[AG]Leibnitz mentions a dog which had been taught to pronounce several German and French words.
[AG]Leibnitz mentions a dog which had been taught to pronounce several German and French words.
As all language supposes a chain of thought, it is on that account that brute animals have no speech, for even allowing something in them which resembles our first apprehensions, our most gross and mechanical sensations, they still will be found incapable of forming that association of ideas which can alone produce reflection; and in this consists the essence of thought. To this inability of connecting and separating ideas it is that they are destitute of thought and speech, as also that they neither can invent nor improve any thing. Were they endowed with the power of reflection, even in the most subordinate degree, they would be capable of making some kind of proficiency, and acquire more industry; the modern beaver would build with more art and solidity than the ancient; and the bee would daily be adding new improvements to its cell; for if we suppose this cell as perfect already as it can be, we ascribe to the insect an intelligence superior to our own; by which it could discern at once the last degree of perfection to which its work might be carried, while we ourselves are for ever in the dark as to this degree, and stand in need of much reflection, time, and practice, in order to perfect even one of our most trivial arts.
Whence can arise the uniformity that is in all the works of animals? Why does each species invariably perform the same actions in the same manner? And why does not one individual perform them better or worse than another? Can there be a stronger proof that their operations are merely the effects of mechanism and materiality? If they possessed the smallest spark of that light which is inherent in mankind, their works would display variety at least, if not perfection, and one individual would, in its performance, make some little difference from what another had done. But this is far from being the case. One plan of action is common to the whole species, and whoever would attribute a mind or soul to animals, must of necessity allow but one to each species, of which each individual would be an equal partaker, and as thereby it would be divisible, it would consequently be material, and of a nature widely different from ours.
Why, on the other hand, are the productions and performances of men so various, and so diversified? Why is a servile imitation more troublesome to us than an original design? It is because our souls are our own, and independent of any other, and because we have nothingin common with our species but the matter which forms our body, and in which our resemblance to brute animals is confined.
Were internal sensations dependent on corporeal organs, should we not see as remarkable difference in the works of animals of the same species as in those of men? Would not those which were the most happily organized, build their nests and contrive their cells in a manner more solid, elegant, and commodious? And if any individual possessed a superior genius, would it not take an opportunity to manifest that superiority in its actions? But nothing of this kind has ever happened, and therefore the corporeal organs, however perfect or imperfect, have no influence on the nature of the internal sensations. Hence we may conclude, that animals have no sensations of this kind; that such sensations have no connection with matter, no dependence in their nature on the texture of corporeal organs, and that of consequence there must be a substance in man different from matter, which is the subject and the cause that produces and receives those sensations.
But these proofs of the immateriality of the human mind may be carried still farther. Inall the works of nature there are imperceptible gradations maintained. This truth, which in no other instance admits of exception, is here expressly contradicted. Between the faculties of man and those of the most perfect animal the distance is infinite; an evident proof that man is of a different nature from the brute species, and that of himself he forms a distinct class, between which and that of animals there is an immense chasm. If man belonged to the class of animals, there would be a certain number of beings in nature less perfect than man, and more perfect than beast, in order to complete the gradation from a man to the monkey. But this is not the case; the transition is immediate from the thinking being to the material being; from intellectual faculties to mechanical powers; from order and design to blind motion; from reflection and choice to sensual appetite.
Enough has been here advanced to demonstrate the excellence of our nature, and of the immense distance which the bounty of the Creator has placed between man and the brute. The former is a rational being, the latter a being devoid of reason. And as there is no medium between the positive and the negative,between the rational and irrational being, it is evident that man is of a nature entirely different from that of the animal; that all the resemblance he bears to it is merely external; and that to judge of him by this resemblance, is wilfully to shut our eyes against that light, by which we ought to distinguish truth from falsehood.
Having thus considered man as to his internal properties, and proved the immateriality of his soul; we shall now proceed to examine his external part, and give the history of his body. We have already traced him from his formation to his birth, and after taking a view of the different ages of his life, we shall conduct him to that period when he must be separated from his body, and then resign him to the common mass of matter to which he belongs.
CHAPTER II.
OF INFANCY.
Nothing can give us a more striking idea of imbecility, than the condition in which an infant appears on its first entrance into the world. Incapable of making use of its organs,or senses, the infant is in want of every assistance. It is an image of pain and misery; it is more helpless than the young of any other animal; it seems as if every moment would finish its doubtful existence; it can neither move nor support itself; hardly has it strength enough to exist or announce, by its cries, the sufferings it experiences; as if nature chose to apprise it, that it was born to suffer, and that it has obtained a place among the human species to partake of its infirmities and sorrows.
Let us not disdain to consider that state through which we have all passed; let us view human kind in the cradle; let us enquire by what degrees this delicate machine, this new-born and hardly existing body, acquires motion, consistency, and strength.
The infant at its birth comes from one element into another. On emerging from its watery residence in the womb, it becomes exposed to the air, and instantly experiences the impressions of that active fluid. The air acts upon the olfactory nerves and upon the organs of respiration, and thereby produces a shock, a kind of sneezing which expands the chest, and allows the air a passage into the lungs; the vesicles of which it dilates, and the air remainingfor some time becomes warm and rarified to a certain degree; after which this spring of the fibres thus dilated re-acts upon this light fluid, and expels it from the lungs. Instead of undertaking to explain the causes of the alternate motion of respiration, we shall confine ourselves to an elucidation of its effects. This function is essential to the existence of man and of several species of animals. It is by respiration that life is preserved; and when it is once begun, it never ceases till death. Yet there is reason to believe that the foramen ovale is not closed immediately after the birth; and of consequence a part of the blood may continue to pass through that aperture. All the blood cannot, therefore, at first have a communication with the lungs; and it is probable a new-born child might sustain a privation of air for a considerable time without losing its existence. Or at least the possibility of this, I once seemingly confirmed fey an experiment upon some young dogs. I put a pregnant bitch, of the large greyhound species, just as she was about to litter, into a tub filled with warm water, where after fastening her in such a manner that the lower parts were covered with some water, she brought forth three puppies, which were accordinglyreceived into a liquid as warm as they had left. After washing them in this water, I removed the puppies, without giving them time to breathe, into a smaller tub filled with warm milk; I chose milk in order that they might receive nourishment if they required it. In this milk they were kept immersed above half an hour: and when taken out they were all found alive. They began to breathe, and to discharge some moisture by the mouth. Having allowed them to respire for half an hour, I again put them into warm milk, and left them a second half-hour; at the expiration of which two of them were taken out vigorous and seemingly no wise incommoded, but the third appeared rather in a languishing state; this I caused to be carried to the mother, which by this time had produced, in the natural way, six other puppies; and though it had been brought forth in water and had lived in milk one half hour before, and another after it had breathed, it yet received so little injury from the experiment, that it presently recovered and was as strong and lively as the rest of the litter. After allowing the other two about an hour to breathe, I put them once more into the warm milk, in which they remained another half hour. Whetherthey swallowed any of this liquor or not is uncertain; but on being taken out they appeared nearly as vigorous as ever. After being carried to the mother, however, one died the same day; but whether by any accident, or by what it had suffered while immersed in the liquid, and deprived of air, I could not determine. The other lived, as well as the first, and both throve equally with those which had not gone through the same trials. This experiment I never carried farther; but I saw enough to convince me that respiration is less necessary to a new-born, than to a grown animal; and that it might be possible, with proper precautions, to keep the foramen ovale from being closed, and thus produce excellent divers, and different kinds of amphibious animals, which might live equally in air or in water.
The air, on its first admission into the lungs, generally meets with some obstacle, occasioned by a liquid collected in the wind-pipe. This obstacle is more or less great, in proportion as the liquid is more or less viscous. At its birth, however, the infant raises its head, which before reclined on its breast, and by this movement the canal of the wind-pipe is lengthened, the air obtains a place, and forces the liquid intothe lungs: and by dilating the bronchia, it distributes over their coats the mucous substance which opposes its passage. The superfluity of this moisture is presently dried up by the renewal of the air; or, if the infant is incommoded by it, it coughs, and at length relieves itself by expectoration, which, as it has not yet the strength to spit, is seen to flow from the mouth.
As we remember nothing of what happened to us at this period, it is impossible to determine what feelings the impression of air produces in a new-born infant. Its cries, however, the instant it first draws breath, are pretty certain signs of the pain it feels from the action of the air. Till the moment of its birth, the infant is accustomed to the mild warmth of a tranquil liquid; and we may suppose, that the action of a fluid, whose temperature is unequal, gives too violent a shock to the delicate fibres of its body. By warmth and by cold it seems to be equally affected; in every situation it complains, and pain appears to be its first, its only sensation.
For some days after they are brought into the world, most animals have their eye-lids closed. Infants open them the moment of their birth,but they are fixed and dull; they want that lustre which they afterwards acquire; and when they move, it is rather an accidental roll than an act of vision. The pupil of the eye is seen to dilate, or contract, in proportion to the quantity of light it receives, yet is incapable of distinguishing objects, because the organs of vision are still imperfect; the tunica cornea, or horny tunicle is wrinkled, and perhaps the retina is also too soft to receive the images of external objects, and admit the sense of seeing.
The same remark is equally applicable to the other senses; they have not acquired that consistency which is necessary to their operations; and even when they have, a long time must elapse before the sensations of the infant can be just and complete. The senses are so many instruments which we must learn to employ. Of these sight, which seems to be the noblest and the most admirable, is also the most uncertain and delusive; and were its effects not every moment corrected by the testimony of touching we should constantly be misled and draw false conclusions. This sense of touching is the measure and criterion of all the others; it alone is essential to the animal's existence; and isalone diffused universally over its body. Yet, even this sense, in an infant just born, is imperfect; by its cries, indeed, it gives indication of pain; but it has no expression to denote pleasure. It is forty days before it begins to smile; about the same time also it begins to weep; its former expressions of pain being unaccompanied with tears. On the countenance of a new born infant there appears no vestige of the passions, the features of the face not having acquired that consistence and form which are necessary for expressing the sentiments of the soul. All the other parts of its body are alike feeble and delicate; its motions are unsteady and uncertain; it is unable to stand upright; its legs and thighs are still bent, from the habit it contracted in the womb; it has not strength enough to stretch forth its arms or to grasp any thing with its hands; and, if abandoned, it would remain on its back, without being able to turn itself.
From all which it appears, that the pain felt by infants soon after their birth, and which they express by crying, is a sensation merely corporeal, similar to that of other animals, who also cry the minute they are brought forth; as also, that the mental sensations do not begin tomanifest themselves till forty days have elapsed; smiling and weeping being produced by two internal sensations, which both depend on the action of the mind. The former is the effect of an agreeable emotion, which can only arise from the sight, or resemblance of an object known, beloved, and desired; the latter is that of a disagreeable impression, compounded of sympathy, and anxious concern for ourselves; both imply a certain degree of knowledge, as well as an ability to compare, and to reflect. Smiles and tears, therefore, are signs peculiar to the human species, for expressing mental pleasure or pain; while cries, and the other signs of bodily pain and pleasure, are common to man, and to the greatest part of the animal creation.
But let us return to the material organs and affections of the body. The size of an infant born at the full time, is usually about twenty-one inches; this is not without exception, some falling short of and others exceeding this measurement. In children of twenty-one inches, the breast, measured by the length of the sternum, is nearly three inches; and in those of fourteen, only two inches. At nine months, the fœtus generally weighs from twelve to fourteenpounds. The head is large in proportion to the rest of the body; but this disproportion gradually wears off as the size of the child increases. Its skin is very soft, and from its transparency, by which the blood beneath appears, it is also of a reddish cast. It is even pretended, that those children whose skins are the most red when born, will afterwards be the fairest, and the most beautiful.
The form of the body and the members of a new born infant, are by no means perfect: all the parts are too round, and even when the child is in good health, they seem swelled. At the end of three days, there generally appears a kind of jaundice; and at this time there is generally milk in the breasts of the infants, which is squeezed out with the fingers. The superfluous juices, and the swelling of the different parts diminish by degrees, as the child increases in growth.
In some children just born, the brain-pan may be observed to palpitate; and in all, the action of the sinuses, or arteries of the brain, may be felt at this place. Over this aperture is formed a kind of scurf, which is sometimes very thick, and must be rubbed with brushes in proportion as it begins to dry. This matter seems to have some analogy with that of thehorns of some animals, which also derive their origin from an aperture of the skull, and from the substance of the brain. We shall hereafter take an opportunity to shew, that the extremities of the nerves become solid by being exposed to the air, and that it is this nervous substance produces claws, nails, horns, &c.
The fluid contained in the amnios leaves a viscous, whitish matter upon the infant, which is sometimes so adhesive, that it must be diluted with some mild liquid before it can be removed. In this country we never wash the infant but in warm water; yet there are whole nations, who inhabit climates much more severe than ours, that plunge their children into cold water the minute they are born, without their suffering the least injury. The Laplanders are even said to leave their infants in snow, till by the cold their respiration is nearly stopped, and then plunge them into a bath of warm water. They are treated thus roughly thrice every day during the first year, and afterwards as often every week, do they undergo an immersion in cold water. The people of the North are persuaded that the practice of cold bathing renders men more healthy and robust; and it is for this reason they enure their progeny to it from their birth.The truth is, we are ignorant with the extent of what our body is capable of suffering, acquiring, or losing by the power of habit. The Indians in the isthmus of America, for example, receive no injury from plunging into cold water when in a sweat; and as the most speedy remedy for intoxication, the women throw their husbands into the river when they are drunk; the minute after delivery, mothers scruple not to bathe in cold water with their infants, and yet dangerous as we should consider this practice, these women are rarely known to die in child-bearing.
A few minutes after birth the infant discharges urine, and this generally when it feels the heat of the fire: and sometimes also the meconium or excrement which have been collected in the intestines during its residence in the matrix. This last evacuation is not always performed so soon, but if it does not happen in the course of the first day, the child is often affected with a pain in the bowels; in which case methods are taken to facilitate the discharge. The meconium is black, and when the infant is effectually eased of it, the subsequent stools are of a whitish cast. This change generally happens on the second or third day, and then the excrement becomes more fœtid than themeconium; a proof that the bile and other bitter humours of the body begin to intermix with it. This fact tends to support our former remark, that the fœtus did not receive any food by its mouth, but received all its nourishment by absorption.
The infant is allowed time to throw off the slime and meconium, which are in its bowels and intestines, before it is allowed to suck. As these substances might sour the milk, and produce bad effects, it is first made to swallow a little wine and sugar, in order to fortify the stomach, and to procure such evacuations as may be necessary to prepare it for receiving and digesting its food; nor ought it to receive the breast till 10 or 12 hours after the birth.
Hardly has the infant left the womb of its mother, and enjoyed the liberty of extending its limbs, when it is again put into a more cruel confinement. The head of the helpless infant is fixed to one position; its arms and legs put in strict bondage, and it is laced with bandages so strait as not to be able to move a single joint. Well is it when the compression is not so great as to obstruct the respiration, or that the midwife has taken the precaution to lay it upon its side, that the natural moisture may emit of itself from the mouth, since it isdenied the power of turning its head in order to facilitate this emission. Do not then those nations act more wisely than we who cover or clothe their children without shackling them in swathing-bands? the Siamese, the Japanese, the Indians, the Negroes, the Savages of Canada, of Virginia, or Brazil, and almost all the inhabitants of South America, lay their infants naked upon a suspended bed of cotton or put them into their cradles lined with fur. Those practices are certainly liable to less inconveniences than ours. In swaddling a child, it is impossible but the restraint must give it uneasiness; and the efforts it makes to disentangle itself have a greater tendency to injure the form of the body, than any position it might assume was it left at full liberty. Swathing-bands may be compared to stays, which young girls are made to wear in order to preserve their shapes, but which nevertheless occasion more diseases and deformities than they are supposed to prevent.
If the efforts which children make for liberty, when confined in the swaddling-clothes, are hurtful, the inaction in which they are held by it, is perhaps still more so. Want of exercise naturally retards the growth of their limbs, and diminishes the strength of their bodies;and of consequence such children as enjoy the liberty of moving at pleasure, must be the most vigorous. It was for this reason that the ancient Peruvians gave their infants the full freedom of their arms in a swathing-bag; afterwards, as their children grew, they put them up to the middle in a hole dug in the earth, and lined with linen; by this method they had their arms free, and could move their heads and bend their bodies, without falling or hurting themselves. So soon as they were able to step, they were presented with the breast, at a little distance, as an incentive for them to walk. The children of Negroes are often exposed to much greater fatigues, in order to come at the nipple, they cling round one of their mother's haunches with their legs, and support themselves without any assistance from her; seizing the breast they continue to suck in perfect safety, notwithstanding she is all the while in motion, or at work. These children begin to walk, or rather creep on their knees and hands, in the second month; and this exercise qualities them for running afterwards in this manner, almost as nimble as they do upon their feet.
END OF THE THIRD VOLUME.
T. Gillet, Printer, Wild Court.
Transcriber's NoteAll paragraphs split by illustrations were rejoined.All obvious typographical errors were corrected.In theTable of Contents,Chapter VI's starting page was corrected to81.On pagepage 203, the word sospetare was changed to sospettare.Chapter XI(p. 260) was mislabeled as "IX" and was corrected.Likewise,Chapter II(page 334) was mislabeled "III" and was corrected.Otherwise, all text is as presented in the printed version.
Transcriber's Note
All paragraphs split by illustrations were rejoined.
All obvious typographical errors were corrected.
In theTable of Contents,Chapter VI's starting page was corrected to81.
On pagepage 203, the word sospetare was changed to sospettare.
Chapter XI(p. 260) was mislabeled as "IX" and was corrected.
Likewise,Chapter II(page 334) was mislabeled "III" and was corrected.
Otherwise, all text is as presented in the printed version.