the urinary fluid, while the sac is a sort of urinary bladder.

Restricting our attention to the phenomena which have now been described, and to a short period in the life of the crayfish, the body of the animal may be regarded as a factory, provided with various pieces of machinery, by means of which certain nitrogenous and other matters are extracted from the animal and vegetable substances which serve for food, are oxidated, and are then delivered out of the factory in the shape of carbonic acid gas, guanin, and probably some other products, with which we are at present unacquainted. And there is no doubt, that if the total amount of products given out could be accurately weighed against the total amount of materials taken in, the weight of the two would be found to be identical. To put the matter in its most general shape, the body of the crayfish is a sort of focus to which certain material particles converge, in which they move for a time, and from which they are afterwards expelled in new combinations. The parallel between a whirlpool in a stream and a living being, which has often been drawn, is as just as it is striking. The whirlpool is permanent, but the particles of water which constitute it are incessantly changing. Those which enter it, on the one side, are whirled around and temporarily constitute a part of its individuality; and as they leave it on the other side, their places are made good by new comers.

THE WHIRLPOOL OF LIFE.

85

Those who have seen the wonderful whirlpool, three miles below the Falls of Niagara, will not have forgotten the heaped-up wave which tumbles and tosses, a very embodiment of restless energy, where the swift stream hurrying from the Falls is compelled to make a sudden turn towards Lake Ontario. However changeful in the contour of its crest, this wave has been visible, approximately in the same place, and with the same general form, for centuries past. Seen from a mile off, it would appear to be a stationary hillock of water. Viewed closely, it is a typical expression of the conflicting impulses generated by a swift rush of material particles.

Now, with all our appliances, we cannot get within a good many miles, so to speak, of the crayfish. If we could, we should see that it was nothing but the constant form of a similar turmoil of material molecules which are constantly flowing into the animal on the one side, and streaming out on the other.

The chemical changes which take place in the body of the crayfish, are doubtless, like other chemical changes, accompanied by the evolution of heat. But the amount of heat thus generated is so small and, in consequence of the conditions under which the crayfish lives, it is so easily carried away, that it is practically insensible. The crayfish has approximately the temperature of the surrounding medium, and it is, therefore, reckoned among the cold-blooded animals.

If our investigation of the results of the process of

alimentation in a well-fed Crayfish were extended over a longer time, say a year or two, we should find that the products given out were no longer equal to the materials taken in, and the balance would be found in the increase of the animal's weight. If we inquired how the balance was distributed, we should find it partly in store, chiefly in the shape of fat; while, in part, it had been spent in increasing the plant and in enlarging the factory. That is to say, it would have supplied the material for the animal's growth. And this is one of the most remarkable respects in which the living factory differs from those which we construct. It not only enlarges itself, but, as we have seen, it is capable of executing its own repairs to a very considerable extent.

CHAPTER III.

THE PHYSIOLOGY OF THE CRAYFISH-THE MECHANISM BY

WHICH THE LIVING ORGANISM ADJUSTS ITSELF TO

SURROUNDING CONDITIONS AND REPRODUCES ITSELF.

If the hand is brought near a vigorous crayfish, free to move in a large vessel of water, it will generally give a vigorous flap with its tail, and dart backwards out of reach; but if a piece of meat is gently lowered into the vessel, the crayfish will sooner or later approach and devour it.

If we ask why the crayfish behaves in this fashion, every one has an answer ready. In the first case, it is said that the animal is aware of danger, and therefore hastens away; in the second, that it knows that meat is good to eat, and therefore walks towards it and makes a meal. And nothing can seem to be simpler or more satisfactory than these replies, until we attempt to conceive clearly what they mean; and, then, the explanation, however simple it may be admitted to be, hardly retains its satisfactory character.

For example, when we say that the crayfish is "aware of danger," or "knows that meat is good to eat," what

66

do we mean by "being aware and knowing"? Certainly it cannot be meant that the crayfish says to himself, as we do, "This is dangerous," "That is nice; for the crayfish, being devoid of language, has nothing to say either to himself or any one else. And if the crayfish has not language enough to construct a proposition, it is obviously out of the question that his actions should be guided by a logical reasoning process, such as that by which a man would justify similar actions. The crayfish assuredly does not first frame the syllogism, "Dangerous things are to be avoided; that hand is dangerous; therefore it is to be avoided;" and then act upon the conclusion thus logically drawn.

But it may be said that children, before they acquire the use of language, and we ourselves, long after we are familiar with conscious reasoning, perform a great variety of perfectly rational acts unconsciously. A child grasps at a sweetmeat, or cowers before a threatening gesture, before it can speak; and any one of us would start back from a chasm opening at our feet, or stoop to pick up a jewel from the ground, "without thinking about it." And, no doubt, if the crayfish has any mind at all, his mental operations must more or less resemble those which the human mind performs without giving them a spoken or unspoken verbal embodiment.

If we analyse these, we shall find that, in many cases, distinctly felt sensations are followed by a distinct desire to perform some act, which act is accordingly performed;