The ingenuity of this hypothesis must be admitted, but it does not militate against the pre-existence of germs. Germs are visible in the ovum before fecundation; in these germs the very primordia of future organization can be distinguished. It is by no means necessary to allow these germs an exciting power, or a formative power, as has been objected: they are more or less profuse, and under the influence, as I have already said, of accidental circumstances. It has been maintained that monsters are more common in domesticated animals than in wild ones. This is by no means evident, since we have little opportunity of ascertaining the case in forests and in wildernesses; but, admitting the fact, it only tends to corroborate my opinion regarding the influence of accidental causes in physical development, since domestication must expose animals to many emotions unknown in their natural condition. It has been said that monsters are especially observed among sows. There perhaps is no animal under the subjection of man, excepting, perhaps, the unfortunate donkey, more exposed to physical injuries during gestation; and as the Portuguese maintain that a cajado (a stick) springs from the earth whenever an ass is born, so our bumkins and malicious urchins fancy that every one owes a kick to a gravid sow. Howbeit, I doubt much whether the swinish multitude are more subject to bear monstruosities than other animals; and preternatural conformations are, I believe, as frequent in lambs, and calves, and chickens; and double-headed and double-legged specimens of these animals are more frequently exhibited than monstrous pigs.

Monstruosities are of two kinds, and exhibit either an excess of parts or a defect. Thus, some children are born with more limbs than usual, whilst others are deprived of their natural proportions. It is not unlikely that in the former case twins were being developed; whereas, in the other, the proper nourishment of the parts that are either wanting or stunted in their growth had somehow or other been impeded in its assimilation. This opinion seems to be warranted by the facts observed in the artificial incubation of eggs, the different parts of the chick being more or less perfect where the heat had been more or less steadily applied; the produce of those eggs that had enjoyed more warmth being invariably the stronger. The same remark applies to plants. Eggs and seeds are in most respects ruled by similar laws in the phenomena of their germination: the arms and legs grow from the animal fœtus, as the branches originate from the trunk of the tree. These ramifications are frequently as symmetrical as human limbs. When there are preternatural excesses in formation, it is probable that twins were intended: thus we see fœtuses with double heads, or with two bodies. The same irregularity is observed in double and triple cherries, and other fruits. It is probable that this union took place when these bodies were in a soft state, and the vessels inosculated in their intricate ramifications with greater facility, until further development had consolidated the junction.

If a proof were wanting that monstruosities do not arise in the original organization of the embryo, but from subsequent accidents during gestation, it might be sought in those preternatural appearances that arise from frights or longings, and constitute what are called nævi materni. Thus are infants born bearing the marks of some fruit the mother had desired, or some animal that had terrified her. This phenomenon plainly shows that there does exist a wonderful sympathy between external objects and the uterine system; yet this sympathy is not as surprising as that which is subsequently observed between these marks and the fruit they represent. It is a well-authenticated fact that they will assume a tinge of maturity when the fruit is ripening, and become gradually more pale as it is going out of season. The same observation has been made in regard to animal marks; for instance, these marks have displayed a deeper colour when the mouse or the rat that had occasioned them was mentioned. I know a lady who, during her pregnancy, was struck with the unpleasant view of leeches applied to a relative’s foot. Her child was born with the mark of a leech coiled up in the act of suction on the identical spot. Mr. Bennett has published a remarkable instance of this uterine sympathy. A woman gave birth to a child with a large cluster of globular tumours growing from the tongue, and preventing the closure of the mouth, in colour, shape, and size exactly resembling our common grapes, and with a red excrescence from the chest, as exactly resembling in figure and appearance a turkey’s wattles. On being questioned before the child was shown her, she answered that, while pregnant, she had seen some grapes, longed intensely for them, and constantly thought of them; and that she was also once attacked and much alarmed by a turkey-cock.

Various writers have positively denied these facts. Gerard tells us that he had known three pregnant women whose minds had been constantly occupied with the unpleasant recollections of a cripple, of a dancing-dog fantastically dressed, and a basket of beautiful peaches; yet their offspring bore no marks of these objects. This is no argument. No rational person could imagine for a single moment that every impression thus received is to be transmitted. Buffon, who also doubts this influence, thus expresses himself: “We must not expect that we shall be able to convince women that the marks their children may bear have no analogy with ungratified longings. I have frequently asked them, before the birth of their infants, what had been their wishes, and consequently what would be the marks that they might expect? By this question I frequently gave unintentional offence.”

Now, with all due respect to this celebrated naturalist, this argument is by no means conclusive. We perfectly well know that pregnant women are frequently alarmed without such consequences, and the most fantastic phantasies may cross their idle brains, without any such result. It has been observed on this subject, “that when a circumstance may proceed from many causes, we do not universally reject any one because it is frequently alleged without reason.” We have too many well-authenticated cases before us to doubt this strange effect of maternal impressions, so clearly observed and recorded in Holy Writ in the following passage of Genesis: “And Jacob took him rods of Green poplar, and of the hazel and chestnut tree, and pilled white strakes in them, and made the white appear which was in the rods. And he set the rods which he had pilled before the flocks in the gutters in the watering-troughs, when the flocks came to drink, that they should conceive when they came to drink. And the flocks conceived before the rods, and brought forth cattle ring-straked, speckled, and spotted.”

The sympathy that evidently exists between bodies separated from each other, but previously connected, has given rise to many absurd stories. It is told of Taliocotius, that having made a nose for a patient, cut out of a pig, the poor man’s snout fell off the moment the hog was slaughtered. A similar belief prevails among horticulturists, who assert that the graft perishes when the parent tree decays. A very singular phenomenon is observed in wine countries, where the wine in wood enters into a state of slight effervescence, and even efflorescence, when the vines begin to throw out their blossoms.

It therefore appears to me more than probable that monstruosities are by no means original mal-conformations, but arise, during gestation, from physical or moral influences that affect the mother, however unconscious she may be of their action. We have frequent instances of violence occasioning preternatural developements. Mr. Giron Buzareingues mentions that a violent blow was given to a gravid bitch, who produced eight pups, all of which excepting one, had the hind-legs wanting, malconformed, or weak.

A further disquisition would lead me beyond the limits of a sketch. I shall therefore relate some curious cases of monstruosities, that would seem to set at nought our ideas regarding the indispensability of certain organs to the functions of life.

Various instances are recorded of the union of two or more fœtuses. We have lately seen the Siamese twins, and such a preternatural formation is by no means uncommon. In the Journal de Verdun, 1709, a case is related of two twin female children who were united at the loins, with only one intestinal canal. They were seven years old, could walk about, embrace each other in the fondest manner, and both were proficient in several languages. Buffon gives the history of two Hungarian girls, who were also joined together in the lumbar region. Helena, who was the first-born, became tall and straight; Judith, her sister, was of a diminutive size, and slightly arched. At six years of age she was attacked with hemiplegia, and never recovered perfect health. Helena was sprightly and intelligent. With the exception of the smallpox and measles, under which they laboured at the same time, their ailments were always distinct. They lived until the age of twenty-two, when Judith was attacked with a fever, that shortly terminated her existence. The horror expressed by Helena in beholding her dead companion, with whom she had been identified in sisterly love for so many years, cannot be described; but her agonies were of short duration, for in three minutes she also had ceased to live. On their post mortem examination each was found to have possessed distinct viscera. The aorta and vena cava were united above the origin of the iliac arteries, so that no severing operation could have been performed without destroying them both.

Duverney relates the case of twins united at the lower part of the abdomen. They only lived six days; the strongest of the two died first, and was followed by his companion three hours after. Haller records upwards of thirty cases of a similar nature; and various skeletons of this description are to be seen in our museums. Munster saw two girls united by the forehead. They had then attained their tenth year, when one of them died. It therefore became indispensable to separate them, but the unfortunate creature did not survive the operation. Daubenton describes two children united at the back of the head.