the subject would admit, that it is the very angle in which the three planes in the bottom of the cell of a honey-comb do actually meet."

It has been therefore demonstrated, (as far as geometry and mathematics can show it,) that Bees build their cells in the strongest possible manner; and with the least possible expense of labour and materials. And hence it is proved, that on the supposition that they act with a view to consequences, they are more skilled in geometry and mathematics, than the most philosophical and learned men, and that too from the earliest ages. "We must therefore conclude that, although the Bees act geometrically, yet they understand neither the rules nor the principles of the arts which they practise so skilfully; and that the geometry is not in the Bee, but in the great Geometrician who made the Bee, and made all things in number, weight, and measure."

Now when we see that animals, by Instinct, arrive at once to perfection in their art, while man is left to the exercise of his Reason, in other words, to his own skill and ingenuity, and very slowly attains to perfection, we must conclude that the former are guided by a more perfect wisdom than the latter, at least in these outward concerns of life.

In the second volume of the Spectator, Addison has taken a view somewhat similar, which illustrates not only the difference between Instinct and Reason, but the perfection of the former in its operations.

* See Reid's Essay, and Rees's Cyclopædia, art. Instinct.

He observes, "Animals in their generation are wiser than the sons of men; but their wisdom is confined to a few particulars, and lies in a very narrow compass. Take a brute out of his instinct, and you find him wholly deprived of understanding. To use an instance that comes often under observation.

"With what caution does the hen provide herself a nest in places unfrequented, and free from noise and disturbance? When she has laid her eggs in such a manner as she can cover them, what care does she take in turning them frequently, that all parts may partake of the vital warmth? When she leaves them. to provide for her necessary sustenance, how punctually does she return before they have time to cool and become incapable of producing an animal? In the summer you see her giving herself greater freedoms, and quitting her care for above two hours together; but in winter, when the rigour of the season would chill the principles of life, and destroy the young one, she grows more assiduous in her attendance, and stays away about balf the time. When the birth approaches, with how much nicety and attention,does she help the chick to break its prison? not to take notice of her covering it from the injuries of the weather, providing it proper nourishment, and teaching it to help itself; nor to mention her forsaking the nest, if, after the usual time of reckoning the young one does not make its appearance. A chemical operation could not be followed with greater art or diligence than is seen in the hatching of a

chick; though there are many other birds that show an infinitely greater sagacity in all the forementioned particulars.

"But at the same time, the hen, that has all this seeming ingenuity, which is indeed absolutely necessary for the propagation of the species, considered in other respects, is without the least glimmerings of thought or common sense. She mistakes a piece of chalk for an egg, and sits upon it in the same manner; she is insensible of any increase or diminution in the number of those she lays; she does not distinguish between her own and those of another species; and when the birth appears of never so different a bird, will cherish it for her own. In all these circumstances, which do not carry an immediate regard to the subsistence of herself or species, she is a very idiot."

With reference to such examples of pure instinct, Addison says, that there is not, in his opinion, "any thing more mysterious in nature than this instinct in animals, which thus rises above reason, and falls infinitely short of it." And he seems to consider it "the immediate direction of Providence, and such an operation of the Supreme Being, as that which determines all the portions of matter to their proper cen❤ tre." A modern philosopher, quoted by Bayle in his learned Dissertation on the souls of Brutes, delivers the same opinion, though in a bolder form of words, where he says, 'Deus est anima brutorum,' God himself is the soul of brutes."

"For my own part," he concludes, "I look upon Instinct as upon the principle of gravitation in bodies, which is not to be explained by any known qualities, inherent in the bodies themselves, nor from any laws of mechanism, but, according to the best notions of the greatest philosophers, is an immediate impression from the first Mover, and the divine energy acting in the creatures."

SECT. II.

Of Instinct in Animals in their choice of Food.

In a sketch like the present, it cannot but be inter-. esting to the lover of truth, to see and compare toge ther the opinions of different eminent writers, espe cially when they coincide. I shall therefore have recourse to them as often and use them as freely, as may appear necessary; because they will afford me, if not more solid, at least more satisfactory grounds, than my own limited observations could do, for the subsequent reasonings which 1 shall build upon them. Hence I shall consider them as facts not only well attested, but as grave authorities to which I shall appeal, in drawing some conclusions that do not appear to have suggested themselves to the writers in ques tion.

* Spectator, vol. ii. No. 120.

If we would take another view of the wonderful manner in which pure instinct operates, we may turn our attention to the choice which different animals make of plants for food, prior to all experience,plants which are poisonous to other animals; avoiding whatever is noxious or unwholesome to themselves.

Smellie remarks that there is hardly a plant that is not rejected as food by some animals, and ardently desired by others. The horse yields the common water hemlock to the goat, and the cow the longleafed water hemlock to the sheep. The goat, again, leaves the aconite, or wolf's bane, to the horse. The euphorbia, or spurge, so noxious to man, is greedily devoured by some of the insect tribes.* The Indian buceros feeds to excess on the colubrina, or nux vomica, used in this country as a poison for rats; and the land crab on the berries of the hippomane, or manchineel tree. The leaves of the broad-leafed kalmia are feasted upon by the deer, and the roundhorned elk, but are mortally poisonous to sheep, to horned cattle, to horses, and to man. The bee extracts honey without injury from the flower of this plant, but the man who partakes of that honey, after it is deposited in the hive-cells, falls a victim to his repast. In the autumn and winter of the year 1790, at Philadelphia, extensive mortality was occasioned among those who had eaten of the honey collected in the neighbourhood of that city, or had feasted on the common American pheasant, or pinnated grous, as

* Smellie, vol. i, p. 350.