the cause of the bird's inclination, to be felt, just at the time when the inclination itself is wanted; when it tallies so exactly with the internal constitution of the egg, and with the help which that constitution requires in order to bring it to maturity? In my But the loss of liberty is not the whole of what opinion, this solution, if it be accepted as to the the procreant bird suffers. Harvey tells us, that fact, ought to increase, rather than otherwise, our he has often found the female wasted to skin and admiration of the contrivance. A gardener light-bone by sitting upon her eggs. ing up his stoves, just when he wants to force his One observation more, and I will dismiss the fruit, and when his trees require the heat, gives subject. The pairing of birds, and the nonnot a more certain evidence of design. So again; pairing of beasts, forms a distinction between the when a male and female sparrow come together, two classes, which shows, that the conjugal inthey do not meet to confer upon the expediency stinct is modified with a reference to utility of perpetuating their species. As an abstract founded on the condition of the offspring. In proposition, they care not the value of a barley-quadrupeds, the young animal draws its nutricorn, whether the species be perpetuated, or not: they follow their sensations; and all those consequences ensue, which the wisest counsels could have dictated, which the most solicitous care of futurity, which the most anxious concern for the

ment from the body of the dam. The male parent neither does nor can contribute any part to its sustentation. In the winged race, the young bird is supplied by an importation of food, to procure and bring home which in a sufficient quan

tity for the demand of a numerous brood, requires | the industry of both parents. In this difference, we see a reason for the vagrant instinct of the quadruped, and for the faithful love of the feathered mate.

CHAPTER XIX.

Of Insects.

We are not writing a system of natural history; therefore we have not attended to the classes, into which the subjects of that science are distributed. What we had to observe concerning different species of animals, fell easily, for the most part, within the divisions which the course of our argument led us to adopt. There remain, however, some remarks upon the insect tribe, which could not properly be introduced under any of these heads; and which therefore we have collected into a chapter by themselves.

them; or to expand again their folds, when wanted for action.

In some insects, the elytra cover the whole body; in others, half; in others, only a small part of it; but in all, they completely hide and cover the true wings. Also,

Many or most of the beetle species lodge in holes in the earth, environed by hard, rough substances, and have frequently to squeeze their way through narrow passages; in which situation, wings so tender, and so large, could scarcely have escaped injury, without both a firm covering to defend them, and the capacity of collecting themselves up under its protection.

II. Another contrivance, equally mechanical, and equally clear, is the aul, or borer, fixed at the tails of various species of flies; and with which they pierce, in some cases, plants; in others, wood; in others, the skin and flesh of animals; in others, the coat of the chrysalis of insects of a different species from their own; and in others, even lime, mortar, and stone. I need not add, that having pierced the substance, they deposit their eggs in the hole. The descriptions which naturalists give of this organ, are such as the following: It is a sharp-pointed instrument, which, in its inactive state, lies concealed in the extremi ty of the abdomen, and which the animal draws out at pleasure, for the purpose of making a puneture in the leaves, stem, or bark, of the particular plant which is suited to the nourishment of its young. In a sheath, which divides and opens whenever the organ is used, there is enclosed a compact, solid, dendated stem, along which runs a gutter or groove, by which groove, after the penetration is effected, the egg, assisted, in some cases by a peristaltic motion, passes to its destined lodgement. In the cestrum or gad-fly, the wimble draws out like the pieces of a spy-glass; the last piece is armed with three hooks, and is able to bore through the hide of an ox. Can any thing more be necessary to display the mechanisin, than to relate the fact?

The structure, and the use of the parts, of insects, are less understood than that of quadrupeds and birds, not only by reason of their minuteness, or the minuteness of their parts (for that minuteness we can, in some measure, follow with glasses,) but also by reason of the remoteness of their manners and modes of life from those of larger animals. For instance: insects, under all their varieties of form, are endowed with antennæ, which is the name given to those long feelers that rise from each side of the head; but to what common use or want of the insect kind, a provision so universal is subservient, has not yet been ascertained, and it has not been ascertained, because it admits not of a clear, or very probable, comparison, with any organs which we possess ourselves, or with the organs of animals which resemble ourselves in their functions and faculties, or with which we are better acquainted, than we are with insects. We want a ground of analogy. This difficulty stands in our way as to some particulars in the insect III. The stings of insects, though for a diffeconstitution, which we might wish to be acquaint-rent purpose, are, in their structure, not unlike ed with. Nevertheless, there are many contri- the piercer. The sharpness to which the point in vances in the bodies of insects, neither dubious in all of them is wrought; the temper and firmness their use, nor obscure in their structure, and most of the substance of which it is composed; the properly mechanical. These form parts of our strength of the muscles by which it is darted out, argument. compared with the smallness and weakness of 1. The elytra, or scaly wings of the genus of the insect, and with the soft and friable texture of scarabæus or beetle, furnish an example of this the rest of the body, are properties of the sting to kind. The true wing of the animal is a light, be noticed, and not a little to be admired. The transparent membrane, finer than the finest sting of a bee will pierce through a goat-skin glove. gauze, and not unlike it. It is also, when ex- It penetrates the human flesh more readily than panded, in proportion to the size of the animal, the finest point of a needle. The action of the very large. In order to protect this delicate struc- sting affords an example of the union of chymistry ture, and, perhaps, also to preserve it in a due and mechanism, such as, if it be not a proof of state of suppleness and humidity, a strong, hard contrivance, nothing is. First, as to the chycase is given to it, in the shape of the horny wing mistry; how highly concentrated must be the which we call the elytron. When the animal is venom, which, in so small a quantity, can produce at rest, the gauze wings lie folded up under this such powerful effects! And in the bee we may impenetrable shield. When the beetle prepares observe, that this venom is made from honey, the for flying, he raises the integument, and spreads only food of the insect, but the last material from out his thin membrane to the air. And it cannot which I should have expected that an exalted be observed without admiration what a tissue of poison could, by any process or digestion whatsocordage, i. e. of muscular tendons, must run in ever, have been prepared. In the next place, various and complicated, but determinate direc-with respect to the mechanism, the sting is not a tions, along this fine surface, in order to enable the animal, either to gather it up into a certain precise form, whenever it desires to place its wings under the shelter which nature hath given to

simple, but a compound instrument. The visible sting, though drawn to a point exquisitely sharp, is in strictness only a sheath; for, near to the extremity, may be perceived by the microscope

two minute orifices, from which orifices, in the act of stinging, and, as it should seem, after the point of the main sting has buried itself in the flesh, are launched out two subtile rays, which may be called the true or proper stings, as being those through which the poison is infused into the puncture already made by the exterior sting. I have said that chymistry and mechanism are here united: by which observation I meant, that all this machinery would have been useless, telum imbelle, if a supply of poison, intense in quality, in proportion to the smallness of the drop, had not been furnished to it by the chymical elaboration which was carried on in the insect's body; and that, on the other hand, the poison, the result of this process, could not have attained its effect, or reached its enemy, if, when it was collected at the extremity of the abdomen, it had not found there a machinery, fitted to conduct it to the external situations in which it was to operate, viz. an awl to bore a hole, and a syringe to inject the fluid. Yet these attributes, though combined in their action, are independent in their origin. The venom does not breed the sting; nor does the sting concoct the venom.

into moths and flies, is an astonishing process. A hairy caterpillar is transformed into a butterfly. Observe the change. We have four beautiful wings, where there were none before; a tubular proboscis, in the place of a mouth with jaws and teeth; six long legs, instead of fourteen feet. In another case, we see a white, smooth, soft worm, turned into a black, hard, crustaceous beetle, with gauze wings. These, as I said, are astonishing processes, and must require, as it should seem, a proportionably artificial apparatus. The hypothesis which appears to me most probable is, that, in the grub, there exist at the same time three animals, one within another, all nourished by the same digestion, and by a communicating circulation; but in different stages of maturity. The latest discoveries made by naturalists, seem to favour this supposition. The insect already equipped with wings, is described under the membranes both of the worm and nymph. In some species, the proboscis, the antenna, the limbs, and wings, of the fly, have been observed to be folded up within the body of the caterpillar; and with such nicety as to occupy a small space only under the two first wings. This being so, the outermost animal, which, besides its own proper character, serves as an integument to the other two, being the farthest advanced, dies, as we suppose, and drops off first. The second, the pupa, or chrysalis, then offers itself to observation. This also, in its turn, dies; its dead and brittle husk falls to pieces, and makes way for the appearance of the fly or moth. Now, if this be the case, or indeed whatever explication be adopted, we have a prospective contrivance of the most curious kind: we have organizations three deep; yet a vascular system, which supplies nutrition, growth, and life, to all of them together.

IV. The proboscis, with which many insects are endowed, comes next in order to be considered. It is a tube attached to the head of the animal. In the bee, it is composed of two pieces, connected by a joint; for, if it were constantly extended, it would be too much exposed to accidental injuries; therefore, in its indolent state, it is doubled up by means of the joint, and in that position lies secure under a scaly penthouse. In many species of the butterfly, the proboscis, when not in use, is coiled up like a watch-spring. In the same bee, the proboscis serves the office of the mouth, the insect having no other: and how much better adapted it is, than a mouth would be, for the collecting of the proper nourishment of the animal, is sufficiently evident. The food of the bee is the nectar of flowers; a drop of syrup, lodged deep in the bottom of the corollæ, in the recesses of the petals, or down the neck of a monopetalous glove, Into these cells the bee thrusts its long narrow pump, through the cavity of which it sucks up this precious fluid, inaccessible to every other approach. It is observable also, that the plant is not the worse for what the bee does to it. The harm less plunderer rifles the sweets, but leaves the flower uninjured. The ringlets of which the proboscis of the bee is composed, the muscles by which it is extended and contracted, form so many microscopical wonders. The agility also with which it is moved, can hardly fail to excite admiration. But it is enough for our purpose to observe, in general, the suitableness of the structure to the use, of the means to the end, and especially the wisdom by which nature has departed from its most general analogy (for, animals being furnish-constitution. ed with mouths are such,) when the purpose could be better answered by the deviation.

VI. Almost all insects are oviparous. Nature keeps her butterflies, moths, and caterpillars, locked up during the winter in their egg state; and we have to admire the various devices to which, if we may so speak, the same nature hath resorted, for the security of the egg. Many insects enclose their eggs in a silken web; others cover them with a coat of hair, torn from their own bodies; some glue them together; and others, like the moth of the silkworm, glue them to the leaves upon which they are deposited, that they may not be shaken off by the wind, or washed away by rain: some again make incisions into leaves, and hide an egg in each incision; whilst some envelop their eggs with a soft substance, which forms the first aliment of the young animal: and some again make a hole in the earth, and, having stored it with a quantity of proper food, deposit their eggs in it. In all which we are to observe, that the expedient depends, not so much upon the address of the animal, as upon the physical resources of his

The art also with which the young insect is coiled up in the egg, presents, where it can be In some insects, the proboscis, or tongue, or examined, a subject of great curiosity. The intrunk, is shut up in a sharp-pointed sheath which sect, furnished with all the members which it sheath, being of a much firmer texture than the ought to have, is rolled up into a form which proboscis itself, as well as sharpened at the point, seems to contract it into the least possible space; pierces the substance which contains the food, by which contraction, notwithstanding the smalland then opens within the wound, to allow the ness of the egg, it has room enough in its apartenclosed tube, through which the juice is extract-ment, and to spare. This folding of the limbs ed, to perform its office. Can any mechanism be plainer than this is; or surpass this?

V. The metamorphosis of insects from grubs

appears to me to indicate a special direction; for, if it were merely the effect of compression, the collocation of the parts would be more various