A third notable specimen of the conversion of a name into a vernacular word may be taken from France, where Dr. Guillotin found himself effectually, though not perhaps very agreeably, immortalized in connection with the lethal implement which still bears his name. The popular belief that he perished by the machine which he had introduced appears to be erroneous. This rather left-handed compliment was not paid him by the authorities, but by the voice of public opinion, which insisted that the association of the doctor with his invention should be thus commemorated.
This list might be extended by many names which have become descriptive of their original owner's acts or theories. There is, for example, the case of Captain Boycott. And more recently, of course, people have begun to use the verb "to Oslerize."
Some Insects Talk by Vibrating Their Wings, Others Stridulate, and Others Emit Sounds from the Thorax.
Insects, like birds and animals, have their calls. But the sounds they produce include the rubbing together of their limbs or wing covers and the vibration of their wings, so they cannot always be spoken of as voices. For that matter, when man knocks at a door, or rings a bell, or snaps his fingers to attract the attention of a waiter, he is communicating by other than spoken sounds--as is also the case when he uses the telegraph. Says an old exchange:
Flies and bees undoubtedly mean something when they hum louder or lower. Landoise has calculated that to produce the sound of F by vibrating its wings, they vibrate 352 times a second, and the bee to create A vibrates 440 times a second.
A tired bee hums on E sharp. This change is perhaps involuntary, but undoubtedly at the command of the will, and is similar to the voice.
When seeking honey a bee hums to A sharp.
Landoise noticed three different tones emitted by insects--a low one during flight, a higher one when the wings are held so that they cannot vibrate, and a higher one yet when the insect is held so that none of his limbs can be moved. This last is of course the voice proper of insects and is produced by the stigmata of the thorax.
No music is as familiar as that produced by the locusts, grasshoppers, and crickets, and, although they are not produced by the mouth, they answer as calls, and are undoubtedly a language to a certain extent, and indeed their calls have been reduced to written music.