mark the almost complete success of the expedient, viz. how seldom it fails of its purpose, compared with the number of instances in which it fulfils it. Reflect how frequently we swallow, how constantly we breathe. In a city-feast, for example, what deglutition, what anhelation! yet does this little cartilage, the epiglottis, so effectually interpose its office, so securely guard the entrance of the wind-pipe, that whilst morsel after morsel, draught after draught, are coursing one another over it, an accident of a crumb or a drop slipping into this passage (which nevertheless must be opened for the breath every second of time), excites in the whole company, not only alarm by its danger, but surprise by its novelty. Not two guests are choked in a century.

There is no room for pretending that the action of the parts may have gradually formed the epiglottis: I do not mean in the same individual, but in a succession of generations. Not only the action of the parts has no such tendency, but the animal could not live, nor consequently the parts act, either without it, or with it in a half-formed state. The species was not to wait for the gradual formation or expansion of a part which was, from the first, necessary to the life of the individual.

Not only is the larynx curious, but the

whole 'wind-pipe possesses a structure adapted to its peculiar office. It is made up (as any one may perceive by putting his fingers to his throat) of stout cartilaginous ringlets, placed at small and equal distances from one another. Now this is not the case with any other of the numerous conduits of the body. The use of these cartilages is to keep the passage for the air constantly open; which they do mechanically. A pipe with soft membranous coats, liable to collapse and close when empty, would not have answered here; although this be the general vascular structure, and a structure which serves very well for those tubes which are kept in a state of perpetual distention by the fluid they enclose, or which afford a passage to solid and protruding substances.

Nevertheless (which is another particularity well worthy of notice), these rings are not complete, that is, are not cartilaginous and stiff all round; but their hinder part, which is contiguous to the gullet, is membranous and soft, easily yielding to the distentions of that organ occasioned by the descent of solid food. The same rings are also bevelled off at the upper and lower edges, the better to close upon one another, when the trachea is compressed or shortened.

The constitution of the trachea may sug gest likewise another reflection. The membrane which lines its inside, is, perhaps, the most sensible, irritable membrane of the body. It rejects the touch of a crumb of bread, or a drop of water, with a spasm which convulses the whole frame; yet, left to itself, and its proper office, the intromission of air alone, nothing can be so quiet. It does not even make itself felt; a man does not know that he has a trachea. This capacity of perceiving with such acuteness, this impatience of offence, yet perfect rest and ease when let alone, are properties, one would have thought, not likely to reside in the same subject. It is to the junction, however, of these almost inconsistent qualities, in this, as well as in some other delicate parts of the body, that we owe our safety and our comfort;―our safety to their sensibility, our comfort to their repose.

The larynx, or rather the whole wind-pipe taken together (for the larynx is only the upper part of the wind-pipe), besides its other uses, is also a musical instrument, that is to say, it is mechanism expressly adapted to the modulation of sound; for it has been found upon trial that, by relaxing or tightening the tendinous bands at the extremity

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of the wind-pipe, and blowing in at the other end, all the cries and notes might be produced of which the living animal was capable. It can be sounded, just as a pipe or flute is sounded.

Birds, says Bonnet, have, at the lower end of the wind-pipe, a conformation like the reed of a hautboy, for the modulation of their notes. A tuneful bird is a ventriloquist. The seat of the song is in the breast.

The use of the lungs in the system has been said to be obscure: one use however is plain, though, in some sense, external to the system, and that is, the formation, in conjunction with the larynx, of voice and speech. They are, to animal utterance, what the bellows are to the organ.

For the sake of method, we have considered animal bodies under three divisions; their bones, their muscles, and their vessels: and we have stated our observations upon these parts separately. But this is to diminish the strength of the argument. The wisdom of the Creator is seen, not in their separate but their collective action; in their mutual subserviency and dependence; in their contri

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buting together to one effect, and one use. It has been said, that a man cannot lift his hand to his head, without finding enough to convince him of the existence of a God. it is well said; for he has only to reflect, familiar as this action is, and simple as it seems to be, how many things are requisite for the performing of it: how many things which we understand, to say nothing of many more, probably, which we do not; viz. first, a long, hard, strong cylinder, in order to give to the arm its firmness and tension; but which, being rigid, and, in its substance, inflexible, can only turn upon joints: secondly, therefore, joints for this purpose, one at the shoulder to raise the arm, another at the elbow to bend it: these joints continually fed with a soft mucilage to make the parts slip easily upon one another, and holden together by strong braces, to keep them in their position: then, thirdly, strings and wires, i. e. muscles and tendons, artificially inserted for the purpose of drawing the bones in the directions in which the joints allow them to move. Hitherto we seem to understand the mechanism pretty well; and, understanding this, we possess enough for our conclusion: Nevertheless, we have hitherto only a machine standing still; a dead organization,―