Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature, Science, and Art, February 1885Various
Religion
Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature, Science, and Art, February 1885
Various
American literature -- Periodicals; Literature -- Periodicals
A jelly-speck, floating about at his ease in a drop of stagnant water
under the field of a microscope, collides accidentally with another
jelly-speck who happens to be travelling in the opposite direction
across the same miniature ocean. What thereupon occurs? One jelly-speck
rolls itself gradually into the other, so that, instead of two,
there is now one: and the united body proceeds to float away quite
unconcernedly, without waiting to trouble itself for a second with
the profound metaphysical question, which half of it is the original
personality, and which half the devoured and digested. In these minute
and very simple animals there is absolutely no division of labor
between part and part; every bit of the jelly-like mass is alike head
and foot and mouth and stomach. The jelly-speck has no permanent limbs,
but it keeps putting forth vague arms and legs every now and then from
one side or the other; and with these temporary and ever-dissolving
members it crawls along merrily through its tiny drop of stagnant
water. If two of the legs or arms happen to knock up casually against
one another, they coalesce at once, just like two drops of water on
a window-pane, or two strings of treacle slowly spreading along the
surface of a plate. When the jelly-speck meets any edible thing—a
bit of dead plant, a wee creature like itself, a microscopic egg—it
proceeds to fold its own substance slimily around it, making, as
it were, a temporary mouth for the purpose of swallowing it, and a
temporary stomach for the purpose of quietly digesting and assimilating
it afterwards. Thus what at one moment is a foot may at the next moment
become a mouth, and at the moment after that again a rudimentary
stomach. The animal has no skin and no body, no outside and no inside,
no distinction of parts or members, no individuality, no identity.
Roll it up into one with another of its kind, and it couldn’t tell you
itself a minute afterwards which of the two it had really been a minute
before. The question of personal identity is here considerably mixed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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