sistance. In this case, in fact, the gallery is approaching either the surface of the wood or a neighboring gallery; a teredo is never known to destroy the work of another; that, moreover, would not serve him, for, even should he perforate the woody division between them, he would drive against the calcareous tubes, which, being scarcely less hard than the valves themselves, cannot be attacked by them. Whenever the teredo encounters an obstacle, he simply turns aside; he acts like the mole, which, excavating her trenches by preference in a rich loam, makes a détour around the stones which she meets in her way, and changes her direction when she comes near the breast of a ditch, to avoid the open air.
I will state, moreover, that the conclusions regarding the manner in which the teredo perforates his galleries, deduced at first by Harting from the anatomical examination of his organs, have since been fully confirmed by direct observation; Kater, having opened laterally one of the galleries, so as to partially expose the animal, has seen him at work, executing all the movements above mentioned.
IN the struggle of life with the facts of existence, science is a bringer of aid; in the struggle of the soul with the mystery of existence, science is a bringer of light. As doctrine and discipline its beneficence is far-reaching. Yet this latest-born of the three great agents of civilization—Religion, Common-Sense, and Science—is so little appreciated by the world at large that even men of culture may still be found who boast of their indifference to it, while others regard it with a vague dread which expresses itself in a dislike, sometimes sharpened into hatred.
I shall be told, perhaps, that the growing demand for popular expositions of scientific results and the increasing diffusion of scientific inquiry point to a different conclusion. It is true that there never was a time when science was so popular. It is true that every year the attendance on lectures and the meetings of scientific associations is larger. The tide is rising. The march of Science is bit by bit conquering even the provinces which most stubbornly refuse allegiance to it. But, meanwhile, among the obstacles it has to overcome are certain prejudices and misconceptions which are the grounds of a deep-seated dread. No better illustration can be given of the general suspicion and dislike of science as science than the great stress which is laid on the "iniquity of vivisection," because experiments on animals are pursued for purely