Some Anatomical Observations of Milk found in Veins, instead of Blood; and of Grass, found in the Wind-pipes of some Animals.
A curious Person wrote not long since from Paris, that there they had, in the house of a Physitian, newly open'd a Mans Vein, wherein they found Milk, instead of Blood. This being imparted to Mr. Boyle at Oxford, his Answer was, That the like Observation about White Blood, had been made by a Learned Physitian of his acquaintance, and the thing being by him look'd upon as remarkable, he was desirous to have it very circumstantially from the said Physitian himself, before he would say more of it. The next Moneth may bring us in this Account.
The other Particular, mention'd in the Title of this Head, came in a Letter sent also by Mr. Boyle, in these words:
I shall acquaint you, That Two very Ingenious Men, Dr. Clark, and Dr. Lower, were pleased to give me an account of a pretty odd kind of Observation: One of them assuring me, That he had several times, in the Lungs of Sheep, found considerable quantity of Grass in the very Branches of the Aspera Arteria: And the other relating to me, That a few Weeks since, he, and a couple of
Physitians, were invited to look upon an Ox, that had for two or three daies almost continually held his Neck streight up, and was dead of a Disease, the owner could not conjecture at; whereupon the parts belonging to the Neck and Throat, being open'd, they found, to their wounder, the Aspera Arteria in its very Trunk all stuff'd with Grass as if it had been thrust there by main force: which gives us a just cause of marvelling and inquiring, both how such a quantity of Grass should get in there; and how, being there, such an Animal could live with it so long.
Of a place in England, where, without petrifying Water, Wood is turned into Stone.
The same Searcher of Nature, that was alledged in the immediately precedent Observations, did impart also the following, in another Letter from Oxford, where he saith,
I was a while since visited by a Gentleman, who tells me, That he met with a place in these parts of England, where, though there be no petrifying Spring (for that I particularly asked) Wood is turned into Stone in the Sandy Earth it self, after a better manner then by any Water I have yet seen: For I had the Curiosity to go to look upon peices of Wood, he brought thence, and hope for the opportunity of making some tryals to examine the matter a little further, then I have yet been able to do. Thus far that Letter.