ABRIDGMENT OF THE CONTEMPLATION OF NATURE
BY Mr. Bonnet, of GENEVA

CHAPTER V
OF THE VARIOUS RELATIONS OF TERRESTRIAL BEINGS

  1.  We have seen, that all is relation in the universe, but we have only hitherto taken a distant view of this fruitful truth. We may now approach nearer to it, and bestow our attention on the most inte­resting particulars.

The union of souls to organized bodies, is the source of the most abundant and most wonderful harmony that exists in nature. A sub­stance without extension, solidity and form, is united to an extended, solid and formed substance. A substance that thinks, and which has a principle of action in it, is united to a substance void of thought and purely passive. From this surprising connexion there springs a reciprocal commerce between the two substances:, a kind of action and -reaction, which constitutes the life of organized, animated beings. The nerves, being variously agitated by objects, communicate their motions to the brain, and to these impulses the perceptions in the soul correspond, which are totally distinct from the cause that occa­sions them.

The rays which proceed from an object strike my optic nerve. I have a perception that points out to me the presence of the object. They affect this nerve in a violent manner: I have a sensation which I express by the term of pain.

The diversity of senses by which the soul receives the impression of objects, produces a diversity in her perceptions and sensations, The sentiments occasioned by the motion of the nerves of sight, differ absolutely from those that are produced by that of the nerves of bearing. The sense of feeling has no likeness to that of taste. These are different modifications of the soul, which correspond to different qualities of the objects.

But how can the nerves, which do not seem susceptible of a greater or less degree of bulk, length, composition, or tension, or of quicker or slower vibrations, occasion in the soul such a prodigious variety of perceptions as we experience? Is there such a relation between the soul and the machine to which it is united, as for certain percep­tions- to correspond continually with the nerves of a determinate size, structure, and tension? Are there nerves appropriated to different corpuscles, to the impression whereof various perceptions are attached? Are the pyramidial form of the papillae of the taste anti feeling, the winding cavities of the ear, the different refrangibilities of the- rays of light, so many proofs of the truth of this? Be that as it may, we are sufficiently convinced that the same sensible fibre is not liable at one and the same time to a multitude of different impressions. But this fibre is not only destined to transmit to the soul the impression of the object; it must also preserve the remembrance o it; for a thousand instances prove that the memory is connected with the brain; how then can it be imagined that the same fibre should at once retain a multitude of different determinations? Nay, how can two such different substances as the soul and body act reciprocally on each other? At this question let us humbly cast our eyes down. wards, and acknowledge this is one of the great mysteries of the creation, which we are not permitted to be acquainted with. The various attempts that have been made by the most profound philosophers, to explain it, are so many monuments raised to convince us both of the extent and weakness of the human mind.

2. The soul, being modified by impressions more or less strong, reacts in her turn on the nervous system, maintains the motions there, and renders them more active or durable. From thence arise the passions, those secret inclinations, those restless appetites, which destroy the equilibrium of the soul, and impel her towards certain objects. These are admirable instruments set to work by the wise Author of our nature; which like favourable winds, cause the animated machines to float on the ocean of sensible objects.

The reaction of the soul on the nervous system, seems also to-be the principal source of divers sensations we experience, several of which come under the denomination of instinct, or moral sense.*

Objects do not strike immediately on the soul. She only receives impressions by interposed mediums. The senses are the mediums. The action of objects, then is modified-by them in a determinate rela­tion, to nature, or to the constitution of each medium. The aptness, either greater or less, wherewith sensible fibres yield to impressions from without, transmit them to the soul arid renew the remembrance of them there, together with the quality, and abundance of’ the humours, constitutes the temper. In animals, temper governs all. In man, reason regulates the temper: and the temper, when under due regulation, facilitates, in its turn, the exercise of reason.

The passions receive nourishment, grow and become strong like the fibres, which are the seat of them. Learn then your temper, if it be vicious, you are to correct it; not to destroy it, for you would thereby destroy the machine itself; but skilfully to divert its course, and carefully to avoid every thing that may contribute to add new strength to it, and swell the waters of such a dangerous torrent.

*The doctrine of the action and reaction of the nervous system, appears to accord with the universal scheme of nature. We discover no process, without a recess; no consequence, without an antecedence; and no state or condition of being, without an abstract; a-s the ethereal appears to be the abstract of the terrestrial state of being: and death the abstract of life. And all the various phenomena we observe in nature, appear to originate in the various modes by which material bodies pass to the alternate states of being.

3.  The senses are not only intended to raise in the soul perceptions of every kind; they likewise -revive memory in her. A percep­tion which is present to the memory does not essentially differ from that which the object excites. This produces perception by means of sensible fibres appropriated to it, and on which its action is dis­played. The collection of perception then depends on a motion which operates in these fibres, independently of the object. For whether the organ receives its motion from intestine causes, or from the object, the effect is the same with regard to the soul, and percep­tion is instantly present to her.

Experience proves, that if any series of perceptions whatever affects the brain for a certain time, it thereby contracts a habit of reproducing it in the same order. It is likewise certain that this habit appertains to the brain, and not to the soul. A burning fever, a ray of the sun, or a violent commotion may destroy it, and such causes influence only the machine.

All perceptions derive their origin from the senses, and the senses transmit to the seat of the soul, the impressions they receive from objects. ‘But objects act on the organ by impulsion only. They impress then certain motions on the sensible fibres. So that a per­ception, or a certain series of perceptions, are connected with one or divers motions which -operate successively on different fibres.

And since the reiteration of the same motions, on the same fibres, effects in them a habitual disposition -to produce them afresh in a constant order, we may infer from thence, that the sensible fibres are so constructed as to produce in them changes or determinations more or less durable, which constitute the precious ground-work of the memory and imagination.

But the sensible fibres are nourished like all the other parts of the body; they assimilate or incorporate with themselves -alimentary matter: they grow, and whilst they receive nourishment, they con­tinue to perform their proper functions. So that ‘nutrition conduces to preserve to the fibres these determinations, and causes them to take root there: for as the fibres increase, they acquire a greater degree of consistence. We may hence discover the origin of custom, that powerful queen of the sensible and intelligent world. The memory, by preserving and recalling to the soul the signs of percep­tion, by assuring her of the identity of the perceptions recalled, and of those which have already affected her, by connecting present per­ceptions with the antecedent ones, forms in the brain a fund of know­ledge, which increases in richness every day.

The imagination, being infinitely superior to a Michael Angelo or a Raphael, delineates in the soul, a faithful image of objects; and from divers representations which it composes, forms in the brain a cabinet of pictures, every part of which moves-, and is combined with an inexpressible variety and swiftness.

The brain of man, then, may be considered as so many mirrors, wherein different portions of the universe are painted in miniature. Some of these mirrors exhibit but a small number of objects; while others represent almost the whole of natures What is the relation between the mirror of the mole and that of a Newton! What images were there in the brain of a Homer, a Virgil, or a Milton? What mechanism must that have been which could execute such wonderful decorations! That mind which could have read the brain of a Homer, Would have there seen the Iliad represented by the various exercise of a million of fibres.

4.  Of all the senses, the sight Is that which furnishes the soul with the quickest, most extensive, and most varied perceptions. It is the fertile source of the richest treasures of imagination, and it is to that principally that the soul owes the idea of beauty, of that varied unity Which ravishes it

But by what secret mechanism are my eyes made capable of communicating to me such lively, varied, and abundant perceptions ? How do I discover with so much ease and quickness every object that surrounds me?

Three humours of different density, each lodged in a transparent capsule, divide the inside of the globe of the eye into three parts, On the bottom is spread a kind of cloth, or very fine membrane, which is only the expansion of a nerve, whose extremity terminates immediately at the brain. A black skin lines the whole inside of the globes At the forepart of it is a round orifice, which contracts or dilates itself according as the light is more or less strong. Six muscles, which are placed on the outside of the globe, move different ways, end the rapidity of those motions is excessive4

What need is there of these humours, this cloth, this tapestry, this’ aperture which contracts and dilates itself? The light comes to us from the sun In a right line: but these rays become crooked, when the density of the mediums through which they pass increases or diminishes. This is called the refraction Of light.

To the property of refracting light, joins that of reflecting from the body it enlightens. There issue then luminous streaks from all points of the objects, which bear the image of’ these points.

The humours of the eye are the lens of the camera obscura: the cloth or retina are the pasteboard. The black skin which hangs Within the ball performs the office of a shutter that excludes the light it extinguishes the rays whose reflection would render the image less distinct; the ball by contracting or dilating itself in proportion to the strength of the light, moderates the action of the rays on the retina: the nerve placed behind this, communicates to the brain the various concussions it receives, to which divers perceptions correspond.

Such are the admirable relations which wisdom has placed between our eyes and the light: those which it has established between light and the surface of different bodies, whence colours proceed, arc not less worthy our attention.

A ray which foils on a glass prism, divides into seven principal rays, each of which bear its proper colour. The oblong image which this refraction produces, affords several coloured stripes, distributed in a regular order. The first, reckoning from the upper part of the image, is red; the second, orange; the third, yellow; the fourth, green; the fifth, blue; the sixth, indigo; the seventh, violet. These stripes do not glare: But the eye passes from one to the other by gradations or shades.

 The rays which bear the highest colours, as the red, orange and yellow, are those that refract or curve the least in the prism. They are also such as reflect the first, on inclining the instrument.

From thence it follows, that each ray has its fixed degree of refran­gibility. Make one of these rays pass through several prisms at the same time, it will afford you no new colours : but it will constantly retain its primitive colour; which is an invincible proof of its immu­tability. Present a lens to seven rays-divided by the prism, you will reunite them into a single ray, which will afford you a round image of a shining white. Take only five or six of these rays with the lens; you will have but a dusky white. Only reunite two rays; you will make a colour, that will partake of both. A stream of light then is a cluster of seven rays, whose reunion forms white, and the division of which produces seven principal and immoveable colours!

What is now the source of that infinite diversity of colours, which embellishes every part of our abode? The particles which compose the surface of bodies, are so many little prisms variously inclined, which break the light, and reflect different colours. Gold divided into very thin plates appears blue, when opposed to broad daylight. The greater or less thickness of the plates contributes them to the diversity of colours. Whence proceeds that beautiful azure which tinges the canopy of heaven? The ground of the heavens is black; this ground viewed through the body of air which surrounds us, must appear blue to us. Whence proceeds this smiling verdure which adorns our fields? The lamellae of the surface of plants are disposed in such a manner, that they remit only green rays, whilst they afford a free passage to others. If green pleases our sight, it is because it holds precisely a medium between the seven principal colours. But who can remain insensible of the care which nature has taken to depart from uniformity in this case, by multiplying in so great a degree the shades of green? You may admire this magnificent rainbow, which delineates at large to you the colours of the prism: the beauty and vivacity of its shades ravish you: you suspect that nature must have been at vast expense to compose this rich girdle. Some drops of water, on which the light breaks and reflects in different angles, are the sole cause of it.

You are struck with the splended gilding of some insects: the rich scales of fishes attract your notice: nature who is always magnificent in design, and frugal in execution, produces these brilliant decorations at a small charge; she only applies a brown, thin skin on a whitish substance: this skin performs the office of varnish to our gilded skins ; it modifies the rays which issue from the substance it covers. The glossy green of the leaves of plants is owing to the same art. They owe their lustre and shades to a fine, smooth, transparent, glossy, and whitish membrane, which clothes a substance that is always of a rough green, and of a stronger or fainter dye. It is this green, modified by this membrane, which constitutes the colour peculiar to leaves of every species.

It is apparently the same with regard to the enamelling of flowers and perhaps likewise to the colouring of fruits. This is a new branch of optics, which were it dived into as it deserves, might be attended with some interesting consequences.

The direct light of the sun, or that of the day only, tinges the leaves, as it colours that of fruits. Leaves, whilst they are enclosed within the bud, are whitish or. yellowish. They preserve this colour, if obliged to grow in a tube of blue paper, where the air and heat may have free access. The plant then stars, as the gardeners term it, sending forth an excessively long and slender stalk, and the leaves unfold themselves, but very imperfectly. The light is in a continual and very rapid motion: it acts perpetually on the surface of bodies, which it penetrates more or less. By its small reiterated strokes on leaves, it modifies the surface of them by little and little, and insen­sibly disposes it to reflect the green colour.

Colours then in objects are only a certain disposition of parts totally distinct from the perceptions which they cause in the soul. It is the same with respect to all our perceptions and sensations. The senses, by presenting to us bodies under different appearances, show us their various qualities; and to these qualities different ideas in the soul correspond. We conclude from hence that the same objects do not affect all sensible beings in an equal manner. It is even doubtful whether two individuals of the same species have precisely the same perceptions in presence of the same object.

Were we to contemplate the world by the organs of all those sen­sible beings which inhabit it, we should perhaps see as many worlds we should employ glasses. What difference would there appear in the mulberry tree, examined through the organs of a silk-worm, from our conception of it! What diversity between the stamina viewed through the eyes of bees, and those which the botanist observes! How extensive would be the knowledge of that being,. who could be acquainted with all these different impressions.*

6. The subtle matter of fire, which is dispersed through all nature, offers to us an infinity of properties: let us confine ourselves to give an account of the most interesting. This matter being subtle, elastic and continually agitated, penetrates all bodies. It warms, dilates, burns, melts, calcines, vitrifies, volatilizes, and dissipates them, accor­ding to the nature of their composition or principles. This subtle element becomes visible only by borrowing a body. It secretly

*This is an elegant index; and well calculated to impress on the mind, the important necessity of making all reasonable and liberal allowance, among men of different sentiments for difference of capacity and perception; and it may be fur­ther remarked, that all degrees of excellence, of space, of magnitude, of quantity, and of quality, exist by comparison, and all comparison by degrees of sensibility; hence we are taught that different sentiments will necessarily-occur, even among honest men, from difference of impression, and difference of capacity.

Could we conceive with the organs of an ephemeron, a single leaf would become a spacious world, interspersed with mountains and valleys, and seem almost of boundless extent; the magnitude of objects, and the extent of space, being proportioned to the powers of conception; and these powers not-only vary in different beings, but they are liable to vary in the same individual with differ­ent circumstances. most striking illustration of this fact we have in the instance of the aged prisoner, who groaned in confinement forty-seven years, between four thick and cold stone walls, in that miserable monument of super­stition and despotism, the Bastile; and who was released by the clemency of the new administration, upon the accession of Louis XVI. to the throne of France. Hardened by adversity, which strengthens both the mind and constitution, when they are not overpowered by it, he had resisted the horrors of his long imprison­ment, with an invincible and manly spirit: his locks white, thin, and scattered, had almost acquired the rigidity of iron; whilst his body environed for so long a time, by a coffin of stone, had borrowed from it a firm and compact habit. The narrow door of his tomb, opened not as usual, by halves, and an unknown voice announced his liberty, and bade him depart. Believing this to be a dream, he hesitated ;- but at length rose up and walked forth with trembling steps, amazed at the space which he traversed. The stairs of the prison, the halls, the court seemed to him vast, immense, and almost without bounds. He stopped from time to time, and gazed around him like a bewildered traveller, his vision was with difficulty reconciled to the clear light of day. He contemplated the heavens as a new object. His eyes remained fixed, and he could not even weep. Stupified by this newly acquired power of changing his position, his limbs, like his tongue, refused in spite of his efforts, to perform their office. His sensibility was changed by long habit, and he had acquired an en new conception of objects; hence it is manifest, that different sensibilities can originate in different circum­stances. 1-fence we may admire the flexibility of the mind, the force of education, and the power of habit.

  unites, itself to an inflammable and unknown substance, and, provided with this body, unites itself to other bodies, and enters into their -corn; position. It is by means of the same union that it becomes Sensible in electrical experiments sometimes in the form of liminous tufts, sometimes in that of crowns, flashes, sparks, and that it fulminates. bursts, strikes, pierces, burns, inflames.

By a gentle agitation, this matter enlivens all organized bodies, conducts them by degrees, to their perfect growth. it foments the branch in the bud, the plant in the grain, the embryo in the egg. It gives suitable preparations to our food. It subdues metals to our use, over the formation of which it presides. By that we are enabled to give matter all those forms which our necessities or conveniences require. To that we are indebted, in a particular manner, for that transparent matter, which being stretched out into thin leaves, or fashioned like tubes, vases, globes, lenses, furnishes us with various instruments, and enriches us with new eyes, which help us to disco ver- the smallest objects, and bring nigh to us the most remote.

From the action of this matter on earth, sulphur, oils, and salts,. ‘the various species of fermentations and mixtures result, which are the objects of the researches of the chemist, and the soul of the three kingdoms. Being concentered by lenses or mirrors of every kind, it acquires, a strength greatly superior to. that of the hottest of our actual fires, and in an instant reduces green wood to ashes, calcines stones, melts and vitrifies metals,

Being excited, collected, condensed, modified, extracted, directed, and applied by electrical machines, it becomes the fruitful source of a thousand phenomena, which art diversifies every day. Sometimes, when extracted from a globe of glass, it runs with an inconceivable rapidity along an iron wire, and causes light bodies, placed at a league distance from the globe, to feel the impression of it. Applied by the same means to paralytic limbs, it restores life and motion to them. Being present in all parts of the atmosphere, it collects itself in stor­my clouds, from whence it is again extracted by art; and a Le Monnier, equal to the fabulous Jupiter, holds the thunderbolt, and dis. poses of it at his pleasure. It is likewise fire that communicates to air and water, when reduced into vapours, that prodigious force which renders them capable of shaking the earth, and breaking the hardest bodies.

Lastly, it is this subtle ‘matter, that by penetrating fluids, preserves to them their fluidity. As it is exact itself; in putting itself in equilibria, it passes from those bodies where it is most abundant, to those where it is least so, and carrying with it the most volatile particles, it deposits them on the surface of the latter, where they appear in the form of vapours, exhalations, or mists.

7. The air, by its fluidity thinness weight, and spring, is next to fire, the most powerful agent in nature. It is one of the great prin­ciples of the vegetation of plants, and of the circulation of liquors in all organized bodies. it is the receptacle of the particles which exhale from different matters: and had we eyes sufficiently piercing, we should see it in the abridgement of all the bodies that exist on the surface of our globe. From vapours and exhalations which it carries  its bosom, and disperses into all parts, are produced aqueous and fiery meteors, which are so useful, but sometimes dreadful.

The air does not only receive bodies: it even enters into their composition. When divested of its elasticity, it unites itself to the

particles which compose them, and augments their bulk. But being more unalterable than gold, it resumes its former nature, when these bodies change or are dissolved.. Being disturbed in its equilibrium, it swells the sails of our ships, and conveys to our countries those rich fleets that cause plenty. becoming impetuous, it causes tempest and hurricanes; but even this impetuosity is not without its use ; the air by this means divests itself of noxious vapours, and the waters being strongly agitated, are preserved from a fatal corruption.

Lastly, the air is the vehicle of sounds and odours, and under these new relations it is essentially allied to two of our senses. The partial vibration which commotion excites in a sonorous body, communicates itself to all the globules of air that immediately encompass this body. These globules cause the like vibrations in those contiguous to them: and this continues in the same manner to greater distances than we are able to determines A fine and elastic- membrane, spread at the bottom of the ear like the parchment of a drum, receives these concussions, and conveys them to three small bones placed end to end, that communicate them in their turn to certain bony and winding cavities, lined on their inside with nervous filaments, which join to the brain by a common trunk. The greater or less degree of swift­ness of these vibrations produces seven principal tones, analogous to the primitive colours. From the combined relation of various tones, harmony proceeds.

The infinitely small particles that are continually detached from the surface of odoriferous bodies, float in the air, which transports them every where, and applies them to the nervous membranes that are distributed in the inside of the nose. The concussions which these corpuscles occasion therein, pass afterward to the brain by the lengthening of the nervous filaments.

8. All climates have their productions : all parts of the earth their inhabitants. From the frozen regions of the bear, to the burning sands of the torrid zone, all is animated. From the top of the moun­tains, to the bottom of the vallies, every thing vegetates and respires. The waters and the air are peopled with an infinite number of inhabitant, Plants and animals are themselves little worlds that-nourish a multitude of people, as different from each other in their figure and inclinations as the great people which are scattered over the surface of our globe. What am I saying? The smallest atom, the least drop of liquor are inhabited. Wonderful harmony, which by thus suiting ‘different productions to different places, leaves none absolutely desert!

9.  A reciprocal commerce connects all terrestrial beings. Inorganized beings answer to organized as to their centre. The latter are designed for each other. Plants are allied to plants. Animals to animals. Animals and plants are linked together- by their mutual services. Behold how closely this young ivy entwines itself round this majestic oak. It draws its substance from it, and its life depends on that of its benefactor. Ye great ones of- the earth, ye represent this oak! Refuse not your support to the indigent: suffer them to approach you, and to obtain from you sufficient to relieve their necessities.

Consider this caterpillar thick set with hair, the birds dare not touch it, notwithstanding which, it serves them for food: by what means? A fly pierces the living caterpillar. She lays her eggs in his body. The caterpillar remains alive. The eggs hatch. The young ones grow at the expense of the caterpillar, and are afterwards changed into flies, which serve for sustenance to the birds.

There are continual wars betwixt animals, but things are so wisely combined, that the destruction of some of them occasions the preser­vation of others, and the fecundity of the species is always proportionable to the dangers that threaten individuals.

10.  All is metamorphosis in the- physical world. Forms are con­tinually changing. The quantity of matter alone is invariable. The same substance passes successively into the three kingdoms. The -same composition becomes by turns a mineral, plant, insect, reptile fish, bird, quadruped, man.

The organized machines are the principle agents of these transformations. They change or dissolve all matters that enter within them, and that are exposed to the action of their secret springs. They, convert some into their own substance; others they evacuate under livers forms, which render these matters proper for entering into the composition of different bodies. Thus, animals that multiply prodigiously, as some species of insects, have perhaps for -their prin­cipal end that of metamorphosing a considerable quantity of matter, for the use of different compounds. By that means the vilest matters give birth to the richest productions: and from the bosom of putre­faction there issues the finest flower, or the most exquisite fruit!

The author of nature has left nothing useless. What is consumed of the dust of the stamina in the generation of plants, is very trifling, if compared with the quantity each flower furnishes. Wisdom itself has then created the industrious bee, that makes use of the superfluous part of this dust with such art and econo­my as could not be too much admired in the most skilful geome­tricians

The earth enriches us every day with new gifts, whereby she would at length be exhausted, if what she supplies us with were not restored to her. By a law, which we do not pay a proper attention to, all organized bodies become uncompounded, and insen­sibly change in the earth. Whilst they suffer this kind of disso­lution, their volatile parts pass into the air which transports them every where So that animals are buried in the atmosphere as well as in the earth arid water; we may even doubt whether that por­tion which the air receives be not the most considerable in bulk. AU these particles dispersed here and there, soon enter into new organical wholes, destined to the same revolutions as the former. And this circulation, which has subsisted from the beginning of the world, will continue as long it endures.

Chapter 6