INSTINCTS. 
171 
duced, was to be preserved and taken care of. Prior to 
experience, there was nothing to lead to this inference, or 
to this suspicion. The analogy was all against it; for, in 
every other instance, what issued from the body, was cast 
out and rejected. 
But, secondly, let us suppose the egg to be produced 
into day; how should birds know that their eggs contain 
their young? there is nothing, either in the aspect, or in the 
internal composition of an egg, which could lead even the 
most daring imagination to conjecture, that it was here¬ 
after to turn out from under its shell, a living, perfect 
bird. The form of the egg bears not the rudiments of a 
resemblance to that of the bird. Inspecting its contents, 
we find still less reason, if possible, to look for the result 
which actually takes place. If we should go so far, as, 
from the appearance of order and distinction in the dis¬ 
position of the liquid substances which we noticed in the 
egg, to guess that it might be designed for the abode and 
nutriment of an animal, (which would be a very bold hy¬ 
pothesis,) we should expect a tadpole dabbling in the slime, 
much rather than a dry, winged, feathered creature; a 
compound of parts and properties impossible to be used in 
a state of confinement in the egg, and bearing no conceiv¬ 
able relation, either in quality or material, to anything ob¬ 
served in it. From the white of an egg, would any one 
look for the feather of a goldfinch? or expect from a sim¬ 
ple uniform mucilage, the most complicated of all ma¬ 
chines, the most diversified of all collections of substances? 
nor would the process of incubation, for sometime at least, 
lead us to suspect the event. Who that saw red streaks 
shooting in the fine membrane which divides the white 
from the yolk, would suppose that these were about to be¬ 
come bones and limbs? Who that espied two discolored 
points first making their appearance in the cicatrix, would 
have had the courage to predict, that these points were to 
grow into the heart and head of a bird? It is difficult to 
strip the mind of its experience. It is difficult to resusci¬ 
tate surprise, when familiarity has once laid the sentiment 
asleep. But could we forget all that we know, and which 
our sparrows never knew, about oviparous generation: 
could we divest ourselves of every information, but what we 
derive from reasoning upon the appearance or quality 
discovered in the objects presented to us, I am convinced 
that Harlequin coming out of an egg upon the stage, is not 
more astonishing to a child, than the hatching of a chick¬ 
en both would be, and ought to be, to a philosopher. 
