The fourth inspection of the egg.
“In the course of the fifth day of incubation,” says Aristotle,[186] “the body of the chick is first distinguished, of very small dimensions indeed, and white; but the head conspicuous and the eyes extremely prominent, a state in which they afterwards continue long; for they only grow smaller and shrink at a later period. In the lower portion of the body there is no rudimentary member corresponding with what is seen in the upper part. But of the channels which proceed from the heart, one now tends to the investing membrane, the other to the yelk; together they supply the office of an umbilical cord. The chick, therefore, derives its origin from the albumen, but it is afterwards nourished by the yelk, through the umbilicus.”
These words of Aristotle appear to subdivide the entire generation of the chick into three stages or periods, viz.: from the first day of the incubation to the fifth; from thence on to the tenth or fourteenth: and from this or that to the twentieth. It seems as if he had only given an account in his history of the circumstances he observed at these three epochs; and it is then indeed that the greatest changes take place in the egg; as if these three critical seasons, or these three degrees in the process which leads from the perfect egg to the evolution of the chicken, were especially to be distinguished. On the fourth day the first particle of the embryo appears, viz.: the punctum saliens and the blood; and then the new being is incorporated. On the seventh day the chick is distinguished by its extremities, and begins to move. On the tenth it is feathered. About the twentieth it breathes, chirps, and endeavours to escape. The life of the egg, up to the fourth day, seems identical with that of plants, and can only be accounted as of a vegetative nature. From this onwards to the tenth day, however, like an animal, it is possessed by a sensitive and motive principle, with which it continues to increase, and is afterwards gradually perfected, becoming covered with feathers, furnished with a beak, nails, and all else that is necessary to its escape from the shell; emancipated from which, it enters at length on its own independent existence.
Of the incidents that happen after the fourth day, Aristotle enumerates three particularly, viz.: the construction of the body; the distribution of the veins, which have already the office and nature of the umbilicus; and the matter whence the embryo first arises, and is constituted and nourished.
In reference to the structure of the body, he speaks of its size and colour, of the parts which are most conspicuous in it, (the head and eyes,) and of the distinction of its extremities.
The body is indeed extremely minute, and of the form of the common maggot that gives birth to the fly; it is of a white colour, too, like the maggot of the flesh-fly which we see cherished and nourished in putrid meat. He happily adds, “it is most remarkable for its head and eyes.” For what first appears is homogeneous and indistinct, a kind of concretion or coagulation of the colliquament, like the jelly prepared from hartshorn; it is a mere transparent cloud, and scarcely recognizable, save as it appears, divided, seemingly, into two parts, one of which is globular and much larger than the other; this is the rudiment of the head, which first becomes visible on the fifth day, very soon after which the eyes are distinguishable, being from the first of large size and prominent, and marked off from the rest of the head and body by a certain circumfusion of black matter. Either of the eyes is larger than the whole of the rest of the head, in the same way as the head surpasses the remainder of the body in dimensions. The whiteness of the body, and prominence of the eyes, (which, as well as the brain, are filled internally with perfectly pellucid water, but externally are of a dark colour), continue for some time—up to the tenth day, and even longer; for, as we have seen, Aristotle says that “the eyes decrease at a late period, and contract to the proper proportion.” But for my own part, I do not think that the eyes of birds ever contract in the same ratio which we observe between the head and eyes of a viviparous animal. For if you strip off the integuments from the head and eyes of a fowl or another bird, you will perceive one of the eyes to equal the entire brain in dimensions; in the woodcock and others, one of the eyes indeed is as large as the whole head, if you make abstraction of the bill. But this is common to all birds that the orbit or cavity which surrounds the eye is larger than the brain, a fact that is apparent in the cranium of every bird. Their eyes, however, are made to look smaller, because every part, except the pupil, is covered with skin and feathers; neither are they possessed of such a globular form as would cause them to project; they are of a flatter configuration, as in fishes.
“In the lower part of the body,” says the philosopher, “we perceive the rudiments of no member corresponding with the superior members.” And the thing is so in fact; for as the body at first appears to consist of little but head and eyes, so inferiorly there is neither any extremity,—wings, legs, sternum, rump,—nor any viscus apparent; the body indeed is still without any kind of proper form; in so far as I am able to perceive, it consists of a small mass adjacent to the vein, like the bent keel of a boat, like a maggot or an ant, without a vestige of ribs, wings, or feet, to which a globular and much more conspicuous mass is appended, the rudiment of the head, to wit, divided, as it seems, into three vesicles when regarded from either side, but in fact consisting of four cells, two of which, of great size and a black colour, are the rudiments of the eyes; of the remaining two one being the brain, the other the cerebellum. All of these are full of perfectly limpid water. In the middle of the blackness of the eye, the pupil is perceived shining like a transparent central spark or crystal. I imagine that three of these vesicles being particularly conspicuous, has been the cause of indifferent observers falling into error. For as they had learned from the schoolmen that there was a triple dominion in the animal body, and they believed that these principal parts, the brain, the heart, and the liver, performed the highest functions in the economy, they easily persuaded themselves that these three vesicles were the rudiments and commencements of these parts. Coiter, however, as becomes an experienced anatomist, affirms more truly that whilst he had observed the beak and eyes from the seventh day of incubation, he could yet discover nothing of the viscera.
But let us hear the philosopher further: “Of the conduits which lead from the heart, one tends to the investing membrane, another to the yelk, in order to perform the office of umbilicus.” The embryo having now taken shape, these veins do indeed perform the function of the umbilical cord, the ramifications of one of them proceeding to be distributed to the outer tunic which invests the albumen, those of the other running for distribution to the vitellary membrane and its included fluid. Whence it clearly appears that both of these fluids are alike intended for the nourishment of the embryo. And although Aristotle says that “the chick has its commencement in the albumen, and is nourished through the umbilicus by the yelk,” he still does not say that the chick is formed from the albumen. The embryo, in fact, is formed from that clear liquid which we have spoken of under the name of the colliquament, and the whole of what we have called the eye of the egg is contained or included within the albumen. Neither does our author say that the whole and sole nutriment of the embryo reaches it through the umbilicus. My own observations lead me to interpret his words in this way: although the embryo of the fowl begins to be formed in the albumen, nevertheless it is not nourished solely by that, but also by the yelk, to which one of the two umbilical conduits pertains, and from whence it derives nourishment in a more especial manner; for the albumen, according to Aristotle’s opinion, is the more concoct and purer liquid, the yelk the more earthy and solid one, and, therefore, more apt to sustain the chick when it has once attained to greater consistency and strength; and further because, as shall be explained below, the yelk supplies the place of milk, and is the last part that is consumed, a residuary portion, even after the chick is born, and when it is following its mother, being still contained in its abdomen.
What has now been stated takes place from the fourth to the tenth day. I have yet to speak of the order and manner in which each of the particulars indicated transpires.
In the inspection made on the fifth day, we observed around the short vein which proceeds from the angle where the two alternately pulsating points are situated, something whiter and thicker, like a cloud, although still transparent, through which the vein just mentioned is seen obscurely, and as it were through a haze. The same thing I have occasionally seen in the more forward eggs in the course of the fourth day. Now this is the rudiment of the body, and from hour to hour it goes on increasing in compactness and solidity; both surrounding the afore-named vein, and being appended to it in the guise of a kind of globule. This globular rudiment far exceeds the coronal portion, as I shall call it, of the vermicular body; it is triangular in figure, being obscurely divided into three parts, like so many swelling buds of a tree. One of these is orbicular and larger than either of the other two; and it is darkened by most delicate filaments proceeding from the circumference to the centre; this appears to be the commencement of the ciliary body, and therefore proclaims that this is the part which is to undergo transformation into the eye. In its middle the minute pupil, shining like a bright point, as already stated, is conspicuous; and it was from this indication especially that I ventured to conjecture that the whole of the globular mass was the rudiment of the future head, and this black circle one of the eyes, having the other over against it; for the two are so situated that they can by no means be seen at once and together, one always lying over and concealing the other.