The imaginary being of the philosopher had one sense only, that of smell, equal in delicacy to our own; the real being, the ravager of the oak, has two, inferior, even when put together, to the former, which so plainly perceived the scent of a rose and distinguished it so clearly from any other.

The real case will bear comparison with the fictitious.
What can be the psychology of a creature possessing such a powerful digestive organism combined with such a feeble set of senses?
A vain wish has often come to me in my dreams; it is to be able to think, for a few minutes, with the crude brain of my Dog, to see the world with the faceted eyes of a Gnat.

How things would change in appearance! They would change much more if interpreted by the intellect of the grub.
What have the lessons of touch and taste contributed to that rudimentary receptacle of impressions?
Very little; almost nothing.

The animal knows that the best bits possess an astringent flavour; that the sides of a passage not carefully planed are painful to the skin.

This is the utmost limit of its acquired wisdom.