as well as it can. Sometimes it finds a friend by the way, which lends its assistance, but never waits for it.

The repository, where all is public, and no one thinks of making a separate provision for itself, this repository is made up of several chambers, which communicate with each other by galleries, and which are ali dug so deep, that neither the winter rains or snows can penetrate so far. The subterraneous caverns of citadels are inventions by far more modern and less perfect, and those who have endeavoured to destroy the habitations of such auts, as have had leisure to perfect them, have scarce ever succeeded; the branches of them are extended so far, that they do not feel all the injury that is offered them at first.

When their granaries are full, and the winter comes on, they begin to secure the grain, by [u] biting off the two ends of it, and thereby hindering it from growing. Thus their first food is no other than a care for futurity, and what they are determined to rather by prudence than necessity.

Hence we see what an incomprehensible fund of industry God has placed in this little animal. Thus has he given it a kind of prophetic understanding, to oblige us to recur to him, to whom alone it belongs to work such prodigies, who cannot in my opinion, more sensibly shew us that he is the source of wisdom, than by joining together so many circumstances of it in so small a part of matter, which has no more than the appearance of it.

Can we sufficiently admire the industry of certain animals, who spin with such art and delicacy, that all appears to be the effect of thought and a mathemati cal scheme? Who has taught the spider, an animal in other respects so contemptible, to form such fine threads so equal and so artfully suspended? Who has taught it to begin with fixing them to certain points, to join

[u] Pliny the naturalist makes the same observation upon the industry of the ants, that they lay up corn for the winter, and prevent it from growing, by biting off the

end. Lib. xi. c. 30. Yet this fact is now questioned by some persons, who absolutely deny that the ants lay up any corn.

them

them all in one common center, to draw them first in a right line, and then to strengthen them by circles exactly parallel? Who has told it, that these threads should be a snare to catch other animals that have wings, and that it could not come at them but by stratagem? Who has appointed him in his place in the center, where all the lines meet, and where it is necessarily informed by the lightest motion, that some prey has fallen into his nets? Lastly, who has told him, that his first care then should be to embarrass the wings of that imprudent prey, by new threads, for fear it should still have left some liberty of disengaging and defending itself.

All the world is a witness to the labours of the silkworm. But have the most skilful artists hitherto been able to imitate it? Have they found out the secret of drawing so fine a thread, so strong, so even, so bright and uniform? Have they any materials of greater va lue than this thread for making the richest stuffs? Do they know how this worm converts the juice of the leaf into golden threads? Can they give a reason why a liquid matter, before it has taken the air, should grow strong, and lengthen itself in infinitum, as soon as it comes into it? Can any of them explain how this worm is taught to form itself a retreat under the numberless turnings and windings of silk, which have flowed from itself, and how in this rich grave it finds. a kind of resurrection, which gives it the wings its first birth had refused it?

Every crawling worm becomes a kind of fly, gnat, or butterfly; and first every fly has crawled in its original, and been a kind of worm, caterpillar, or insect, before it had wings; and the middle state between these two extremes of elevation and meanness, is the, time when the animal becomes a cod or bean, which is done a great number of ways, but always in a manner uniform to every species.

I shall conclude this treatise with some observations upon a small animal, which deserves our utmost admiration. Its name is formicalio. It is of an ugly fi

6

gure,

gure, and looks as if it was but half finished; it is of a cruel disposition, for it lives only upon the blood of its prey, aud its sole occupation is to lay traps for it. Its artifice is best seen by having such an animal in one's closet.

It is put into an earthen vessel full of very fine sand, in which it presently hides itself. When it is there, it forms in the sand the shape of a cone reversed, with an exact and geometrical proportion, and takes up its residence in the point of the cone, which is the center of it, but still keeping itself covered. If any ant, or fly, with its wings taken off, is placed at the entrance of the cone, this little animal, which one would not judge capable of the least effort, throws sand forcibly with its head upon the prey it has got an intelligence of, in order to stun it and drag it down to the bottom, where it lies concealed. Then he comes out from the place of his retreat, and after he has quenched his thirst he throws away the carcase, which might render his cruelty suspected.

If one would have the pleasure of seeing him labour a second time, it is but filling up the cone by stirring the vessel, and it is surprising to see with what diligence the little animal makes a new figure as large and regular as the former.

How much reasoning is here required, if this workmanship was founded upon reasoning? Can a mathematician think more curiously, and be better acquainted with the nature of the cone, of the sand, of the motions and the conveyance of their sound from the center to every part of the circumference? It is cer tain that this beast must reason, or some one for it. But the wonder is not, either that it should reason, or a foreign principle reason for it, but that this principle should cause all this to be executed by organs, which move of themselves, and seem to act only by an inward principle.

I must not omit that the formicalio, of which I have just spoken, is transformed into a great and beautiful fly from the little and ugly thing it was at first, and is

no

no longer of the same sanguine humour, when it has cast off its first skin.

THE USEFULNESS OF THESE PHYSICAL OBSERVATIONS.

It is not necessary for me to observe how capable these physical observations, and a great many others of the like nature, are to adorn and enrich the mind of a young man, to make him attentive to the effects of nature, which are constantly before our eyes, and present themselves to us almost every moment without our reflecting upon them; to teach him a thousand curious points relating to sciences, arts and professions, such as chemistry, anatomy, botany, painting, navigation, &c. to give him a taste for gardening, planting, and walking, which is by no means a matter of indifference; to enable him to make an agreeable figure in conversation, and not to be under a necessity either of holding his tongue, or talking only of trifles.

I call this science the physics of children, because in reality we may begin to teach it to them from their infancy, but still with a view to their weakness, and laying nothing before them beyond their capacity, either as to facts, or to the reflections that are joined to them. It is incredible how this small exercise, regularly continued from the age of six or seven years, to that of twelve or fifteen, but still under the name and notion of a diversion and not a study, would fill the minds of the boys with useful and agreeable knowledge, and prepare them for that study of physics, which is proper only to the learned.

But some one will say, where shall we find masters capable of giving a child these instructions which the best among them are often very ignorant of, and which require a large extent of knowledge? The matter is not so difficult as they may be apt to imagine. [x] Tully said jestingly, in an oration, wherein he un[z] Itaque, si mihi, homini vehementer occupato, stomachum moVOL. III.

veritis, triduo me jurisconsultum esse profitebor. Pro Muræn. n. 28.

U

dertook

dertook to lessen the study of the law, that if thes vexed him, as full of business as he was, he would become a lawyer in three days. I might almost say the same thing, not of the physics of the learned, which is a very profound science, but of that which I am here speaking of. It requires no more than to run over the books in which these kinds of observations are to be found, such as for instance are the memoirs of the academy of sciences, where we meet with abundance of very curious remarks upon this subject. I have seen boys, who have been publicly examined in the fourth book of Virgil's Georgics, make a wonderful use of what is said in these memoirs, upon the little but admirable republic of the bees. A master that is curious and studious, will apply to persons of skill, to know what books he should consult upon each subject. These books he either borrows or seeks for in the public libraries; he reads them over, and makes extracts from them, and thereby enables himself to teach his scholars many things that are curious; and he has seven or eight years time to make this small collection. To succeed in it there is nothing wanting but inclination.

ARTICLE IV.

PHILOSOPHY SERVES TO INSPIRE A GREAT RESPECT FOR RELIGION.

ALL that I have hitherto said of physics, very clearly shews, that one of the greatest effects, and the most essential fruit of Philosophy, is to raise man to the knowledge of the greatness, power, wisdom and goodness of God; to render him attentive to his providence, to teach him to ascend up to him, by the consideration of the wonderful works of nature, to make him sensible of his benefits, and point out to him subjects of praise and thanksgiving.

We learn from God himself both in the Old and New Testament, that this is the proper use we ought

to