Dialogue between a Philofopher and his Gardener. the other? If he be not indolent, if he apply himself to labour, he will have no caufe to regret his coming into the world. I am not myfelf difpleased at being here. Par. What! are you happy? Math. Happy? undoubtedly I am happy. Par. Good. You only think fo. Math. Only think fo! Why, I feel plainly enough what I do really feel. Do you mean to make me believe that I am unhappy? Don't attempt that. I am very contented, and particularly pleafed every time my wife is brought to bed, for I am then relieved of a burden. I never complain of what I cannot help. I choose rather to enjoy what God in his goodness grants me, than to vent my complaints in ufelefs murmurs. It was for this reafon that I married, because it is a great pleasure to have a pretty woman for your wife, who loves and careffes you; and a ftill greater to embrace the child whom the fondles on her knees, and nourishes with her milk. Par. Do you know how your child came into the world? Math. Came into the world! Why it came juft the fame way as other children come. The fon of a king cames exactly in the fame manner : It is all a And, zounds, when I think upon it, it is no bad leflon for your great folks. Par. It is not that I mean. How do you think you are able to produce a being like yourself? Math. A pretty fort of a queftion truly! When I plant a tree, I fix the fhoot in the earth, and then leave it; and it grows up when the good God gives it his bleffing. Your fine reafoners, you will obferve, Sir, do not always get the finest children. Par. But what notion have you of the mystery of generation? Math. If it be a myftery, it may remain a mystery for me: I fhall not trouble my head about it. God 223 wishes to conceal his fecrets, fince he performs them under our very eyes without our being able to fee them. Par. But pray, what do you know, or what do you imagine, with regard to this? Math. I neither know any thing, nor imagine any thing, about the matter. I know when it is proper to plant a tree; but how the tree grows, I am ignorant. It is the fame thing with children, I fuppofe. They come into the world we don't know how: but we know how to make them come; and the rest is, in my opinion, of very little confe quence. Par How! of very little confequence? You do not know, then, that this fcience, if well understood, would afford us the means of conducting the human race to the very height of perfection; and that, inftead of the fools whom we now fee in fuch numbers, philofophers only, and men of genius, would cover the face of the earth. Math. But if every body poffeffed genius and philofophy, there would be no more fools; and then who would admire your men of genius and learning? Indeed, indeed, your philofophers would be fairly caught. But we do not want philofophers about us, but men of good hearts, like you, my dear mafter; for you are really a good man. Yet, allow me to tell you, that your actions are much better than your words. Par. Go. If I am not better, it is only because I have not yet fufficient knowledge. But I wish you would tell me freely your ideas concerning generation. Math. I have not a single idea upon the subject, I tell you. You, who are a doctor, ought to inform me of the whole matter. Yet, betwixt us two, it would be better to get a child yourself, than to puzzle your brain about the way it comes into the world. But fince your know ledge is fo great, do explain to me your whole doctrine. I fhall employ my fpade mean while, not to lofe Let us fee. How do you arrange the fabric of men? Were you ever in the manufactory? time. Par. Not quite; but nearly fo. Math. Blefs my foul! What is it you fay, Sir? Par. I have opened two or three hundred fhe-goats after copulation; and by the affiftance of my diffecting knife, I have followed in the ramifications of the veins Math. What! You have, then, made fuch cruel experiments? You have commenced hangman to become philofopher! Inftead of sparing thefe poor animals, you have butchered them for no purpose in the world.— Zounds, this is a pretty way indeed! To think to discover the principle of life by putting animals to death. Par. Your good fenfe charms me. I made this philofophical maffacre with regret; but the defire of knowing nature- Math. Ah! rather remain ignorant like me, and do harm to nothing. Blefs me! were you allowed to proceed, your curiofity might lead you to difembowel our don my freedom—fee the better. par -all only to cracked. You fmile--I never told any body, but I have feen you make experiments which have made me blufh. Par. Upon my word, my friend, I never thought of blufhing. I faw all this with the eye of a philofopher. Math. Go, go; it is not thus that one becomes a philofopher. You are here in the world; and what the devil matter is it how you came! Par. I would wifh to difcover the origin of an animal fo fingular as man. The moment of cafting a ftatue, is the very moment which impreffes upon it that grace and beauty which is afterwards to charm the beholder. Now, if we knew the mould of the human race, we might fafhion it at our pleasure; and art here, as well as in other things, might come in to the affiftance of nature. If you knew every thing that has been imagined on this fubject, you would, doubtlefs, forgive my experiments. Math. Well, inform me of all this. Par. Hear, then, my friend: It wanted but little that you and all mankind had never existed. Math. Oh! oh! this is a comical flory upon my word.—— -The world has had a lucky efcape of it! But how happened all this? Par. We must proceed in order. Liften attentively. There are millions upon millions of germs, more innumerable than the grains of duft, which, though formed for developing themfelves, yet perish, and will never rife to life. Your germ, whether luckily or unluckily for you, I can. not tell, has developed itself. Math. I am not forry for it.. Par. You have increased in bulk, you have acquired fenfations, while millions of others have funk into nonexiftence. Every thing depended upon the first man; and the universe itfelf has originally been only a par3 ticular Dialogue between a Philofopher and his Gardener. icular germ favoured among millions of others. Math. What! has the world grown up just as I have done? Do you really believe this? Par. I do indeed. The world may have arisen from a germ not so large as an egg. Math. [laughing] How droll a thing philofophy is! And the hen which laid this egg! Par. The fun, the moon, the earth, the fea, the prefent and all future generations, depended all of them, I tell you, like yourself, upon a very few things. Math. [laughing louder.] Upon the hen; upon the hen? Par. Yes; you, for inftance, you were in your father; and your father and you along with him were in your grandfather; and your grandfather and your father and you were in your great grandfather; and your great-grandfather, and your greatgreat grandfather, and your greatgreat-great-grandfather, and you, were in the loins of our father Adam, when he walked in the garden. Math. Then I walked along with him? Blefs my foul and body! I have not deferted the vocation of my father. I am always in the garden. Par. Very right. But upon what did you depend then, you and the reft of mankind? Math. O Lord! I was fo little then! Par. And do you think yourself greater now? How miferably you are mistaken! What is your figure of five feet fix upon the face of the globe? Scarcely have you appeared, when you are effaced. The first step which your fon makes pushes you to the tomb. There is no repofe in nazure; the path of life is the path to death: the refiftlefs course of things kurries you along: you fuffer by your existence, and you fhall die by neceffity. VOL. II. N° 10. 225 Math. Excellent confolation indeed! Is this what you call philofophy? It is at least not decked in the colours of the rose. Par. You would not choofe to be deceived? Math. No. Par. Attend, then, to the truth. Math. Let us fee, for once, of what complexion fhe is. Par. You are like the flowers which you rear. Math. What! I? Par. Yes. You are a walking plant: They are produced, they grow, they decay and perish in your garden, by the fame laws which make you live. Math. So I am a walking plant? Par. Undoubtedly. Your ftomach, which you fill with grofs food, reprefents the roots which, placed in the earth, imbibe the juice which makes them grow and live. The flowers refpire and transpire, just as you do, nourish themselves, and throw off their fuperfluities juft as you do; they embrace each other under your very eyes; they make love. Math. My flowers make love! This is a new mystery indeed. Par. Yes; ignorant as thou art, who haft eyes and cannot fee. Math. How, Sir? Par. Lay down your fpade, draw near, and learn to refpect philofophy. Math. I comprehend nothing of it; I ought, therefore, to refpect it. Par. Contemplate the calix of that tulip; behold the fummit of the stamen; or rather that male flowret, which bends amorously towards the female flowret, and endeavours to dart forward its farina. You difcover every where the eagerness of the male flowret to approach the flowret of the other fex. wish to be an eye-witness of the sport itself, take a male flowret properly clofed, prefs it fuddenly and neatly, and you will fee a duty fmoke inFf tantly if you ftantly evaporate, and which will cover the piftil. The flowers are generated thus, by the fame principle by which you yourself came into the world. The fame is the cafe with minerals. The ftones are produced in the fame manner as man. They all require a matrix, a cover, a ftring, and a placenta. Math. Amazing! My very head turns at these names. Pray, Sir, did my spade come into the world thro' the fame channel with myself? Par. Yes; and the iron in the mine has developed itfelf by the fame laws with your body. This innume rable multitude of funs, and habitable worlds, which I explained to you the laft time Math, O yes, I remember, I remember. I dreamed the whole night of stars which were bigger than our village. Par. Remember, then, my leffons. All this immenfe fyftem, I tell you, may once have been contained in a fingle grain not fo large as a pea. Math. You might at leaft fay a bean, mafter. Par. No. The milky way, which I fhowed you through my telescope, is a bundle of little worlds, which have burft their fhell only about 60 or 80 years ago. Stars if fue from the womb of ftars. The greatest globe in the fyftem of the univerfe has had a germ as well as the fly, as well as the most diminutive infect which is the fport of the winds. The winds themfelves fcat. ter the univerfal feeds of existence. Math. And fhake my apricots. Par. What is this to the purpofe? Don't interrupt me. It appears, that Venus has lately engendered a new fatellite: Our earth formerly begot the moon; a people, called the Egyptians, had the certificate of her birth, which certificate is fince unfortunately loft. But the earth is not yet fo old, but that fhe may pro create a fecond moon. Math. Which will fupply the place of thofe lantherns, for which we now pay fo dear. Will we get back our money, then, Sir? Par. People never return money, let what will happen. Math. Then you had better employ yourself in devifing fome method to get the money back, than in racking your brain with the notion that the ftars get children. Par. What! will the grofsnefs of the world, then, hinder you from perceiving, that every thing goes on in the univerfe at large juft as in your garden; that the fun engenders funs, just as the grain of the grain of your falads engenders falads? Reflect then, that, if all mankind were to perish, you alone might be fufficient for their reproduction. Math. I alone, Sir? Par. Yes; you and your wife tagether. Math. Indeed! No more of this, for God's fake. Par You are a univerfe in minia ture. The univerfe is only a great living being, fubject to the fame laws which govern you. Nay, at botter, what we call great or little, is only an illufion of the eyes. The moment you exift you are as great as the greateft thing in the world: There is no longer any ftandard by which you can be measured. You are a part at the fame time and the whole. Math. May the devil fetch me, if I understand a fyllable of this. Par. Liften, I beg of youSometimes a vertex fails fick, diffolves, and begins to rot like one of your peaches; at another time it enjoys all the vigour of youth. Its du ration reaches to fome millions of years; you die at eighty, or a hun, dred; this is all the difference. The vortex may have originated from an egg as well as you. Math, Dialogue between a Philofopher and his Gardener. Par. Undoubtedly. This is the common origin of all beings, of a fun equally and a fly. 227 Math. So, I too myself proceedings are alive, why do they all fa ed from an egg ? crifice themselves for the production of a fingle, and the fame animal? lf they are alive, let them frolic it away by themselves; if dead, their reunion cannot revive them. Befides, there' muft be fomething which unites them, like cement in a building. Where is the cement of your organical molecula? I confefs I am ftill in the clouds. Math. I began to exift, then, in clofed in a thell? I don't much like this fort of imprisonment. I am afraid of having a beak.. I would rather choofe to adopt their opinion, who break all thefe eggs in pieces, and who leave me a broad face, without any prominence. Par. Not badly reafonedI knew we would make fomething of you. You like the notion of organical moleculæ better, then? Math. Pray, what fort of things are these, Sir? par Par. They are fmall fimilar ticles of matter, which make up among them a Lofe, an arm, a foot, á finger, a toe; and which coalefce by affinity. Math. By affinity! What does that mean? I comprehend nothing of it, Sir-I comprehend nothing. Par. Why, fome of thefe particles are quicker, fome flower. The alert eye, accordingly, and the vigilant nofe, get the ftart of all the lazy eyes and loitering nofes. They arrange themselves with wonderful nicety in their mould, except when they come in pais, and are of equal ftrength; for there is, in that cafe, a ftout battle, which ends commonly in pro ducing a monster with two heads or four arms. But, for the most part, these moleculæ, like well-bred people, who never pretend to feat themselves in an arm-chair which is already occupied, either range themfeives tideways, or retire altogether, when they find there is no room. Thefe particles take each their respective ftations, under the fame form which they had in the individual whence they flowed. Upon this individual they model themfelves. Math... But if all thefe little be. Par. If you do not like this fyflem, what think you of primitive particles of matter, endowed with fenfe and intelligence? The fuppofition is eafy; and they may form a co-ordinate ferics among themfelves, in proportion to their maffes and the degrees of their force, according to the ideas they have conceived. Math. This is Hebrew to me, and, perhaps, to you too. Par. Well, what think you then of the theory of fucceffive progresfion by Math. I won't get a child the more with all these fine words. Par. Or will this other not do for you, of the brain forming by degrees the reft of the machine? Math. I don't care a farthing for all they can fay upon the subject. Par. Here is another, then, to fatisfy you. How do you like the notion of a full formed man.compreffed into the fmalleft compass imaginable, and dilating himself in proportion to the contraction he experiences?? Math. Stop. I understand this a little better, though not quite clearly. Par. Well, then, will the feminal animalcules please you, which are difperfed every where through the air, which we fwallow when we are hungry, and which prove afterwards fo favourable to the operations of love? You can diftinguish celery from another plant? 1 Math. When you come to celery, I can understand the meaning of it. But Lwill drefs a fallad for you Ff2 to |