727 Mephitic Gases in Mines-No. VIII. and also to permit, during the returning | stroke, a fresh supply from the atmosphere to enter the cylinder, let a valve be so constructed in the piston, and another below the working part, which alternately opening and closing, will admit the atmospheric air, and prevent the return of the air driven down the cylinder by the preceding stroke: the situation and construction of both which valves, and indeed the whole apparatus, any workman conversant with engines, is fully equal to, without the least instruction. If to the lower end of the small blowing cylinder, pipes be affixed the whole depth of the pit or shaft, and to whatever distance in the mine below may be deemed expedient, a continual stream of fresh air will be conveyed into the works in any or every direction at pleasure. "Should the mere introduction of fresh air not be sufficient in any particular situation, a second cylinder, constructed precisely similar to the first, may be added, which instead of driving down atmospheric air, may draw up the foul air at every stroke of the engine: and where the foul air abounds immediately under the roof of the works, these pipes may be attached to the roof, and have their receiving apparatus there, while the atmospheric air pipes may run along the floor or sides of the works, and have their delivering apertures there; only, taking especial care that the apertures of the foul air pipes, and the apertures of the atmospheric air pipes, are sufficiently distant from each other; that a full and free circulation of atmospheric air may take place in the works, and not be drawn immediately up again, instead of the foul air, through the pipes destined to that service: and equal care should be taken to place these apertures sufficiently distant at the head of the pit or shaft, in order to obviate a similar disadvantage. "The pipes attached to the metallic cylinders may be composed of iron, lead, or any other metal; or, which is considerably cheaper, and will answer every purpose equally well, of leather, wood, porcelain, tarred canvass, or any other substance at hand, which is cheap and convenient; because no force of blowing, no approach to vacuum, nor to what is generally termed suction, being at all the result of these operations, no strain whatever will be exerted upon these pipes when in use. All that is necessary is, so to stretch out the sides of these pipes as to prevent the aperture from being closed in any one part,which closing would, of course, obstruct the current of air. "Thus, where the gaseous fluid is in 728 greater abundance near the roof of a mine, and common air in the greatest quantity near the floor, and vice versa, where carbonic acid gas prevails, a complete circulation of air would be established through the works, and the safety of the people therein, and the works themselves, insured; and the trifling lift of these small air pistons could be of no importance to the weakest engine, nor even to a common horse-gin; because, as has been before observed, no inclination to vacuum, nothing of what is generally termed suction, exists, nor even condensation of air, similar to the act of blowing from large cylinders through small apertures; the whole power needful, being merely that of overcoming the friction of the one or more small pistons in the cylinders. The gaseous fluid, near the roof of a mine, being specifically lighter than atmospheric air, would naturally ascend; and atmospheric air, being specifically heavier than the air of mines, would naturally descend; so that no resistance offers itself from the circulating mediums themselves whatever. "When the damages attendant on explosions in mines, or from obstructions of foul air, retarding and even suspending the works, are taken into the account, the trifling expense of this whole apparatus is light; but when the lives of our fellowcreatures are taken into the account-the lives of men who are our brethren, this small expenditure is nothing. A single life is worth more than would construct an apparatus for each individual mine in Great Britain." And subsequently. "But in some cases air might be conveyed into mines, and gas carried off, without the action of blowing, by either engine or horse-gin. If pipes were carried down the pit or shaft, and extended within the mine to any distance required, and an elevated head was affixed to these in nearly an horizontal direction, in the shape of a hopper or tunnel, with a wide mouth to receive the current of every wind, being so constructed as to turn thereto like a weathercock; let the wind blow from whatever quarter, this would receive a current of air from the atmosphere in all cases, save that of a perfect calm ; and distribute it throughout the works, at whatever distance beneath the surface of the earth was required. Other pipes, with a head similarly constructed, save only that its back, instead of its mouth, should turn to every wind, would permit light inflammable air to ascend out of mines, and in many cases prove of essential use.' Air furnaces, or air stoves, constructed at the head of a pit or shaft, have been found singularly useful in creating a draft up the pit or shaft at the head of which each is constructed; and iron fire pans, suspended by chains in pits, where a fire is kept continually burning, induce a similar draft of air; and where regular air gates communicate between shaft and shaft without obstruction, these drafts create a current of air, which is maintained throughout a long series of galleries in a mine, and thereby diminish the danger of the miners very considerably. These would, in almost every case, suffice to render mining a safe operation, were it not for the many eccentric sinuosities which are created by mining operations, into which these currents do not enter: but I know of no place in any mine, where an air pipe from a blowing cylinder might not be introduced with ease; and I know of no situation in any mine, where, if introduced, it would not relieve the miners. In the absence of a steam engine, a small set of windmill sails would perform this operation. The air furnaces, or stoves, and the fire pans, rarefy the air at or near the head of the shaft, and thus cause it to ascend; and the air next in succession, following this rarefied air, in its turn becomes rarefied also, and so on in succession, to the bottom of the shaft, and throughout the works; and if air pits exist at proper distances, a current of air once induced will continue some time after the first moving cause has ceased to operate. This, the miners are but too well acquainted with for, having induced this current, they frequently presume upon its continuance; and, neglecting the regular fires, a state of things suddenly, or sometimes gradually, takes place in the works, from some obstruction to this current of air below, or conflicting winds above, which places them in the most perilous situation imaginable. The regularity of a blowing apparatus, would at once supersede these contingencies, and supply air to situations in mines where these currents of air never supply it, even when in the most active and regular state; for air pipes might be carried into every working gallery of any mine; and, by plugs judiciously placed, the air might be turned on and turned off, so as to supply every part where air was most needful, and suffer no waste to take place any where. It is, therefore, from inattention that miners suffer, as well as from real dangers. Amidst the ocean and rivers, we behold the fish water is their native element, and there they multiply, in incessant generations, without adventuring upon the land; 116.-VOL. X. amidst the air we behold the birds and insects, which fly or alight at pleasure upon the earth or the water, each in its kind, without descending, like the fish, to live therein; upon the land we view the beasts and reptiles, each wandering over the earth, and multiplying thereon; while the amphibious order alone parade the land, or live beneath the ocean, at pleasure. Thus is every animal throughout creation confined to its peculiar department; and each abides in the path prescribed by the Great Creator, from generation to generation, without addition or alteration. But man, on whom a superior endowment was engrafted, viz. reason, a principle which pants after, and can only be satisfied with, The Infinite,-man is every where, and every thing. He lives beneath the ocean, soars amidst the air, perches upon the utmost pinnacle of the mountain rock, and descends into the earth, far and deep. You behold him perched upon the utmost bough of a stately oak, stripping it of its bark, previous to felling the tree swinging over the earth; you view him at the tall mast-head, at the extreme yard-arm, and on the utmost point of the flying jib-boom of a firstrate ship, suspended over the ocean, while its heaving billows toss below; you follow him to the lowest hold of the same vessel, fathoms below the surface of the water: you behold him, miles aloft in the air, suspended in the car of a balloon, until clouds and darkness veil him from your sight; and you look with awe as he descends in the diving-bell into the bosom of the mighty deep. Yet more, for, far beneath the surface of the earth, where no native animal is found, you view him descending, as the endless wheeling of the pulley aloft uncoils the rope by which he is suspended in the pit; and there, amidst darkness and deaths, or the smoke of a gloomy lamp, he consumes his days; while the sun aloft, in radiant splendour shines upon his brethren without money and without price. Man becomes thus more artificial than any other portion of the visible creation, his rich endowment of reason giving him greater powers of invention and enterprise than all the animals around him; and as he is more artificial than any other animal, so are his wants greater. To enable man to perform all these feats, invention must be ever upon the rack, and industry also. If he must eat his bread by the sweat of his brow, his myriad fancies, antics, and forms, call forth the sweat of every hair upon his head; and the numerous dangers which he needlessly 2 Z 731 Essays on Physiology: Essay X. encounters, are manifold greater than those to which he is subject in the natural order of things. Endless is the provision for man, if this provision is to include all his wants, and shelter him from all his dangers. Who is equal to all this? He, alone, who created him--man is not. "It is appointed to man once to die," and, as though he was determined this sentence should not be averted, danger and man are identified. He calls Hazard his brother; and, like twins born, they pass through life together, separable by death alone. But man ought to look to himself; for a heedless death is a species of self-murder. (To be continued.) ESSAYS ON PHYSIOLOGY, OR THE LAWS OF ORGANIC LIFE. (Continued from col. 640.) ESSAY X.-On Instinct. OUR previous observations lead us to the conclusion, that instinct is a property common to all animated nature. We must observe, however, that over this property habit exerts no little influence, in modifying its operations; and we may add, that with regard to man, as his mental faculties develop themselves, so the instinctive become weaker, and under control and guidance;-perhaps to this circumstance, cultivation, refinement, and the habits of civilized society, no little contribute. Something of this deterioration in the instinctive powers, appears to take place in brutes reclaimed from a state of natural independence, and domesticated for the use of man. No wild animal, for example, as far as we know, is ever found to poison itself by the selection of improper food; while, on the contrary, the cow, from devouring the water-hemlock, and other deleterious plants, not unfrequently perishes. Having now endeavoured to explain the difference between reason and instinct, as principles, let us next ascertain whether there be any data for determining to which of these two, the various actions of animals can with certainty be referred. We should say, then, that every action having for its object some essential result, and manifested uniformly under similar circumstances by every individual, in a natural state, throughout the same species or order of animals, may be considered instinctive. From the examination of these actions and their results, we may, with propriety, divide the instinctive powers into, 1st. appetites-2dly, desires-and 3dly affec 732 tions.-The first comprehending the appetite for food, for sleep, and for the increase of the species. The second comprehending the desire of warmth, of clothing or habitation, curiosity, society, imitation, approbation, power, love of life. The third comprehending the affections - parental, as displayed in a variety of ways, filial and social, exhibited especially by animals congregating together, as the beaver, the rook, the bee, &c. It would extend our essays to an unwarrantable length, were we to enter at large upon the heads thus enumerated, and follow up all their ramifications,-it will, perhaps, be better for us, having thus laid down the principles, or ground-work, to confine ourselves to a brief survey of those instinctive powers and actions, which appear most prominent in the animal constitution;-these we may consider as regarding food, self-preservation, an innate fear of natural enemies, connected with parental protection, and the choice and construction of various abodes or habitations. The choice of food, and the manner of obtaining it, differ in most animals, at different periods of life;-and we here behold the unerring force of instinct. The mother's milk is the food of the young of the class mammalia, and this nutriment, instinctively sought, is instinctively changed for the grass of the meadow, or the flesh of the lacerated victim,-instinctively,-for it is vain to suppose the young animal as considering the reasons for action, or weighing the motives of preference and change; and however distressed by hunger, yet, supposing no instinct for food possessed, (which, as the all-wise Creator has arranged the animal economy, cannot be,) although it might suffer pain, yet it would not seek to alleviate this by food, any more than it does pain arising from external injury. But not only are the cravings of hunger predetermined, but the exertions themselves to relieve the sensation in a manner suitable to the peculiar needs of the system ;-instruments are provided, and the end is always accomplished by the smallest quantity of labour. As animals are destined to change, as well as differ in the selection of food, so they change and differ accordingly, in the structure and conformation of the necessary and appropriate organs.-The voracious caterpillar, for instance, devouring the leaves of even the coarsest plants, is furnished with a hard and horny mouth for masticating its peculiar food. But, having undergone its change to a winged butterfly sipping the luscious honey of the flower, and extracting the nectar from its cup, the jaws of horn are thrown off as a mask, and in their place is given a slender spiral tube, to reach the blossom's nectary. Various are the plants which nature produces for the support of the animal race, and differing as variously in their properties ; yet, without having made the experiment, or without the slightest previous instruction communicated by the parent, each animal knows what to select as nutritious, and what to refuse as poison. In the art of self-preservation, and in the modes adopted to secure against accidents or danger, instinct is remarkably displayed. Many animals, as winter approaches, have all the common sources of their subsistence interrupted, or cut off. But some lay up a store of provisions against a time of scarcity, and many | migrate to other climes when their supplies begin to fail. The beaver builds his magazine, and stocks it with provision; and the active little squirrel hoards up his stores, wisely regarding the future. The swallow, harbinger of spring-the nightingale-and numbers more, leave our inclement skies "when autumn seres the woodland green," while, on the other hand, we have our winter visitants, the woodcock, the snipe, the fieldfare, &c. hasting from the frozen north, and finding in our fields and fens a plentiful repast. | Animals, when pursued by enemies, by their fellow-brutes for support,-by man for his pleasure, or to gratify his cruelty, -have not to reflect on the means best adapted to escape, but are under the energetic impulse of instinct, which at once propels them to employ the most appropriate methods. Hence, the fox and hare trust to their speed, the hedghog to its coat of spines, for preservation ; yet it | would seem that under these circumstances they do not lose, even in this instinctive operation, the power of turning peculiar incidents, or favourable opportunities, to their advantage, and dexterously availing themselves of any means out of the common course, which may present. Every sportsman can furnish us with numerous instances, interesting in a philosophical point of view, as evincing the frequent exercise of mental powers. Instinct most assuredly impels the hare to speed its flight,but are we not warranted in saying that reason prompts it to take refuge in the fold, or mingle its track among the sheep, that it may thereby baffle its pursuers? But the principle is not merely confined to self-protection or preservation in the protection of their offspring, the brute creation exhibits extraordinary displays of instinct the very feeling of parental attachment is instinctive, the impulse to defend is instinctive,-and the methods employed are instinctive also. The lapwing and partridge exhibit uniformly the same artifices to draw off the intruder from their nests; and the hen or turkey, while the hawk is hovering above, calls her young beneath her wings for safety. We might suspect, on a first view, that the instances referred to were rather the results of reason, but let us remember, that the God of nature has directed each animal to use the means in its power best calculated to answer the intended purpose-has given the impulse to put such means into prompt and decisive execution, and has harmoniously fitted instruments, means, and end, and we shall be inclined to alter our opinion, and the more so, as we observe that every individual of the same species uses the same method. Since the brute cannot employ artificial weapons or devices, we cannot, indeed, suppose that it would be left thus in so essential a point to its own confined judgment; but, as we have seen that the brute may occasionally, and under peculiar circumstances, act from a superior principle to instinct, in its own protection, so we are not prepared to deny that in the protection of its young, this may | not, to a limited extent, be true also; yet, certainly, with few exceptions, isolated cases, this part of the economy of animals is under the jurisdiction of instinct. | | But the principle of self-preservation is not confined to animals only, although among them its operations are more manifest. We trace indications of its existence even in the vegetable kingdom. For example, when the roots of a plant spread ing around in search of nourishment, meet with any obstacle to interrupt them in their progress, they either attempt to penetrate the opposing body, or avoid it by altering their course; it does not stop their growth. In a barren situation, the roots of a plant will spread around and penetrate to a great depth, in search of more nutritious soil, while, in more favourable circumstances, they travel but little, finding a sufficiency about them to satisfy the demands of the growing stem and leaves. It is singular, also, that climbing plants, as the honey suckle, the vine, and others, refuse an in secure support;-it is well known, also, that trees always multiply their roots in the direction of the strongest and most prevailing winds, so as to secure the trunk 735 The Highland Army in Manchester in 1745. 736 from being overturned with facility.—In | ance, and invention supplies him with all these instances, with regard to the methods for subduing the strong and overprinciple of self-preservation as we see it taking the swift-his sovereignty is unconmanifested even by animals, although an trolled, almost undisputed. How many, important object is the end, yet we may subservient to his use or pleasure, bow the safely conclude, that the object itself enters neck in patient bondage :-the dog he not into the thoughts, and so determines makes his companion and friend, his the will; for, if so, such actions are not assistant in the chase, or the guardian of instinctive. But, except man, can it be his property; the horse bears him like a proved that animals possess ideas of death, thunderbolt through the battle, or quietly or thoughts of destruction? Why then does drags the ploughshare in the furrowed an animal endeavour to avoid impending field; the massive elephant kneels before death, or danger? Not because it considers his Asiatic lord; and the camel traverses death to be approaching, but because with his burden the parched and burning urged by that powerful impulse, the un- desert. erring voice of instinct. The plant dreams not that the blast may overturn it, nor the brute that mortality claims it as her own. All animals have their natural enemies, and the weak and timid are the prey of the strong and ferocious; the warfare of destruction is continually carrying on. The stag and the ox fall before the lion or the tiger, thousands of insects serve not the bird for a day's consumption, the snake seizes the bird on her nest, and the deadly boa spreads desolation and terror in his course. But all have an instinctive knowledge of their natural enemies—they require not experience to enable them to distinguish their foes,-the hare needs not to have been hunted, to feel that the dog is her enemy, nor the dove to have been pursued by the hawk. We are informed, too, by travellers of the highest credit, that the horse, perceiving by his smell the approach of the lion or any ferocious animal, trembles in every limb, and manifests the greatest agitation, although totally unacquainted, by experience, with the object of his instinctive terror. This innate knowledge and dread of enemies is indeed a wise and benevolent provision; since, if otherwise, the weak or defenceless, unapprised of danger, and knowing not an enemy till too late, would always fall a victim, without attempting to escape; that whole species would soon become extinct, useful, perhaps, to man, or filling an important place in the animal kingdom; while in their turn, the more destructive animals, the source of future supplies being thus annihilated, or insufficient, would perish from the face of the globe. All animals, in their natural state, appear to regard man as their enemy all endeavour either to avoid or destroy him. But inferior as he is to many in strength and swiftness, still, from obvious causes, the contest is unequal. Man brings in the powers of mind to his assist But, perhaps, in the construction, the form, and the choice of their various habitations or places of abode, the most curious aud beautiful effects of animal instinct are to be observed. Each particular species chooses and constructs, after its own manner, from generation to generation, untaught by practice and unaided by reason. The rules by which they work are entirely instinctive; were it not so, each individual, of even the same species, would work according to circumstance, having no fixed or definite mode; and forgetting its previous method, or perhaps improving upon it from experience, vary perpetually from itself. But, in so important a work, involving the well-being of the animal and its offspring, the brute creation is not left unguided,-a higher power, the God of nature, overrules and directs, and perfection is unknowingly and unthinkingly attained. How often have the ingenious houses of the beaver, and the curious hives of the bee, been examined and admired,—the nest of the bird, too, has afforded a theme for reflection. In all these instances (and they might be multiplied) do we see the operations of instinct-we see it choosing situation, as it regards security and convenience; and regulating construction, with respect to form, and the materials of composition. Hammersmith. W. MARTIN. |