ARISTOTLE—THE FIRST “SCALE-READER”; THE FIRST TO DISCOVER
THAT IN THE MUREX ITS YEARLY GROWTH IS INDICATED BY THE
SHELL—SENSES OF FISH: EXPERIMENTS AS TO HEARING
“Aristotle hath his Oare in every Water”
If the passage quoted in my Introduction left any doubt that Plato was
no admirer of fishing or fishermen, the following, from _The Laws_,
VII. 823 (Jowett’s translation), is conclusive proof.
“And, now, let us address young men in the form of a prayer for their
welfare: O Friends, may no desire of hunting in the sea, or of catching
the creatures in the waters, ever take possession of you, either when
you are awake, or when you are asleep, by hooks, with weels, which
latter is a very lazy contrivance, and let no desire of catching men,
or piracy by sea, enter into your souls.”
Then Plato adds: “Only the best of hunting is allowed at all, which
is carried on by men with horses, dogs, and men’s own persons,” and
is really hard exercise. “Fishing is not an occupation worthy of a
man well born or well brought up, because it demands more of address
and ruse than force, and is not for young people, like hunting, the
occasion of healthy exercise.”[242]
When expressing astonishment at the variety and extent of Aristotle’s
knowledge, one of the characters of Athenæus asks from what Proteus or
Nereus he could have found out all he writes about fishes and other
animals.[243] The curiosity of the questioner was natural. It is,
however, probable that Aristotle, from living for several years close
to the sea and from his intercourse with fishermen, had amassed a big
fund of information about fishes and other aquatic animals.
His knowledge of the Mediterranean fishes not only exceeded that of
any ancient writer, but also, if Belon, Rondolet, and Salviani be
excepted, that of any writer before Risso and Cuvier. However true may
be the criticism of Dr. Günther that Aristotle’s “ideas of specific
distinction were as vague as those of the fishermen whose nomenclature
he adopted,” the fact cannot be gainsaid that Aristotle was, and
remains, a very great Naturalist as well as a very great Biologist.
To him[244] by right belongs the distinction, which (except
incidentally in Mr. Lones’ work[245]) I have so far failed to find
attributed to him, of being the first writer to note, certainly the
first to point out, that its scales make possible a shrewd, in the case
of the _murex_ an exact, computation of the age of a fish.
If from lack of the microscope he did not in all particulars antedate,
he certainly blazed the trail for the discovery of scale-reading at
the close of the eighteenth century by the Dutch microscopist van
Leeuwenhoek[246] and its rediscovery as regards the carp in 1899 by
Hoffbauer,[247] the _Gadidæ_ and _Pleuronectidæ_ in 1900-03 by J.
Stuart Thomson,[248] and the _Salmonidæ_ about 1904 by H. W. Johnston
and others.[249]
He tells us in _The Natural History_, I. 1, that “what the feather is
in a bird, the scale is in a fish”; in III. 11,[250] that “the scales
of fish become harder and thicker, and in those which are wasting
or aging, become still harder”; in VIII. 30, that “the old fish are
distinguishable by the _size_” (note this!) “and the hardness of their
scales.”[251]
He then buttresses this discovery of annual growth of scale by another
fact resulting from his observation that “the _Murex_ lives for about
six years, and the yearly increase is indicated by a distinct interval
in the spiral convolution of the shell,”[252] or as Bohn renders the
words, “its annual increase is seen in the divisions on the helix of
its shell.”
In Leeuwenhoek we read that, in the examination by a rough self-made
microscope of the scales of a large tame carp, he counted the component
_scale-layers_ lying one above the other, “as if glued together,”
and found without exception that a new layer larger than the one
of the preceding year is added. The carp, accidentally killed when
forty years old, possessed forty such layers in each scale. He adds
pathetically—anticipating perhaps Lytton’s—
“A Reformer, a creed by posterity learnt
A century after its author is burnt”—
that “many people accused me of telling lies on the matter!”[253]
One cannot help being struck with acute astonishment that for over
the 2000 years between Aristotle and Leeuwenhoek we obtain, with
the exception[254] of nine words in Pliny (IX. 33), _Senectutis
indicium squamarum duritia, quæ non sunt omnibus similes_, cribbed
and condensed, as was often his wont, from Aristotle, little, if any,
addition to our knowledge of scale-reading.
The ancient authors either ignore or are ignorant of it. Nowhere, not
even in that close observer Oppian, that omnivorous reader Athenæus,
that pleasant purloiner Ælian, do we read a single line on the subject.
But our astonishment, even if we allow for absence of microscope, grows
acuter, when we are met in the three most important Ichthyologists
before the eighteenth century, Belon, Salviani, and Rondolet, with the
same silence.
And this fate of silence apparently prevails even after Leeuwenhoek’s
book; his discovery seems to have been lost or remained dormant in his
pages till a score of years ago.
Had microscopes existed in his day, we may surely surmise that
Aristotle would have perfected the system of scale-reading, and thus
have come down to posterity with his title of “The Philosopher of the
many Rings” better earned than by his foppish affection for jewellery.
In general opinion, the person most closely approaching the required
Proteus or Nereus was his pupil and sometime friend, Alexander the
Great. By placing at his disposal several thousand men to collect all
kinds of animals and fishes from all parts of the then known world, he
enabled him with the aid of the materials thus provided to produce his
famous _Natural History_.
For this identification we have not a scrap of internal evidence, but
merely the assertions of much later writers, such as Pliny, Athenæus
(who adds that Philip gave him 800 talents to finish the _History_),
and Ælian.[255]
Apart from want of intrinsic evidence, the fact that the geographical
references and the fish mentioned in his _Natural History_ nearly
all cluster round Lesbos effectually precludes the idea of Alexander
“Hagenbecking” for Aristotle.[256]
Internal evidence and reasons advanced by Professor D’Arcy
Thompson[257] indicate that nearly all the animals and fishes with
which Aristotle was practically acquainted belonged to Greece, Western
Asia, and Sappho’s Lesbos (especially of the lagoon of Pyrrha), where
he lived some four years just previous to his Macedonian trip, 343 B.C.
The fishes in his _Natural History_, mostly given without any
attempt at classification or really adequate description, number
at least one hundred and ten. He discusses in some instances the
anatomical characteristics, food, breeding habits, migrations, and
modes of capture. Of the hundred and ten only some fifty fish can be
scientifically identified; of which, all save six come from the sea.
This figure of about one hundred and ten speaks wonders for his
industry and knowledge. Even after the lapse of 1800 years separating
him from the sixteenth century, the list of Mediterranean fishes
compiled by Belon comprises but a hundred or so, and by Rondolet but
some one hundred and sixty names. Risso, writing as late as 1810,
furnishes no more than three hundred and fifteen, of which he asserts
that eighty-eight had never been previously described.
Not unnaturally, this industry and this knowledge caused our author
to be at Athens not only a stumbling-block unto the wise, but “a
very wonder unto fools,” as the comedians said, who fastened on an
occasional lapse, such as his theory that the whole race of shell fish
generate without connection.
The _Natural History_ nevertheless will always remain a monument of
extraordinary diligence and mental vigour, especially when we bear
in mind that he seemingly lacked any antiseptic preparation for the
preservation of specimens. His pre-eminence of merit is indicated
by the fact that of all the Greek and Latin authors he approximates
nearest to some idea of zoological system.
And yet this father of science and this founder of logic makes a direct
personal appeal to us as a man very human in his life and tastes.
Epicurus, “that most truthful of men,”[258] alleges that, when young,
Aristotle went the pace, and squandered his patrimony in good living
and other pleasant delights. In addition to his love for jewellery and
personal adornment we discover him as a great connoisseur of beautiful
silver, of which he bequeathed over seventy rare bowls. He ranks in
opsophagy as an epicure of the highest order.
It is curious to note that in Aristotle, who apparently was familiar
with most, if not all, of the then existent methods, no mention, as
far as I can recall, occurs of _actual_ fishing, save his story of the
fight and escape of a big _Glanis_.
He owed his knowledge largely to his intercourse with fishermen and
his close acquaintance with the fish markets—a haunting of which in
Mediterranean ports was, as in Naples it still is, productive of
a liberal education from the numerous specimens displayed and the
hundreds of vernacular names applied to them.
Contrast this with our British markets, where, despite our more
favourable wealth of sea-harvest, the kinds on sale seldom exceed a
score or so, and their vernacular names hardly reach half-a-hundred.
Granting, however, all the advantages accruing from such
acquaintance[259] with fishers and fishmongers, it needed an Aristotle
to produce a book of such keen observation and (generally) accurate
conclusions as his _Natural History_: for be it remembered that this,
when compared with the vast volume of his other works, is a mere
by-product of his industry and intellect, thrown off probably in the
few years of his banishment.
Little escaped his ken, or his pen.[260] At one moment he notes that
neither hermaphroditism nor parthenogenesis are uncommon, at the next
he deals with the senses in fish. The question whether fish do actually
_hear_ or do not _hear_, remains, _comme les pauvres_, always with
us; it remains like Etna dormant for decades, suddenly to pour forth
columns of print which lava-like scar the fair face of many a ream of
paper.
Aristotle comes down flat-footed in his verdict: fishes (we read, IV.
8) in spite of having no visible auditory organs undoubtedly do hear;
“for they are observed to run away from any loud noises like the rowing
of a galley. Indeed some people dwelling near the sea affirm that of
all living creatures the fish is the quickest of hearing.”
Space forbids my dwelling on the various theories as to whether the
undoubted effect of their being disturbed by certain noises is attained
by hearing proper, or by vibration acting on the surface part of the
fish and communicating instantly with the internal ear.
Day’s summary of the question, still regarded after thirty years
as fair and conclusive, even if attaching undue importance to the
fontanelles, is as follows. “Hearing is developed in fish, and it is
very remarkable how any diversity of opinion can exist as to their
possessing this sense. The internal auditory apparatus is placed within
the cranial cavity: its chief constituent parts are the labyrinth,
which is composed of three semi-circular canals, and a vestibule,
which latter expands into one or more sacs, where the ear bones or
otoliths are lodged. A tympanum and tympanic cavity are absent. They
possess fontanelles between the bones, forming the roof of the skull,
which being closed by very thin bones or skin permit sounds from the
surrounding water to be readily transmitted to the contiguous internal
ears. But the chief mode in which hearing is carried on must be due to
the surface of the fish being affected by vibration of the water, and
the sounds are transmitted directly to the internal ear, or else by
means of the air-bladder acting as a sounding drum.”[261]
It goes against the grain to differ with such a charmful and
theme-ful author as Sir Herbert Maxwell. But his conclusion[262] that
fish in Loch Ken were disturbed every time a shooting party half
to three-quarters of a mile away discharged their guns cannot be
reconciled with the experiments made by me in July 1918 to test the
behaviour of trout, when guns were fired, not half a mile away, but
quite close to them.
Three of us, all accustomed to watching fish, selected a narrow shallow
burn in which the trout ran from fingerlings up to fish three or four
years old. Each in turn fired the gun (an ordinary 12 bore C.F.), with
the usual shooting charge of powder and No. 5 shot. At the first two
trials only was the shot extracted, so as to eliminate any vibration
set up by its striking the opposite bank. Two of us lying hidden in the
grass observed from different spots.
The gun was fired eight feet, four feet, and three feet above the
surface of the stream, which varied in breadth from eight to ten feet,
and in depth from sixteen to nineteen inches. It was fired into the
air and into the opposite bank (struck from four to two feet above the
water) in a direct line above different fishes, lying either singly or
in shoals from five to nine inches from the bottom in small pools or
runs sixteen to nineteen inches deep. Care was taken to fire up stream,
to prevent the trout being startled by the flash of the cartridge.
In no case did the trout take the very least notice, or give any sign
of having heard the explosion or felt the concussion of the shot on the
opposite bank, composed on three occasions of alluvial soil and on two
of rock. Never once did a fish move or go down: in fact, in one of the
experiments over a single well-grown trout, the fish was rising again
to the natural fly in less than thirty seconds after the discharge of
the gun.[263]
Aristotle almost certainly learnt dissection when young. His father
belonged to the Asclepiads, an order of priest-physicians who are
believed to have practised dissection and taught it to their children.
The son’s extensive knowledge of the internal parts of mammals,
birds, and fishes probably resulted from dissections. Mr. Lones names
forty-nine animals and fishes which from the trustworthiness of the
definite information imparted were (he holds) certainly dissected. Of
these some five are fish.
To the question whether Aristotle ever dissected the human body, the
answer after examining the evidence available must, I think, be in the
negative, for three reasons. First: after describing the external parts
of the human body he states that the internal parts are less known than
those of animals, and that we must, in order to describe them, examine
the corresponding parts of animals which are most nearly related to
man.
Second: his many mistakes—such as in the position of the heart being
above the lungs, the emptiness of the occiput, etc.—can hardly be
casual slips made by one familiar with human dissection. The passage,
however, in _Nat. Hist._, VII. 3, points distinctly to his having to
some degree dissected the _fœtus_.
But this would not conflict with the third and weightiest reason,
namely the strong repugnance felt by the Greeks to any mutilation of
the body proper and any neglect of speedy burial. The sad appeal of the
shade of the unburied Patroclus (_Il._, XXIII. 71 ff.): “Bury me with
all speed that I pass the gates of Hades. Far off the spirits banish
me, nor do the phantoms of men outworn suffer me to mingle with them
beyond the river,” the fervent desire of some of Homer’s Heroes that
funeral rites should promptly follow their death,[264] and the agony
of Antigone, all these and other instances manifest Greek sentiment.
So strong and widespread was this that human dissection would have
certainly aroused intense bitterness and probably caused the perpetual
banishment of the perpetrator. The suggestion, resting on no evidence,
that Aristotle dissected the human body _secretly_ can neither be
proved, nor disproved.
The Japanese, till recently, also refrained from dissection of the
human body. It was not till the arrival in 1873 of Professor W. Donitz
to fill the Chair of Anatomy in the newly established Academy of
Medicine in Tokyo that dissection first came to be employed. This new
era of medical science started under the happiest circumstances, for
frequent hangings, an aftermath of internal strife, provided ample
material for its prosecution.[265]
FOOTNOTES:
[242] Byron’s view of fishing is not favourable—as his lines in _Don
Juan_, Canto XIII. prove:
“Angling, too, that solitary vice,
Whatever Isaak Walton says or sings.”
He bore, possibly from failure to catch his boyish Aberdeenshire trout,
a grudge against Father Izaak,
“The quaint, old, cruel coxcomb in his gullet
Should have a hook, and a small trout to pull it.”
Byron closes his note with “But Anglers! No Angler can be a good man.”
Walton received many a shrewd blow, especially from his contemporary
Richard Franck, whose _Northern Memories_, with its appreciation of the
Fly and its depreciation of Izaak’s ground-bait, found less favour than
the _Compleat Angler_. His worsting of Walton at Stafford runs, “he
stop’d his argument and leaves Gesner to defend it: so huff’d a way.”
Again, “he stuffs his book with morals from Dubravius—not giving us one
precedent of his own experiments, except otherwise when he prefers the
trencher to the troling-rod! There are drones that rob the hive, yet
flatter the bees that bring them honey.”
[243] _Deipn._, VIII. 47. Rabelais would seemingly make Aristotle his
own Proteus, for Pantagruel (IV. 31) discovers him with his lantern
at the bottom of the sea spying about, examining, and writing. This
lantern has long been coupled with that of the Sea-urchin, but as a few
pages later on we find ourselves in the _Pays des Lanternois_, it is
probably a reference to a philosopher’s lamp, like that of Diogenes.
[244] _The Natural History_ (of which the text I use is Bekker’s) is
practically the only work by Aristotle discussed here. For me, being no
“Clerk” although “of Oxenford,” it is not, as—
“For him was lever have, at his beddes heed,
Twenty bokes, clad in black or reed,
Of Aristotle and his philosophye,
Than robes riche, or fithele, or gay sautrye.”
[245] _Aristotle’s Researches in Natural Science_, by Thomas E. Lones
(1912), from whose book I borrow and to whose kind advice I owe much.
At last we have a really admirable translation of _Hist. Anim._, which
is by Prof. D’Arcy Thompson, Oxford, 1910. The notes are those of an
expert zoologist, thoroughly familiar with classical literature.
[246] _Select Works_, vol. i. p. 69. London, 1798-1801.
[247] “Die Altersbestimmung des Karpfen an seiner Schuppe,” in the _R.
Jahresber. des Schlesischen Fischerei-Vereins für 1899_.
[248] “The periodic growth of Scales in Gadidæ and Pleuronectidæ as an
Index of Age,” in the _Journal of the Marine Biolog. Assoc._ (1900-03),
VI. 373-375.
[249] _Reports of Scottish Fishery Board_, 1904, 1906, 1907.
[250] Cf. _Anim. Gen._, V. 3.
[251] δῆλοι δ’ oἱ γέροντες αὐτῶν τῷ μεγέθει τῶν λεπἰδων καἰ τῇ
σκληρότητι. Professor D’Arcy Thompson, in his translation, renders this
sentence “the age of a scaly fish may be told by the size and hardness
of the scales.” It is most probable, though not a certainty, from
contextual reasons, from Aristotle’s habit of casually harking back,
and from Pliny in his translation of it (_N. H._, IX. 33) applying it
_generally_, that this sentence applies to all fish, and not solely to
the Tunny.
[252] V. 15. ἡ γὰρ πορφύρα περὶ ἔτη ἕξ, καὶ καθ’ ἕκαστον ἐνιαυτὸν
φανερά ἐστιν ἡ αὔξησις τοῖς διαστήμασι τοῖς ἐν τῷ ὀστράκῳ τῆς ἕλικος.
The translation above is taken from Professor D’Arcy Thompson
(_ibid._), to whose kindness I owe the following reference and much
else in this chapter. Pliny, IX. 60, makes the _Murex_ live _seven_
years.
[253] In _Epistolæ physiologicæ_ (Delft, 1719), IV. p. 401, he
describes how the _squamulæ_ or scalelets of a herring (twelve years
old) were found regularly superimposed, each year’s growth on that of
the preceding year.
[254] Athenæus, referring, however, solely to the _Murex_, “their
growth is shown by the rings on their scales,” is simply quoting from
Aristotle (as Dindorf’s text makes plain), whose term of six years he
adopts: φανερὰ δὲ τ’αὔξησις ἐκ τῆς ἐν τῷ ὀστράκωι ἕλικος (III. 37).
[255] Plin., _Nat. Hist._, VIII. 17; Athen., _Deipn._, IX. 58; Æl.,
_Var. Hist._, IV. 19.
[256] On the other hand, Abu-Shâker, an Arab writer of the thirteenth
century, makes Aristotle the material benefactor of Alexander by his
present of a box in which a number of wax figures were nailed down.
These were intended to represent the various kinds of armed forces
that Alexander was likely to encounter. Some held leaden swords curved
backwards, some spears pointed head downwards, and some bows with cut
strings. All the figures were laid face downwards in the box. Aristotle
bade his pupil never to let the key out of his possession, and taught
him to recite certain formulæ whenever he opened the box. This is only
another use of magic, for the wax, the words of power, and the position
of the figures all indicate that his foes would become prostrate and
unable to withstand Alexander. See Budge, _Life of Alexander the Great_
(one vol. _ed._), p. xvi.
[257] See D’Arcy Thompson, _Aristotle as a Biologist_, Herbert Spencer
Lecture, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1913, p. 13.
[258] Athen., VIII. 50.
[259] Cf. I. V. Carus, _Prodomus Faunæ Mediterranæ_, vol. II.,
Stuttgart, 1889-93.
[260] Of the closeness of his observation may be instanced (1) the
development by the cuttle fish during the breeding season of one of his
arms for transference to the mantle-cavity of the female—a function
of which Cuvier himself was ignorant, and which was not rediscovered
till the latter end of the last century, and (2) the method of bringing
forth of the shark—γαλεὸς λεῖος—which was forgotten, till Johannes
Müller brought it to light. See D’Arcy Thompson, _op. cit._, pp. 19-21.
[261] _British Fish: Salmonidæ_ (London, 1887), p. 19.
[262] _Memories of the Months, Fourth Series_ (London, 1914), pp. 232-3.
[263] The experiments conducted by Alfred Ronalds and recorded in his
famous _Fly-Fisher’s Entomology_, London, 1862, had similar results.
[264] “The belief, common later, that the soul of the dead was not
admitted immediately to the realm of Hades, but wandered in loneliness
on its confines until the body was either burned or buried, is clearly
expressed only in this (Patroclus) passage, while possibly in only
one other can it be assumed, in all the Homeric poems. The wish for
speedy rites sprang from a simpler cause; men did not want to have
the bodies of their friends, or of themselves, torn by wild beasts or
vultures: nor does this even begin to show that they had inherited old
beliefs with regard to the connection between the soul of the dead and
the body, which this soul had once inhabited, leading to a certain
treatment of the body. That in earlier times, and perhaps by many
Greeks of Homer’s age, the soul was thought to maintain a species of
connection with the body, and to care for it, cannot be doubted. But
caution is necessary that it may not be assumed that the Greeks, who
maintained certain customs, inherited also the beliefs on which those
customs were originally based” (Seymour, _op. cit._, p. 462).
[265] Professor G. H. Nuttall, in _Parasitology_ (1913), V. 253.