An examination of this exact drawing has led me to make a calculation which leads to rather curious results: at a half millimetre from the point, the diameters of the four objects represented are in thousandths of a millimetre respectively, 3·4; 2·2; 1·1; 0·38. The corresponding sections in millionths of a square millimetre are: 907·92; 380·13; 95·03; 11·34; or, in round numbers, 908; 380; 95; 11.
If one bears in mind, which is much below the truth, that the pressure exercised on the point must be proportional to the section, and admitting that a pressure of 11 centigrams suffices to thrust in the sting of a wasp half a millimetre, it will require more than 9 grams of pressure to thrust in a needle to the same extent. In fact, this latter figure is much too small, for we have not taken into account the advantage resulting from the elongated shape of the rose thorn, which renders it more favourable for penetration than a needle through a drop of tallow.
It would be easy to extend observations of this kind to a number of other objects, and the remarks I have just made on natural and artificial points will apply incontestably to textures for example. There is no doubt that the thread of a spider’s web would far surpass the thread of the finest lace, and that art will always find itself completely distanced by nature.
We amused ourselves frequently by examining the _infusoria_ which are so easily procured by taking from some stagnant water the mucilage adhering to the vegetation on the banks, or attached to the lower part of water lentils. In this way we easily captured _infusoria_, which, when placed under a strong magnifier, presented the most remarkable spectacle that one can imagine. They are animalcules, having the form of transparent tulips attached to a long stem. They form bunches which expand and lengthen; then, suddenly, they are seen to contract with such considerable rapidity that the eye can scarcely follow the movement, and all the stems and flower-bells are folded up into the form of a ball. Then, in another moment, the stems lengthen, and the tulip-bells open once more. One can easily encourage the production of _infusoria_ by constructing a small microscopic aquarium, in which one arranges the centre in a manner favourable to the development of the lowest organisms. It suffices to put a few leaves (a piece of parsley answers the purpose perfectly)[4] in a small vase containing water (fig. 10), over which a glass cover is placed, and it is then exposed to the rays of the sun. In two or three days’ time, a drop of this water seen under the microscope will exhibit _infusoria_. After a certain time, too, the different species will begin to show themselves. Microscopical observations can be made on a number of different objects. Expose to the air some flour moistened by water, and before long a mouldiness will form on it; it is the _penicillium glaucum_, and when examined under a magnifier of 200 to 300 diameters, cells are distinguishable, branching out from an organism remarkable for its simplicity. We often amused ourselves by examining, almost at hazard, everything that came within our reach, and sometimes we were led to make very instructive investigations. When the sky was clear, and the weather favourable to walking, we encouraged our young people to run about in the fields and chase butterflies. The capture of butterflies is accomplished, as every one knows, by means of a gauze net, with which we provided the children, and the operation of chasing afforded them some very salutary exercise. It sometimes happens that butterflies abound in such numbers, that it is comparatively easy to capture them. During the month of June 1879, a large part of Western Europe was thronged with swarms of _Vanessa algina_ butterflies, in such numbers that their appearance was regarded as an important event, and attracted the lively attention of all entomologists (fig. 11). This passage of butterflies provided the occasion for many interesting studies on the part of naturalists.