LETTER LXXXVI.
From the same.
I AM amused, my dear Fum, with the labours of some of the learned here. One shall write you a whole folio on the diffection of a caterpillar. Another shall swell his works with a description of the plumage on the wing of a butterfly; a third shall see a little world on a peach leaf, and publish a book to describe what his readers might see more clearly in two minutes, only by being furnished with eyes and a microscope.
I have frequently compared the understandings of such men to their own glasses. Their field of vision is too contracted to take in the whole of any but mi|nute objects; they view all nature bit by bit; now the proboscis, now the antennae, now the pinnae of—a flea. Now the polypus comes to breakfast upon a worm; now it is kept up to see how long it will live without eating; now it is turned inside outward; and now it sickens and dies. Thus they proceed, labori|ous in trifles, constant in experiment, without one single abstraction, by which alone knowledge may be proper|ly said to encrease; till, at last, their ideas, ever em|ployed