Meantime the chalazæ or treadles will be seen to decline from either end of the egg towards its sides, this being occasioned by that alteration which we have noticed in the relative situations of the two fluids. The treadle from the blunt end descends somewhat; the one from the sharp end rises in the same proportion: as in a globe whose axis is set obliquely, one pole is as much depressed below the horizon as the other is raised above it.

The vitellus, too, particularly in the situation of the cicatricula, begins to grow a little more diffluent than it was, and raises its tunica propria, (which we have found in stale eggs before incubation to be somewhat lax and wrinkled,) into a tumour; and it now appears to have recovered the same colour, consistency, and sweetness of taste that it had in the egg just laid.

Such is the process in the course of the first day that leads to the production of a new being, such the earliest trace of the future chick. Aldrovandus adds: “the albumen suffers no change,” which is correct; but when he asserts that “the semen of the cock can be seen in it,” he as manifestly errs. Resting on a most insufficient reason, he thought that the chalazæ were the semen of the cock, “because,” forsooth, “the eggs that are without chalazæ are unfruitful.” This I can very well believe; for these were then no proper eggs; for all eggs, wind eggs as well as those that are prolific, have chalazæ. But he, misled perhaps by the country women, who in Italian call the chalazæ galladura, fell into the vulgar error. Nor is Hieronymus Fabricius guilty of a less grave mistake when he exhibits the formation of the chick in a series of engravings, and contends that it is produced from the chalazæ; overlooking the fact that the chalazæ are present the whole of the time, and unchanged, though they have shifted their places; and that the commencement of the chick is to be sought for at a distance from them.

EXERCISE THE SIXTEENTH.

Second inspection of the egg.

The second day gone by, the circles of the cicatricula that have been mentioned, have become larger and more conspicuous, and may now be of the size of the nail of the ring-finger, sometimes even of that of the middle finger. By these rings the whole cicatricula is indistinctly divided into two, occasionally into three regions, which are frequently of different colours, and bear a strong resemblance to the cornea of the eye, both as respects dimensions, a certain degree of prominence, and the presence of a transparent and limpid fluid included within it. The centre of the cicatricula here stands for the pupil; but it is occupied with a certain white speck, and appears like the pupil of some small bird’s eye obscured by a suffusion or cataract, as it is called. On this account we have called the entire object the oculum ovi, the eye of the egg.

Within the circles of the cicatricula, I say, there is contained a quantity of perfectly bright and transparent fluid, even purer than any crystalline humour; which, if it be viewed transversely and against the light, the whole spot will rather appear to be situated in the albumen than sunk into the membrane of the yelk, as before: it presents itself as a portion of the albumen dissolved and clarified, and included within a most delicate tunica propria. Hence I entitle this fluid the oculum seu colliquamentum album; it is as if a portion of the albumen, liquefied by the heat, shone apart, (which it does, unless disturbed by being shaken,) and formed a more spirituous and better digested fluid, separated from the rest of the albumen by a tunica propria, and situated between the two masses of liquid, the yelk and the albumen. It differs from the rest of the albumen by its clearness and transparency, as the water of a pellucid spring differs from that of a stagnant pool. The tunic which surrounds this fluid is so fragile and delicate that, unless the egg be handled with great care, it is apt to give way, when the pure spring is rendered turbid by a mixture of fluids.

I was long in doubt what I should conclude as to this clear diffluent fluid, whether I should regard it as the innate heat, or radical moisture; as a matter prepared for the future fœtus, or a perfectly-concocted nourishment, such as dew is held to be among the secondary humours. For it is certain, as shall be afterwards shown, that the earliest rudiments of the fœtus are cast in its middle, that from this the chick derives its first nutriment, and even when of larger size continues to live amidst it.

This solution therefore increases rapidly in quantity, particularly in its internal region, which, as it expands, forces out and obliterates the external regions. This change is effected in the course of a single day, as is shown in the second figure of Fabricius. It is very much as it is with the eyes of those animals which have a very ample pupil, and see better by night than by day, such as owls, cats, and others, whose pupils expand very much in the dusk and dark, and, on the contrary, contract excessively in a brilliant light: one of these animals being taken quickly from a light into a shady place, the pupil is seen to enlarge in such wise that the coloured ring, called the iris, is very much diminished in size, and indeed almost entirely disappears.

Parisanus, falling upon these regions, is grossly mistaken when he speaks of “a honey-coloured, a white, a gray, and another white circle;” and says that “the fœtus is formed from the white middle point” (which, indeed, appears in these regions), and that “this is the semen of the cock.” That he may exalt himself on a more notable subtlety he continues: “Before any redness is apparent in the body of the fœtus, two minute vesicles present themselves in it; in the beginning, however, neither of them is tinged with red;” one of these he would have us receive as the heart, the other as the liver. But in truth there is neither any vesicle present sooner than the redness of the blood is disclosed; nor does the embryo ever suddenly become red in the course of the first days of its existence; nor yet does any of these vesicles present us with a trace of the liver. Both of them belong, in fact, to the heart, prefiguring its ventricles and auricles, and palpitating, as we shall afterwards show, they respond reciprocally by their systoles and diastoles.