PHYSIOLOGY 
EOR PRACTICAL USE. 
EDITED BY 
AUTUOIi OF “THOUGHTS ON HEALTH,” “THE MYSTERY OP PAIN,” “ LIFE IN NATURE,” 
“man and his dwelling place,” etc. 
JAMES HINTON, 
WITH AN INTRODUCTION, 
BY 
E. L. YOUMANS. 
NEW YORK: 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 
549 AND 551 BROADWAY. 
1874 PREFACE. 
In collecting these papers for republication, most of 
them have been submitted to careful revision, and I 
believe they are all fairly on a level with the present 
state of knowledge. 
The chapter on the use of alcohol is entirely new, and 
will be found, I think, one of the best practical ex- 
positions of the subject to be met with. 
My own part in the volume has been small. But 
I am happy to have this opportunity of again returning 
my thanks to its authors, all of them eminent in their 
profession, for the kind way in which they re- 
sponded to the requests for assistance in this work 
which were conveyed to them through me. 
Thinking that the recent experiments of Professor 
Perrier on the functions of different parts of the brain 
would be interesting and instructive, I have availed 
myself, in an Appendix, of an account of them given 
by him in the recent number of the Journal of Anatomy 
and Physiology. 
JAMBS HINTON. 
London, January, 1874. INTRODUCTION TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. 
Notwithstanding tlie multiplicity of works upon 
Physiology that have been recently offered to the pub- 
lic, many of them of undoubted excellence, there has 
been still wanting a volume that should treat the subject 
more thoroughly from the point of view of its practical 
usefulness. Physiology is a subject extensively studied 
in our schools; but, that it does not yield the advan- 
tages expected from it, in the after conduct and life 
°f its students, is notorious. Whatever may be the 
cause, this branch of study seems to fail of its purpose. 
One of the most encouraging signs of the times is the 
increase of organized effort for sanitary improvement, 
nnder the guidance of instructed men, mainly physi- 
cians; and their almost unanimous testimony is, that 
the general ignorance of the community on the sub- 
ject of health is something utterly deplorable; making 
it almost impossible to carry out any efficient meas- 
ures of public hygiene. Nor is this ignorance, by any 
means, confined to the illiterate; it is wide-spread 
among cultivated people who boast of education. Yet INTRODUCTION. 
there are no classes of schools to he found that do not 
profess to make provision for physiological study in 
some form. 
The question therefore arises, Why does not the 
knowledge imparted hear fruit in increasing solicitude 
in regard to health, and in better provision and greater 
care with respect to sanitary hahits and conditions ? 
From some cause, the instruction has fallen short of its 
purpose either the knowledge gained has not heen 
thorough, or it is of the wrong kind. Ho doubt, it is 
often deficient, and frequently a mere smattering that 
makes no deep or permanent impression. But it can- 
not he denied that in many schools the subject is taught 
with a care and thoroughness commensurate with its 
importance. Yet even this affords no guarantee that 
the practical purposes of the study will he secured. It 
is a grave difficulty that our physiological books, with 
the best use that can he made of them, fall short be- 
cause the information they contain, however accurately 
it may he presented or completely acquired, is far from 
being what is wanted. The science of Physiology is of 
immense extent; and a student may be occupied for 
years in mastering it, and may fill his mind with 
facts and laws of the greatest scientific interest, with- 
out ever reaching the applications of the subject to the 
preservation of health. The fact is, the applications of 
the sciences are becoming more and more distinct de- 
partments of study. A man may spend his life in chem- INTRODUCTION. 
istry, and yet know but little of tke bearings of that 
science upon tbe arts. Photographic chemistry, and 
metallurgical chemistry, for example, can only be mas- 
tered by taking them np separately and systematically. 
So the application of Physiology to health must be dis- 
tinctively dealt with in education, if the highest prac- 
tical benefit of physiological knowledge is to be secured. 
I do not mean to intimate that in the existing text- 
books the subject of health is ignored; they all contain 
hints on hygiene which are useful as far as they go; 
but this branch of instruction is totally inadequate. 
Much greater attention requires to be given to the im- 
mediate question what is to be done, in the various 
circumstances in which health is imperilled, and how 
the life shall be ordered so that this blessing may be 
best maintained. 
The present work has been prepared from this point 
of view; it has been prepared entirely with the purpose 
of making it, in the greatest possible degree, practical 
and useful. It contains a great deal of accurate and 
trustworthy physiological science presented in the most 
familiar and untechnical style, but all this is subordi- 
nate to the useful lessons and conclusions that are en- 
forced in regard to what may be called physiological 
conduct and practice. The work was planned and ex- 
ecuted with sole reference to this end. Its editor, Dr, 
James Hinton, a distinguished aural surgeon of Lon- 
don, and an able medical writer, arranged with some INTRODUCTION. 
other professional gentlemen to contribute a series of 
health-papers to the Peoples Magazine, a periodical of 
large popular circulation. Each contribution was from 
an authoritative source, that is, from a party who had an 
intimate practical knowledge of the special subject upon 
which he wrote. Dr. Hinton has now carefully revised 
this valuable series of essays, and issued them in the 
present form. They will be found very readable and 
instructive, and to abound in interesting physiological 
information; but, what is more important still, they 
will be found available for constant guidance in the 
care of the bodily organs, and the general management 
of the vital economy. Such a work has been long 
and urgently needed, and the present volume may be 
recommended to families and schools as meeting this 
want, it is believed, more perfectly than any work 
hitherto offered to the public. 
New York, May, 1874. 
E. L. Y. CONTENTS. 
CHAPTER I. PAGE 
The Beam and its Servants 1 
CHAPTER II. 
Ihe Faculty oe Hearing 33 
CHAPTER III. 
The Eye and Sight 61 
CHAPTER IY. 
The Sense of Smell 102 
CHAPTER Y. 
The Sense of Taste 127 
CHAPTER YI. 
Digestion X 
CONTENTS. 
CHAPTER YIL 
The Skin—Corpulence 777 
CHAPTER Yin. 
The Bath—The Sense of Touch 207 
CHAPTER IX. 
Notes on Pain 225 
CHAPTER X. 
Respiration 244 
CHAPTER XL 
Taking Cold 271 
CHAPTER XII. 
Influenza 290 
CHAPTER XIII. 
Headache 308 
CHAPTER XIY. 
Sleep 
CHAPTER XY. 
Sleeplessness CONTENTS. 
CHAPTER XYI. 
Ventilation . , . . . . . • • .363 
CHAPTER XVII. 
The Liver and its Diseases 383 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
The Action op Alcohol 395 
CHAPTER XIX. 
Muscular Motion as Exemplified in the Human Body . 426 
CHAPTER XX. 
Occupation and Health 448 
CHAPTER XXL 
Training and Gymnastics 469 
Appendix 493 
Index PHYSIOLOGY 
FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
I. 
In tlie course of tills volume we shall have a great deal 
to say about the Nerves; and as these are the means 
through which all our organs perform their part, it is 
perhaps, advisable, first of all, to devote a little space to 
them, and to the great centre of them all, the Brain. 
THU BUATN AND ITS SERVANTS. 
The likeness of the brain and nerves to a telegraph, 
with its lines of wire, and the central office to which 
all lead and from which all depart, has been often 
noticed; and it has been supposed by some persons 
that these organs are really a kind of electric machine, 
in which currents are generated, and supplied wher- 
ever they are needed. But it is not truly so. The 
living body, indeed, like all things in which active 
changes are going on, is constantly pervaded by elec- 
tricity; and in some animals (as the torpedo, or the 
electric eel) electricity is specially generated, in pecu- 
liar organs, to serve as the creature's offensive and PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
2 
defensive weapon. In tliese animals there are large 
nerves which serve to bring the electric organs into 
action at the right moment. But these organs are 
quite separate from and unlike the brain, and the cur- 
rents which circulate in the nerves are of a more 
delicate and subtle kind. They are such as are gene- 
rated in living beings alone, and can traverse no other 
substances than the nerves. 
But still they are so much like electricity that we 
can best understand them by comparing the nerves 
with electric wires, and the living actions which pro- 
duce nervous power with the means which set electric 
and galvanic currents in motion. And, first, the nerves 
are like electric wires in this, that impulses travel along 
them without any permanent change in themselves. In 
each case, there seems to be a sort of thrill passing 
from one end to the other, which may be best conceived 
by being likened to a motion transmitted along a row 
of balls lying in contact with one another. If the first 
of the series be sharply and yet gently struck, it 
passes on the impulse, without changing its own 
place, to the next, and that to the following one, and 
so on, until the last is reached, and it alone moves 
from its position. So, probably, it is with the 
minute particles which make up a wire when electricity 
passes along it; and somewhat in the same way,, we THE BRAIN AND ITS SERVANTS. 
3 
lruiy best conceive, it is with, the minute particles which 
form the active portion of a nerve. 
And again, as the impulse which starts a galvanic 
current is derived from chemical changes between 
an acid and a metal, from the union of the minute 
particles of these with one another, so the force 
which starts a thrill along a nerve comes, in all 
probability, from unions of minute particles in the 
brain, or around the other terminations of the 
nerves—in the ear, the eye, the skin. And if we 
are content (as in respect to subjects such as these 
e are obliged to be content at present, though 
we daily strive to make our knowledge more com- 
plete and truthful) with general thoughts, and 
keep always in mind how very imperfect all such 
views must be, it is not difficult to understand how 
the Creator has endowed us with so wonderful and 
perfect an instrument for perceiving and for acting, 
as our nervous system is. For all over the living 
body minute particles are every moment changing 
their place, uniting with one another, and disuniting. 
There is no life without such constant interaction of 
the elements of which the body consists. And thus 
in these minute actions we may well understand there 
is an ever-ready source cf nerve-power. The nerves 
take up and turn to account, as it were, power that PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
4 
would otherwise be wasted. The wonder is, that amid 
the innumerable multitude of actions within and in- 
fluences without, so perfect an order is maintained 
that there is no excess and no lack on any hand, 
and no confusion; every organ of sense making its own 
distinct report, and every muscle receiving its own 
exact supply. 
It is no wonder that the organs destined to be 
the channels and centres of this incessant and 
widely interwoven activity should be (as we shall 
see they are) highly complicated, and elaborately 
interconnected, each part being placed in due sub- 
ordination to the whole. Nor is it any wonder that 
an organization so delicately subtle, so open to 
impression, and yet needing an adjustment so exact, 
should be so often liable to disorder, especially if the 
laws of its healthy working are unknown or disre- 
garded. 
One of the most striking points about the nervous 
system is that it has two quite distinct and even 
opposite parts to play. On the one hand, it is a 
stimulator; it excites to their proper actions all the 
organs; on the other, it is a controller of action, 
and perpetually restrains activities that would otherwise 
come into play. Of this we have plenty of evidence 
in our own will, which operates through the nerves. THE BRAIN AND ITS SERVANTS. 
5 
Not very much less often do we exert it to repress 
an action which tends to its own performance, than 
to perform one which requires our effort. How hard 
it often is to refrain from laughter, or from tears ! 
how impossible entirely to repress the manifestations 
of our feelings! We cannot but tremble when we are 
m fear; we cannot long stop our breath. And this 
twofold character pervades all the operations of the 
nervous system; its function everywhere is partly to 
excite and partly to control. For these two purposes 
there exist distinct sets of nerves, which, however, 
are but a portion of the many varieties of nerves found 
in the human body. There is a set of nerves, for 
example, which keeps the heart beating; another set 
which controls and regulates its action, and these, 
when too violently excited, bring it to a sudden stand. 
But one of the chief ways in which this control of 
activity through the nerves is exercised, is by means 
of a special set of nerves distributed to the blood- 
vessels in every part of the body, and through which 
the vessels are made to contract or expand, so increas- 
ing or reducing the power of any organ. All the 
operations of the body are carried on under control; 
its activity is a regulated activity. Hence its perfect- 
ness—its harmony with nature. And the lesson is 
not hard to read; that is truly natural which is strictly 6 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
regulated. If we would recognise in the moral world 
the features of life, we must find it in passions spon- 
taneously bending to the Creator's laws. 
So, too, in the brain itself: its activities are balanced 
one against the other, and its harmonious action comes 
out of the operation of each in its turn under the 
regulating influence of a power operating in the con- 
trary direction. But of this we may speak more by- 
and-by. 
A general outline of the nervous system is presented 
in Fig. 1. It consists of three great divisions—the 
brain, the spinal cord, and the nerves. 
Of these the brain is the instrument by which we 
feel and think, and put into action the dictates of our 
will. The spinal cord stands, as it were, between the 
brain and the rest of the body; through it most of the 
actions we perform unconsciously are done; and be- 
sides this, it receives impressions and transmits them 
to the brain on the one hand, and on the other, in its 
influence on the body, the brain acts through it. The 
nerves connect these central parts, the brain and cord, 
with all the other organs. We shall speak first of the 
nerves. 
Fig. 2 represents two nerves uniting with one another 
as they continually do. It will be seen that each nerve 
consists of a bundle of fibres. These are in the larger THE BRAIN AND ITS SERVANTS. 
7 
tranks extremely numerous, about 3000 occupying 
an inch. Eacb of these fibres consists of three parts— 
Fig. I. 
DIAGRAM or THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. 
an outer covering, a roll of a white material, and a small 
central darker substance. We shall have a good idea 
of them if we liken them, on a small scale, to a very 8 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
long wax taper rolled up in a piece of linen. The linen 
will be the external sheath, which is firm and strong, 
and serves as a protection; the wax will answer to the 
white material, and the wick may stand for the central 
substance. But this is not strong and fibrous : it is 
very fine and soft, and through it alone, we believe, the 
nervous currents pass. It seems, indeed, highly pro- 
bable that this central substance answers strictly to 
Fig. 2. 
the metallic wire in the electric cable, and that the 
white material, which does not reach to the extreme 
end of the nerve, answers the purpose of insulating 
the nervous current, being like the gutta-percha coating. 
If it be so, this is another striking instance of man’s 
unconscious imitation of Nature. When we speak of 
a nerve, we mean a bundle of the nervous fibres 
described above, enclosed in a common sheath of mem- 
brane. THE BRAIN AND ITS SERVANTS. 
9 
Among these wires of our nervous telegraph, one set 
carry the messages inward to the spinal cord, and a 
different set convey outward the response. The 
fii’st are the nerves of sensation, and pass chiefly to 
the skin; the latter the nerves of motion, and are 
given to the muscles. Besides these, there are ano- 
ther set of nerves, a little different in their form. 
Fig. 3. 
NERVE CELLS AND FIBRES. 
a. A blood-vessel. 
which go to the small vessels, as before said, to make 
them contract or expand, in conformity with the con- 
dition of the nervous system. We see their action 
in the blush of modesty or the paleness of fear. 
In all the organs of sense, these fibres end in special 
structures, adapted to receive each peculiar impression. 10 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
as of sound, or light, or taste; in the muscles the inmost 
axis subdivides into still minuter twigs, which spread 
themselves over all the fibres, and thus bring every por- 
tion under the influence of the controlling will. At the 
centre, the nerves end in a different way. Here each 
nerve-fibre is connected with a peculiar rounded body 
termed a cell. These cells are exhibited in Figs. 3 and 4. 
Fig. 3 shows a small group of nerve-cells, with the 
Fig. 4. 
A NERVE-CELL WITH TWO FIBRES. 
nerve-fibres intermingled; and Fig. 4 represents a single 
cell with two nerve-fibres issuing from it; or, rather, as 
one must believe, with one issuing from it, one passing 
into it. Of the use of these cells something is known. 
The impression received through a nerve filament, say 
from the eye or ear, is in the cell “ reflected,” as it is said, 
into another nerve-fibre which conveys an influence to a 
muscle ; as, for example, to the muscle which contracts 
the pupil, or adjusts the tension of the membrane of the THE BRAIN AND ITS SERVANTS. 
drum. This is the simplest form of nervous action, and 
in it the mind has no part. Thus are performed the 
actions which we do involuntarily, as breathing; or quite 
unconsciously, as winking. Thus, the heart beats and 
the stomach secretes the digestive fluid. These little 
cells are small storehouses of nervous force, which the 
impulses produced in the nerve-fibres by light, or sound. 
FlO. 6. 
SECTION or THE SPINAL COED. 
a‘ k- Serves, c. Ganglion of cells on the posterior root, which is the 
neiye of sensation, d. Origin of the motor root. e. Origin of the sensi- 
tive root. The dark part in the centre represents the cells of the cord. 
or touch, set free, and cause to flow along the nerve- 
fibres to any muscle with which the cell is connected. 
Now the spinal cord (see Fig. 1) is made up of cells of 
this kind, with bundles of fibres round them, which 
fibres connect the cells and the nerves to each other, and 
all with the brain. Fig. sis a section of the cord, show- 12 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
ing how the nerves come to it and pass off from it. 
Through the branch with the swelling on it (which is a 
small cluster of nerve-cells) the impressions are trans- 
mitted to the cells in the cord, and through the other 
branch the impulses pass outwards to the muscles. These 
two branches are called the roots of the nerve; they are 
soon united indistinguishably together, and separate 
again only at the other end of the nerve, where one set 
of fibres goes to the muscles, the other to the part that 
feels: the greatest number, by far, of all these fibres 
goes to the skin. 
It is through the spinal cord, thus constructed, that 
almost all our involuntary actions are carried on. By 
the same means it is that insects will act, after their 
heads are removed, precisely as if they still felt and 
designed. Such actions are carried on by the nervous 
system, by virtue of its own structure and powers, with 
no mind in them. And it is well it is so. If our will 
were necessary to their performance, they would often be 
sadly neglected. How long should we keep on breath- 
ing if it required a special effort of ours for every breath ? 
How long would it be before our heart stopped beating, 
if each pulse waited for our will to start it ? At the very 
least we could never sleep; or, even if we could live on 
such conditions, what would our life be worth, consumed 
as it would be in the mere process of existing ? Nothing THE BRAIN AND ITS SERVANTS. 
13 
111 our whole structure is more wonderful or more beau- 
tiful than this office of the spinal cord, whereby all the 
constant processes of life are withdrawn from our con- 
cern, and carried on without our thought. Thus the 
Nobler part of us is set free to attend to worthy objects, 
and the truly human life is erected, as on a pedestal, 
upon the animal life which serves it, and which should 
ever be held as its servant. 
Of this higher life of thought and feeling the brain is 
the instrument. But though the office is different, the 
principle on which it is carried out is the same, and the 
same structures are made use of. Cells and fibres con- 
stitute the spinal cord; precisely similar cells and fibres 
constitute the brain. By impulses received from with- 
out through the fibres, and actions thus evoked in the 
various groups of cells, the lower functions of the body 
are maintained; by similar impulses, evoking corres- 
ponding actions in the brain-cells, the functions of the 
intellectual and moral life, so far as they depend upon a 
material instrument, are carried on. 
But as we advance to the brain, the arrangement of 
cell and fibre becomes more complex, though in principle 
it is the same. Fig. 6 very roughly represents its struc- 
ture. Tracing it upward from the spinal cord, the fibres 
of the latter are seen to expand in all directions, and 
among them various groups of cells are situated, while 14 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
they are covered in by a layer of similar cells. This 
layer is folded up into “ convolutions/' so that though, 
if spread out, it would cover a surface of many feet, 
it is packed conveniently within the skull. If I might 
take a very homely illustration, I would suppose it was 
desired to spread as large a layer of sugar as possible 
Fig. 6. 
DIAGRAM OF A VERTICAL SECTION OP THE BRAIN. 
a. Centre for smell, h. Centre for motion, c. Centre for sensation, 
d. Centre for sight. /. The little brain, or cerebellum. The black indented 
line represents the cells of the convolutions. 
upon a cake. The way to do it would be to indent the 
surface of the cake into deep close folds, and to arrange 
these in waving forms. These would be an image of 
the “ convolutions" of the brain. And we cannot 
wonder that they are* so extensive, when we consider 
that it is through the cells which cover them that the THE BRAIN AND ITS SERVANTS. 
15 
mind acts. The convolutions of the brain are the por- 
tion of the body through which the mental life, with 
all its immense variety of powers, is manifested. And, 
speaking in general terms, it is found that the extent 
of the mental faculties is in proportion to the number 
and variety of these convolutions. Here, then, we arrive 
at the very crown and summit of the human body— 
that for which all other parts exist. Not that the soul 
dwells here, or depends in any way upon this, more 
than on any other portion of the material frame that 
it controls; but it is when impressions from without 
reach this portion of the nervous system that they excite, 
not actions only, but thoughts and feelings. It is on 
reaching this part that mere nervous impulses awake 
ideas, arouse passions, start trains of reasoning, call 
forth exertions of the will. 
It seems a poor and simple mechanism for so great 
a result, and doubtless, till we have penetrated its secret, 
we cannot but think it so. Yet it is not quite so 
simple as it might appear. This chief of all the ner- 
vous centres is an expanse of small grey-coloured cells; 
altogether it is but about the tenth of an inch in 
thickness; yet, on minute examination, it has been 
found to consist of at least seven distinct layers; and 
though no decided difference between its various parts 
has been detected, there is proof that different portions PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
of it serve different offices. Pei’haps the best-established 
distinction of this kind is the dependence of speech upon 
a convolution situated in the region of the left temple. 
But upon points of this kind our knowledge, though 
very limited as yet, is growing fast. 
It may be as well here to say, that the groups of 
nerve-cells are called ganglia (from ganglion, a knot) 
and that the cells are grey, while the nerves are white. 
As I have said, the fibres of the spinal cord, as we 
trace them upwards into the brain, expand outwards and 
end in the convolutions, thus connecting every part of 
the body with the mind. But this connection is not 
direct and simple. Between the cord and the convolu- 
tions there are interposed two other large ganglia (see 
Figs. 6 and 7), which are connected, the lower with the 
nerves of sensation, and the higher with those of motion. 
In the former of these the impressions sent up to the 
brain from all parts are first received, and probably the 
multitude of them reduced into more distinct and simpler 
form, before they are transmitted onward. To the supe- 
rior ganglion the impulses to motion arising from the 
will are first transmitted, probably as a simple or single 
mandate; and in the ganglion this mandate is distri- 
buted, we may perhaps say, to the various nerve-fibres, 
which set in operation the many muscles which must co- 
operate for every action. Besides thus ministering to THE BRAIN AND ITS SERVANTS. 
tlie operations of the mind, these ganglia also possess 
a certain power of action in themselves. They also 
“reflect” impulses to the muscles or to the vessels, 
or the secreting glands, as well as pass them up- 
wards to affect the mind. And they may do one or 
other of these in varying proportion, as the mind is 
more or less intent upon surrounding objects. Pro- 
bably in “ attending ” to anything, what we chiefly 
do, so far as the brain is concerned, is to maintain 
the connection between the convolutions and these 
inferior groups of cells in a very free and active state; 
so that every impression, not only evokes an uncon- 
scious nervous response, but ' excites distinct ideas. 
The very quietness of a person who is earnestly at- 
tending may be taken as a proof of this. He exercises 
an active control over the unconscious reactions which 
would otherwise ensue in response to the impressions 
from without, which are affecting him on every side. 
This control is one of the actions which we perform 
through the convolutions. 
The part of which we have been speaking is called 
the cerebrum; it is the brain properly so called, and 
consists of two hemispheres, which are shown in Fig. 7 
(see also Fig. 1). These two hemispheres are inti- 
mately connected with one another by several sets 
of fibres, which pass in various directions from one PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
to the other. What precise relations they bear to 
each other, and how far they are distinct in their 
Fig. 7. 
a. The hemispheres, h. The central ganglia—of sensation and 
motion, c. The cerebellum, or little brain, d. The crossing of the 
fibres in the spinal cord. e. The nerve of smell. /. The nerve of 
sight. (This figure shows the inferior surface of the brain, part of 
which is cut away.) 
THE COURSE OF THE NERVE FIBRES IN THE BEAUT. 
use, is not yet fully known. But there is evidence 
that they have to some extent separate offices. The THE BRAIN AND ITS SERVANTS. 
most striking instance as yet known of this is the 
fact, only recently discovered, that disease of a certain 
part of the left side destroys the power of speech, 
which disease of the right side has not been observed 
to do. Each half of the brain is connected by its 
nerves with the opposite side of the body • the fibres 
crossing in the spinal cord, as seen in Fig. 7. 
Besides this brain proper, or cerebrum, there is also 
contained within the skull a lesser brain, or cerebellum 
(Fig. 6, /; Fig. 7, c). This lies at the posterior and 
inferior part of the cerebrum, and is connected in the 
same way with the fibres of the spinal cord, and the 
two brains are intimately connected together. In 
structure the cerebellum corresponds very closely to 
the cerebrum. It also contains a group of cells in 
the centre, and is covered with a layer of cells ex- 
ternally, also arranged in convolutions; but these 
are very closely arranged, so as to represent on section 
an appearance like a tree (hence fancifully called the 
Arbor Vitce, or “Tx-ee of see Fig. 7, c). So far 
as is yet known, the office of this lesser brain is to 
regulate and harmonise the movements of the muscles. 
As the brain-fibres spread out into the hemispheres 
of the great and little brain, they diverge from each 
other towards either side, and are again folded over 
upon themselves, so as to leave in the centre a series 20 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
of small cavities, winch, are called the ct ventricles of 
the brain.” Through those spaces blood-vessels pass 
in and out, and these internal cavities, as well as a nar- 
row space around the brain and cord, are filled with, 
a watery fluid, which gives these organs the most equal 
and gentle support in all directions, and does very much 
to guard them from shocks and jars. This watery 
fluid is included in a firm bag of membrane folded 
all around the brain, and this bag is lined on the 
inside by a very delicate membrane full of blood- 
vessels, which dips down between all the convolu- 
tions, and feeds all the cells with a rich supply of 
blood. Outside of it, and binding it to the skull, 
there is another membrane, tough and strong. 
We have thus given a very brief outline of the ner- 
vous system as it exists in man, and have seen that 
it consists of several distinct systems united into one. 
We may shortly sum it up by imagining—and the 
imagination strictly represents the truth—that there 
are in ourselves four distinct kinds of lives. First, 
there is a life which has to do with the mere growth 
and support of the bodily structure—which digests 
food, and circulates blood, and removes the products of 
decay. This life is carried on by a set of nerves and 
ganglia of its own, called the sympathetic, which has 
its chief seat around the stomach. Secondly, there THE BRAIN AND ITS SERVANTS. 
21 
is a life of movement, prompted by external impres- 
sions alone, without consciousness—a life of reflex 
action, as it is called; this has its seat in the spinal 
cord. Thirdly, there is a life similar to the last, but 
of a higher kind, such as we see manifested, for 
example, in the instincts of the bee; the seat of this 
is, probably, in the central ganglia of the brain. And, 
fourthly, there is the life of reason and of will, of 
which the convolutions are the instrument. 
In the three lower forms of nerve-life, we have seen, 
the rule of action is that of simple reflection of im- 
pressions, with more or less of directness or of com- 
bination. In the highest form the law is modified, 
and instead of a mere reflection of force according to 
the nature of the impression, processes of thought and 
feeling are elicited, and results are varied according 
to the character of the man. But though the law is 
modified, it is not done away, and in the highest 
sphere of life instances are still met with of simple 
reflex action. This is exhibited in the most striking 
and interesting way in the form of habits. 
As the child’s powers advance with advancing age 
more and more actions, which at first required thought 
and an effort of the will, become drawn within the 
sphere of the unconscious and involuntary activity. 
Almost every action indeed—even the most compli- 22 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
cated and difficult—which, is habitually practised, be- 
comes thus more or less independent of the will, and 
makes less and less demand on thought. In this 
consists, in part, the skill of the artist or artisan (who 
should always be truly an artist also). His hands 
pass almost unconsciously over his work, which is the 
better done, in truth, for this unconsciousness. We 
may convince ourselves of this by a trivial example. 
How easily we tie a bow, while we are thinking all 
the while of something entirely different! But let us 
direct our attention to the bow we are tying, and think 
of each step in the process, and the chances are we 
get puzzled, and bungle over it. It is the same in the 
execution of music, which would seem to require an 
attention so exact and unremitting. Instances have 
certainly occurred in which performers have lost their 
consciousness for a few moments, and have yet con- 
tinued playing in perfect time. And in those almost 
more wonderful performances, which yet attract no 
wonder because they are universal—such as the func- 
tion of speech, the act of walking, or the maintenance 
of the erect position—the working of the same law is 
seen. Our words almost form themselves; the mind 
is occupied exclusively with the matter. In walking, 
we take no thought to secure the movement of our 
limbs; nay, they may even take us where we would THE BRAIN AND ITS SERVANTS. 
23 
not. Often it has happen ed that a man absorbed in 
thought has walked, not where he meant, but where 
he has been used, to go. And that unceasing muscu- 
lar play, whereby alone the body can be kept duly 
poised upon the feet in standing, though it takes the 
infant long to acquire it, entirely escapes the conscious- 
ness of the adult. All these and innumerable other 
actions essential to our well-being, the reflex nervous 
system takes by degrees upon itself, and thus ensures 
for us (at least until decay begins) a continual ex- 
tension of our powers, and an ever-increasing possi- 
bility of concentrating them on moral and intellectual 
ends. 
And thus, again, the study of our bodily structure 
enforces the highest moral lessons. The enlargement 
of the intellectual and moral nature, as it is one of 
our deepest religious duties, so it is also the road to 
the highest physical development. That is the most 
perfect condition of the nervous system in which its 
various parts are most thoroughly united in their 
operation, so that it acts completely as a whole. And 
this is only when the powers of each part are fully 
brought out, the subordinate portions discharging every 
function within their power, and the higher freely exer- 
cised on its appropriate objects. For thus only is it 
that each portion of the complex system transmits its PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
24 
full influence to tlie rest—an influence which is of 
the utmost importance to each. Of the importance of 
the healthy influence of the lower nervous system 
upon the higher, we have ample evidence in the im- 
paired activity of mind, and the disordered and morbid 
state of the emotions, which accompany derangements 
of the digestive or circulating organs; and that the in- 
fluence of the higher ganglia of the brain is not less 
important for the inferior nervous centres is proved by 
the effect on all the processes of life of prolonged or 
violent mental disturbance. How easily ill-news de- 
stroys the appetite, or the mere idea of a disgusting 
object excites nausea! The very thought of food in- 
creases the saliva and the gastric juice, while violent 
distress of mind will so derange the secretion of a 
mother’s milk as to make it poisonous to her babe. 
We see evidence, again, of the beneficial physical 
influence of a due exercise of the moral and intellectual 
faculties, in the improvement which ensues even in the 
bodily conformation of a race under the influence of 
good mental culture continued through a few genera- 
tions. ' Not only does the contour of the skull and 
features become more noble, but the organs univer- 
sally respond to the stimulus, and the whole frame 
gains in elegance, delicacy, and even in comparative 
vigour. Nor is the cause of this benefit arising from THE BRAIN AND ITS SERVANTS. 
25 
high mental exercise hard to discover. All action 
within the body is attended with the production of 
force, and no action more abundantly than that of 
the convolutions of the brain. This force radiates 
from the convolutions to the nerves throughout the 
body, supplying them with the healthiest of all 
stimuli, and one which the very structure of the ner- 
vous system proves that they were designed to re- 
ceive. It cannot be withheld from them—as it is by 
indolent or grovelling thought—but to their detriment. 
It is no argument against this statement that over- 
taxing of the brain, or a life passed in sedentary 
study, injures the health. Rather these are confirma- 
tory facts; for the first proves the influence of brain- 
action over the whole body, and the second, while it 
shows indeed that exercise of other organs besides 
the brain is needed, proves at the same time that 
brain-exercise is good. For, however much a seden- 
tary life of study may tend to debilitate (and, with 
good management, this is less than is often supposed), 
a sedentary life of mental indolence tends to debilitate 
much more. Mental indolence is bad even when 
combined with bodily exertion, but with bodily indo- 
lence as well, it is ten times worse. No constitutions 
are so morbid as those by which no work is done. 
At the same time, mental work is apt to bo over- 26 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. - 
strained, especially by those who most intensely feel 
its charms. One of the most frequent signs of this, 
when carried to a great extreme, is a morbid desire 
for suicide, which perhaps is really, at bottom, an un- 
appeasable craving for rest. Some melancholy cases 
of self-destruction, which have excited the liveliest 
public regret, are clearly traceable to their cause in 
mental overwork. It is enough to mention Hugh 
Miller, and the great meteorologist Admiral Fitzroy. 
The first indications of any such temptation should be 
carefully observed, and rest taken in time. But rest 
for an overtaxed brain is not always easy to procure, 
even when no external circumstances render it diffi- 
cult. An excited and over-stimulated mind will not 
rest, and to insist on resting it is often as futile as 
trying to go to sleep when we are not sleepy. A 
merely passive condition cannot at once be substituted 
for one of nervous restlessness. The true rest for a 
wearied brain is change to some unexciting yet useful 
occupation, with as much of the nature of service in it 
as possible, that the thoughts may be taken from 
ourselves; and the nearer it approaches to manual 
labour the better. Often a strong effort and a great 
sacrifice are required to achieve the change, but 
they are well rewarded. But, of course, in such 
cases medical advice should be taken. THE BE AIN ANN ITS SERVANTS. 
27 
One caution, in respect to mental exertion, it is 
well to remember—and tliat is, that it cannot be 
safely carried on, in any very great degree, at tlie 
same time witli very severe bodily exertion. At least 
tins is true of many persons, if not of all. The 
double tax upon the system is too great. And this 
should be remembered in respect to the condition of 
the labouring people. It is a doubly cruel wrong to 
inflict upon them an overtask; it condemns their 
minds, their hearts, to loss. 
But much less injury to health is done by over- 
exertion of the nervous system in any legitimate oc- 
cupation, than by the waste of nerve-power in the 
form of worry and useless vexation. All feelings of 
this kind consume force, and in addition propagate a 
deteriorating influence wherever a nerve-fibre goes. 
But here Physiology can but proclaim the want: it 
is Religion must supply the remedy. Contentment 
must be learnt from other pages than those which 
prove to us that the indulgence of vain desire is 
hurtful to our bodies. Yet even this lesson may not 
be in vain if it adds to our assurance that He who 
has thus made us incapable of too great a weight of 
care, makes no vain promise when He bids us cast 
our care on Him. 
But there are also physiological reliefs to worry. 28 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
One is a full absorption of tlie mind on objects of 
wholesome interest. There is a case on record of a 
gentleman affected with signs of incipient insanity- 
after great anxiety in business, who freed himself 
entirely from them by resolutely studying mathe- 
matics. And if we cannot all be students, helping 
others in their troubles is a resource always at hand, 
and never ineffective in aiding us to forget our own. 
Another relief lies in an improvement of the bodily 
conditions, which may often be brought about by very 
simple means, such as a better ventilation of our rooms, 
or a little more exercise in the open air. One of 
the most important laws to remember respecting the 
nervous system is, that its activity is prompted and 
regulated by external impressions, its object being 
emphatically to bring us into relation with the ex- 
ternal world. Its health accordingly demands that 
these impressions should be transmitted to it in due 
abundance and of the right kind; and two of the 
chief sources from which they arise are the skin and the 
lungs. Hence, besides the primary necessity of fresh 
air to breathe, and pure water to wash in, for the 
needful purification of the blood, these have another 
use, only second in importance to the first—that of 
feeding, by the influx of pleasurable sensations, the 
very life of the brain. Hence the immediate exhila- THE BRAIN AND ITS SERVANTS. 
29 
ration felt on drawing a deep breath of purer air, 
and the keen sense of enjoyment which follows a 
bath. It is not long before the blood, and through 
it the whole body, feels the influence of these bene- 
ficial agents; but the brain, through its quicker 
messengers., responds at once. 
It is in all probability chiefly on a healthful supply 
of impressions through the skin and lungs that the 
pleasurable condition which we call a good “ tone>y 
consists. By these the brain is kept, as it were, girt 
up, and the man is possessed with a delicious half- 
consciousness of latent power. 
The very opposite condition to this is that most 
wretched one in which every organ of the body seems 
to send to the brain its own special sensation of dis- 
tress, and life becomes little else than a morbid feeling 
of the body. Sometimes this kind of suffering depends 
on deep-seated disease, and requires, even if it does 
not baffle, the utmost skill of the physician \ but at 
others it is greatly the result of an unwise direction of 
the thoughts, and can be greatly amended by a resolute 
effort to divert them into more natural channels. 
The fact is, that thought directed to our own bodily 
organs is a violation of one of the main laws of our 
nervous system, which provides that all the vital pro- 
cesses shall be carried on by an unconscious me- PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
30 
clianism. We cannot bi’ing the brain to bear upon 
those parts of our bodily life which are committed to 
the inferior portions of the nervous system, without 
deranging brain and body alike. The nervous power 
thus sent in excess to organs already amply supplied, 
acts as a disturbing agent upon them; while, at tho 
same time, abnormal channels, as it were, are opened 
from the lower ganglia to the convolutions, through 
which useless impressions, all of them painful, gain 
access to our consciousness. It is most important to 
avoid anything like a concentration of our thoughts 
upon any of the vital processes. 
It is scarcely necessary to refer again to the in- 
fluence which the emotions exert over the body, of 
which we are conscious every hour, alike in love or 
anger, hope or fear. Yet it may not be amiss to 
remark that the morally good emotions are more 
healthful than the contrary ones. Selfishness, cruelty, 
jealousy, rage, are slow poisons to the blood; all that 
produce happiness are cordials. But it did not need the 
advance of modern science to teach us how “a cheerful 
countenance doeth good like a medicine/'* 
But one thing we have come to understand better 
in modern times, and that is, why too stern a control 
of the expression of emotion preys upon health; why con- 
cealment acts especially the part of the worm in the bud. THE BRAIN AND ITS SERVANTS. 
All emotions are attended with, clianges in tlie convolu- 
tions of the brain, and these changes generate a force 
which must operate in some way. The natural actions by 
which the passions express themselves are the channels 
provided by nature for this force, which thus contri- 
butes to the grace and dignity and joy of life; or at 
least provides signals of danger. But there is risk 
alike in the too free indulgence of these natural ex- 
pressions, and in their absolute repression; the former 
tends to give passion too great a mastery over us, the 
latter forces the power which would thus innocently 
expend itself into hurtful channels. Thrown back ab- 
solutely upon the internal organs, the force which 
emotion generates deranges the operation of the other 
nervous centres, and may be the starting-point of lung 
disease. On similar grounds exercise is found a 
remedy for many forms of nerve distress. The over- 
excited brain is relieved by muscular exertions which 
tend to draw off its force. 
But to attempt to point out all the relations which 
the nervous system bears to the other bodily powers 
would be an endless task. They intermingle at all 
points. It is happy for us that amid so much evidence 
of the subjection of the mind to the demands of its 
material servant, we can point to so much evidence of 
its freedom. The cases are not few in which the PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
soul has soared in the highest regions while the body 
has been sinking under the most dire disease. Much 
of man’s noblest work has been done with fainting 
hands, and amid pangs of agony; and, thank God, 
much more will be. 11. 
THE FACULTY OF HEARING. 
How low down in the animal creation the sense of 
heaiang extends, it is not possible positively to say. It 
seems probable, however, that some at least of the insect 
tribe possess it. But it is first in animals like the 
lobster that an ear, though of the simplest construction, 
can be distinctly shown to exist. By careful looking, 
this ear may be found at the upper part of the second 
pair of feelers, in the lobster or the crab, and it con- 
sists of a very small bag, filled with a watery fluid, 
and covered in externally by a strong membrane. On 
the internal surface of this bag a nerve spreads itself 
out, which nerve carries the effect of the motions of 
the fluid to the brain—such brain as the creature has. 
A nerve and a little bag of water, accessible to the 
vibrations of the air, constitute an ear; and however 
complicated the ear may become in the higher animals 
and ourselves, as we shall see that it does, it always 
retains this character: it is, at the bottom, a bag of 
watery fluid and a nerve. 
The next step towards making the ear more per- PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
34 
feet is one that might well seem to be the way to 
destroy it altogether ; it is patting stones into 
it; and these stones once put in are never again 
left out. They are present, though in the form of 
a very fine powder, in the innermost part of our 
own ears. But they are not always a fine powder; 
sometimes they are large bony masses, especi- 
ally in the less perfect ears, such as those of 
fishes. The ear-stones (otoliths) may be easily found 
in a cod's head, lying a short distance behind the eye 
and within the skull; they are dense white bodies, often 
nearly an inch long, of a flattened oval form, and grooved 
upon their surface. Their object is to make the vibra- 
tions of the fluid contained in the bag more. powerful. 
If we fill a bladder with water and give it a gentle tap 
we may feel a tremulous motion run to and fro within 
it. But if we put into it a few marbles, and then tap 
it, these- will give a much more distinct sensation. But 
by examining a cod's or salmon's head (which may be 
cooked), not only may the ear-stones be discovered, 
but also the ear-bag. And it will be noticed to have 
a very remarkable form. It is no longer, as in the 
lobster, a mere roundish bladder; at first sight it might 
almost be said to resemble a large white spider. It has 
a body and limbs, but the limbs are peculiar. Fig. 1 
will explain its form. From the central sac, which THE FACULTY OF HEARING. 
35 
consists of two portions, there pass off three tubes, 
which return to the sac again, near the point from 
which they start. At one end each tube has an en- 
largement ; it seems to swell out into a bulb, and here 
as well as in the central sac the nerve is distributed. 
Now because these tubes pass from the sac and return 
Fig. 1. 
EAE OF THE SALMON. 
a. Membranous sac in which the nerve is spread out. b. b. b. Semicir- 
cular canals, c. c. c. Enlargements at the commencement of the canals, 
in which the nerve is also spread out. Above are the ear-stones con- 
tained in the sac of the salmon’s ear. 
to it again, the sac is called the “ vestibule ” or common 
hall; and the tubes are called the semi-circular canals 
(though they are not exactly semi-circular); and this 
with another superadded part continues to be the form 
of the nervous portion of the ear in all animals and in 
ouiselves, the superadded part is like a shell (see 36 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
shell, of a tube winding around a central axis, and 
growing larger as it winds. The reason for this form 
we shall see hereafter. Birds and mammals and man 
possess it, though birds have it in a less perfect form. 
In them it is a curved tube something like a small boat, 
and not spirally arranged. Because, however, it is for 
the most part in the form of a spiral shell, it is 
called “the cochlea.” 
The sac, the three tubes, the spiral canal, then, make 
up the nervous part of the ear—vestibule, semi-circular 
canals, and cochlea. A wonderful structure, undoubt- 
edly; and so the anatomists who first discovered it 
thought; for they called it the labyrinth. We will 
speak more of it by-and-by; for the present we will 
return to our codfish. 
Though he, in common with the rest of his kind, 
hears very well, there is no external sign of his having 
any ear at all. The sac and its canals, with the audi- 
tory nerve expanded within them, constitute his whole 
organ of hearing, and they simply lie in contact with 
the inner surface of the skull. There is no membrane 
to receive vibrations from without, and pass them 
onwards. The reason of this is that water transmits 
vibrations so powerfully—much more powerfully than 
air—to solid bodies, that the bones of the fish's head 
suffice to convey sounds to the nerve. Except the THE FACULTY OF HEARING. 
37 
whale, and the other water-inhabiting mammals (which 
have ears like their air-breathing fellows, though some- 
what modified), animals which live habitually in water 
hear through the bones of the skull; and their ear con- 
sists only of the nerve and the fluid-containing mem- 
branous bag on which it is spread out. But for air- 
breathing animals this would not suffice. The air passes 
on its vibrations to the skull far too feebly to serve the 
purposes for which hearing is needed, and accordingly an 
apparatus is required for conveying the vibrations of 
the atmosphere, which constitute sound, to the nerve 
appointed to receive them. This apparatus answers to 
the transparent parts of the eye, which afford a free 
passage to the light, and constitutes the second or outer 
portion of the ear. It has many forms in various classes 
of animals, but all are framed upon one plan, and it 
will suffice if we describe it briefly as it is met with in 
ourselves. 
The outer ear, though probably not without a certain 
amount of use, appears to exist in man chiefly for 
beauty’s sake. In many animals, however, it is of 
great importance, being, in fact, a natural hearing- 
trumpet. Humboldt relates that, in South America, 
the troops of wild horses that traverse the country 
divide themselves, as regards the direction given to 
their ears, into three sets. Those which lead the van PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
38 
direct them forward, those in the centre turn them to 
the side, and the hindmost set them to the rear; so that 
the whole troop is made aware, in the acutest way, of 
danger threatening from any quarter. 
The passage which leads inwards from the outer ear 
is slightly curved, and in adults is about an inch and 
a half in length; in children, however, it is much shal- 
lower, having a depth in the infant of scarcely half an 
inch. It is of oval form, and about its centre is fur- 
nished with a broadish ring of small glands which 
secrete the light brown semi-solid substance known as 
the ear-wax. At the bottom of this passage is fixed 
the membrane (Fig. 2, a) commonly called the “drum 
of the ear;” but not correctly; a drum being, not a 
membrane, but a hollow space closed on one or more 
sides by membrane. The membrane to which the ex- 
ternal passage leads constitutes the outer side of a cavity 
hollowed in the bone (Fig. 2, h), which cavity is the 
drum of the ear, and contains several important parts. 
First, there is the membrane itself, a beautiful struc- 
ture, made up of fine fibres, some radiating from the 
central part to the circumference, others arranged in 
concentric rings; and it is lined on the outer side by 
•a very fine layer of skin, and on the inner by an equally 
fine layer of cellular membrane. It is almost trans- 
parent, and though moderately strong, is little thicker THE FACULTY OF HEARING. 
39 
than gold-beaters’ skin. Being kept gently on the 
stretch, it thrills to every whisper, and two small mus- 
Kg. 2. 
VIEW OF THE HUMAN EAR, AS SEEN ON A SECTION FROM ABOVE DOWNWARDS. 
a. The membrane of the drum. b. The cavity of the drum. c. The 
chain of bones, d. The tube leading into the throat (the Eustachian 
tube), e. The vestibule. /. /. Openings of two of the canals into the 
vestibule. The thin membranous parts in which the nerve is contained 
are supposed to be removed; see Fig. 4. g. The cochlea, h. Nerve of 
hearing. 
cles keep it in the most delicate adjustment to eacli 
varying impulse with which the air comes laden. One 40 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
of these muscles draws it tighter, the other loosens it, 
hy acting upon a chain of very small bones (Pig. 2, c), 
which pass, suspended as it were in mid air, and 
swinging with every breath, across the drum, from 
the membrane to the nerve. This chain of bones an- 
swers two purposes:—First, it receives vibrations from 
the membrane, and conveys them to the labyrinth; 
and secondly, it adjusts both the membrane, and the 
fluid which surrounds the nerve, to the various kinds 
and pitches of sound by which they are affected. 
Besides the membrane already described, there is a 
second smaller membrane opposite to it; that is, 
on the inner wall of the drum, which closes in the 
spiral canal before mentioned, in which one part of the 
nerve is spread out. The use of this second membrane 
is not yet fully determined. 
Lastly, a tube about two inches long leads from the 
drum into the throat, called, from its discoverer, 
Eustachius, the “Eustachian tube” (Fig. 2, d). The use 
of this tube is twofold. First, it supplies the drum 
with air, and keeps the membrane exactly balanced, 
and free to move, with equal air-pressure on each side; 
and, secondly, it carries off any fluid which may be 
in the drum, and prevents it from being choked by 
its own moisture. It is not always open, however, 
but is opened during the act of swallowing, by a. little THE FACULTY OF HEARING. 
41 
muscle which is attached to it just as it reaches the 
throat. Most persons can distinctly feel that this is 
the case, by gently closing the nose and swallowing; 
when a distinct sensation is felt in the ears. This 
sensation is due to a little air being drawn out of the 
ears through the open tube during swallowing ; and it 
lasts for a few minutes, unless the air is again restored 
by swallowing with the nose unclosed, which allows 
for the moment a free communication between the ear 
and the throat. "We thus see a reason for the tube 
being closed. If it were always open, all the sounds 
produced in the throat would pass directly into the 
drum of the ear and totally confuse us. AATe should hear 
every breath, and live in a constant bewilderment of 
internal sounds. At the same time the closure, being 
but a light contact of the walls of the tube, easily allows 
a slight escape of air from the drum, and thus not only 
facilitates and regulates the oscillations of the air before 
the vibrating membrane, but provides a safety-valve, 
to a certain extent, against the injurious influence of 
loud sounds. 
The chief use of the Eustachian tube is to allow a 
free interchange of air between the ear and the throat 
and this is exceedingly important; and it is very im- 
portant also that its use in this respect should be under- 
stood. Persons who go down in diving-bells soon begin 42 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
to feel a great pressure in tlie ears, and if the depth 
is great, the feeling becomes extremely painful. This 
arises from the fact, that in the diving-bell the pressure 
of the air is very much increased, in order to balance 
the weight of the water above; and thus it presses with 
great force upon the membrane of the drum, which, 
if the Eustachian tube has been kept closed, has only 
the ordinary uncompressed air on the inner side to sus- 
tain it. It is therefore forced inwards and put upon 
the stretch, and might be even broken. Many cases, 
indeed, have occurred of injury to the ear, producing 
permanent deafness, from descents in diving-bells, under- 
taken by persons ignorant of the way in which the 
ear is made; though the simple precaution of frequent 
swallowing suffices to ward off all mischief. For if 
the Eustachian tube is thus opened, again and again, 
as the pressure of the outside air increases, the same 
compressed air that exists outside passes also into the 
inside of the drum, and the membrane is equally pressed 
upon from both sides by the air, and so is free from 
strain. The same precaution is necessary in ascending 
mountains that are lofty, for then there is the same 
effect of stretching produced upon the membrane, though 
in the opposite way. The outside air becoming less 
and less condensed as a greater height is gained, the 
ordinary air contained within the drum presses upon THE FACULTY OF HEARING. 
43 
tlie membrane, which is thus insufficiently supported on 
the outside, and a similar feeling of weight and stretch- 
ing is produced. The conjuror’s trick of breaking a 
vase by a word rests on the same principle. The air 
is exhausted from within, and the thin though massive 
looking sides of the vase collapse by' the pressure of 
the air outside; and just as ever so small a hole made 
at the light moment in the side of the vase, would pre- 
vent the whole effect, so does swallowing, which makes 
a little hole, as it were, for the moment in the drum 
of the ear, prevent the in-pressing or out-pressing of 
the membrane. Mr. Tyndall, in his interesting book 
on Sound, tells us how he employed this precaution of 
swallowing, and with entire success, when, in one of his 
mountain excursions, the pressure on his ears became 
severely painful. 
Deafness during colds arises very often, though 
not always, from a similar cause. For when, owing 
to swelling of the throat, the Eustachian tube cannot be 
opened by its muscle, and so the air in the drum is 
not renewed, the air that is contained in it soon 
diminishes, and the outer air presses the membrane in, 
so that it cannot vibrate as it should. This is what 
has been sometimes called “ throat-deafness.55 
The two little muscles that stretch and relax the 
membrane of the drum are shown in Fig. which 44 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
represents a horizontal section of the ear. Each of 
them passes through a little pulley of bone, and that 
which relaxes the membrane is shut up in bone alto- 
gether except its tendon. One moves the bone that 
Fig. 3. 
MUSCLES OE THE DEUM. 
a. The meatus, h. The membrane of the drum. c. The hone 
attached to the membrane (called from its form the malleus or “ham- 
mer”). d. The bone which is in contact with the labyrinth (called the 
stapes, or “stirrup*’). The hone which lies between these (see Fig. 2) 
is omitted; it is called the incus or “anvil.” e. The muscle which 
stretches the membrane ; its tendon passes found a little hook of hone, 
and then crosses the drum to he attached to the malleus. /. The muscle 
which relaxes the membrane (the bone being cut away to show it). It 
is attached to the stapes, which it turns slightly on its axis and draws 
outwards, g. g. The two membranous sacs which make up the vestibule, 
and which are on the same plan as in the salmon (see Fig. 1). h. The 
cochlea, i. The plate which winds around the central axis of the 
cochlea, and on which the nerve is spread out. This plate divides at its 
outer part into two layers, forming another very minute canal, k. The 
nerve, which is seen divided into its three branches. 
is attached to the membrane, drawing it inwards when it 
contracts; the other moves the bone which touches the 
fluid that surrounds the nerve, drawing it outwards, THE FACULTY OF HEALING. 
45 
and letting tlie membrane fall back again. It will be 
noticed tbat the membrane is not placed straight at 
the bottom of the passage, but slants inwards, and is 
besides drawn a little inwards at the centre, through 
being attached to a small rod of bone, about a third of 
an inch long, which keeps it in its position. (See a, 
Fig. 2.) This little rod is part of the movable chain of 
bones, and upon it the muscle which stretches the 
membrane acts. The membrane is held slightly on 
the stretch by a small firm band which passes with the 
tendon of this muscle across the drum. Thus it is kept 
in tune for ordinary sounds, without needing a constant 
action of the muscle. 
We may now leave the outer part of the ear, designed 
for conducting sound to the nerve, and turn again, 
for a minute, to the labyrinth in which the nerve comes 
out to meet the sound. (See Tig. 4.) The central 
sac or vestibule, and the three canals with their ex- 
pansions, we have already described. Besides the fine 
powder these parts contain, which is seen under the 
microscope to consist of little oval crystals scattered 
among the minute fibres of the nerve, they are pro- 
vided also in some cases, with a number of delicate 
hairs, by means of which the motions of the small 
crystals are no doubt rendered still more sensible. 
All these parts are hollowed in the solid bone—the 46 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
hardest bone in the body; it is called by anatomists 
the rockbone.* The delicate membrane in which the 
nerve is expanded lies in smooth rocky channels, floating 
in a limpid fluid, which at once surrounds and fills it. 
Fia. 4. 
THE LABYRINTH. 
a. Nerve passing to the cochlea, b. Nerve passing to the vestibule. 
c. The bone surrounding the vestibule and the semicircular canals, d. 
The sac of the vestibule, e. The membranous canals. /. /. The 
enlargements on the canals, in which, and in the vestibule, the nerve is 
expanded. 
This is separated from the drum by a thin wall of bone, 
and in this wall the chain of small bones that passes 
across the drum ends. The chain terminates in a little 
oval plate, moving lightly to and fro, like a minute 
* The “ petrous ” portion of the temple bone. The word is the same 
as that from which the Apostle Peter—the Eock—received his name. THE FACULTY OF HEARING. 
47 
piston in a very shallow cylinder. (See Fig. 3, d.) If 
this little piston will not move (which again may be a 
result of “ colds,})} there is another cause of deafness. 
One word we must still devote to tlie second part of 
the labyrinth—the shell-like spiral canal (or cochlea) 
Fig. 4. This, too, is hollowed in the bone, and its very 
form tells the story of its use. For as the canal, from 
being exceedingly minute, becomes larger and larger, 
it gives space for the arrangement of a series of little 
vibratile chords or fibres, of gradually increasing length 
(such as the wires of a pianoforte may roughly represent). 
These little fibres respond, each of them, to a certain 
pitch of sound, and are connected each with its own 
nervous twig. And as in the two turns and a half 
which the cochlea makes, there are many thousands 
of these vibratile fibres, ample provision is made for all 
the immense variety of notes and modulations which 
our ears are called on to receive. By means of the 
sac and the canals we are made conscious of mere noises, 
such as the tick of a watch or the rumbling of a waggon j 
by means of the cochlea we appreciate music and under- 
stand the voice.* 
* This is the view of the cochlea which Helmholtz has done so much 
to render probable. It is supported, not only by the minute anatomy of 
the organ, but by many curious peculiarities of hearing. There are per- 
sons living who can carry on conversation without much difficulty, but 48 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Thus, according to the number of the fibres in the 
cochlea, and the pitch to which, we may say, they are 
tuned, will be the number and the pitch of the different 
sounds which we can distinguish; and this differs in 
different persons, especially in respect to the higher 
notes. There are many persons who hear well enough, 
yet who never heard the high shrill note of the cricket. 
And when a sound is made to rise gradually higher 
and higher, different persons cease to hear it at different 
times. 
This is but a poor and partial account of a wonderful 
organ, of which those who know most have still very 
much indeed to learn. There is much in it to excite our 
wonder; but, above all, we cannot but stand in amaze- 
ment before the question: How is it that the motion of 
the air, the vibration of the membrane, the trembling of 
the fluid, should impress us with the feeling of a sound; 
should hold us rapt as music does, or thrill us with 
ecstasy in the tones of a voice we love? That is the 
great mystery of all the senses. We cannot penetrate 
it yet; but we can feel, and ought to feel, how won- 
derful it makes the world. That which seems mere 
motion in the ear, and in the nerve, turns into joy or 
who cannot hear sounds of a high pitch, not even a railway whistle; and 
others who can hear a watch tick well, but can scarcely hear music or 
spoken words. 7HE FACULTY OF HEARING. 
49 
sorrow in the soul: it is the source and instrument of 
aspiration, the vehicle of prayer. If it is all this to us, 
what must it be to God, who made it, and knows it 
perfectly ? 
All the structures that have been described are means 
used to bring sound from the outer air to our brains, 
in order that we may hear. Every condition is fulfilled ; 
every step fully prepared for. Nothing is slurred over, 
nothing omitted, or half done. And it is so all through 
the world. There is no slovenliness in Nature’s work ; 
no grasping at quick ends, and grudging of the means; 
for every result the full equivalent is given. This is 
God s choice j the mode He takes of working. And 
he who tries or wishes to do otherwise, to take short 
cuts, or get results without full work performed, thinks 
himself wiser than his Maker. 
There are several things very commonly done which 
are extremely injurious to the ear, and ought to be 
carefully avoided. Those who have followed the pre- 
vious description will easily understand the reason. 
And first, children’s ears ought never to be boxed. 
We have seen that the passage of the ear is closed by 
a thin membrane, especially adapted to be influenced by 
every impulse of the air, and with nothing but the air 
to support it internally. What, then, can be more 
likely to injure this membrane than a sudden and PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
forcible compression of the air in front of it ? If any 
one designed to break or overstretch the membrane, 
be could scarcely devise a more effective means than 
to bring the hand suddenly and forcibly down upon 
the passage of the ear, thus driving the air violently 
before it, with no possibility for its escape but by the 
membrane giving way. And far too often it does give 
way, especially if, from any previous disease, it has been 
weakened. Many children are made deaf by boxes 
on the ear in this way. 
Nor is this the only way in which injury follows: if 
there is one thing which does the nerve of hearing more 
harm than almost any other, it is a sudden jar or shock. 
Children and grown persons alike may be entirely 
deafened by falls or heavy blows upon the head. And 
boxing the ears produces a similar effect, though more 
slowly and in less degree. It tends to dull the sensibility 
of the nerve, even if it does not hurt the membrane. 
I knew a pitiful case, once, of a poor youth who died 
from a disease of the ear. He had had a dis- 
charge from it since he was a child. Of course his 
hearing had been dull; and what had happened was 
that his father had often boxed his ear for inattention ! 
Most likely that boxing on the ear, diseased as it was, 
had much to do with his dying. 
And this brings me to the second point. Children THE FACULTY OF HEARING. 
should never be blamed for being inattentive, until 
it has been found out whether they are not a little 
deaf. This is easily done by placing them at a few 
yards’ distance, and trying whether they can under- 
stand what is said to them in a rather low tone of 
voice. Each ear should be tried, while the other is 
stopped by the finger. I do not say that children are 
never guilty of inattention, especially to that which they 
do not particularly wish to hear; but I do say that very 
many children are blamed and punished for inattention 
when they really do not hear. And there is nothing at 
once more cruel and more hurtful to the character of 
children than to be found fault with for what is really 
tlieii misfortune. Three things should be remembered 
heie : 1. That slight degrees of deafness, often lasting 
only for a time, are very common among children, 
especially during or after colds. 2. That a slight deaf- 
ness, which does not prevent a person from hearing 
when he is expecting to be spoken to,' will make him 
very dull to what he is not expecting: and 3. That 
there is a kind of deafness in which a person can hear 
pretty well while listening, but is really very hard of 
hearing when not listening. 
The chief avoidable cause of deafness is catching cold, 
and whatever keeps us from colds helps us to preserve 
our hearing. We should do, therefore, those things 52 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
that help to keep colds away: of which the first is 
taking plenty of fresh air; the second using enough, 
hut not too much, cold water all over us, taking especial 
care to rub ourselves thoroughly dry, and never to let it 
chill us; and the third is to avoid draughts and wet, 
especially sitting in wet clothes, or being in close or very 
heated rooms. Bat there are some kinds of colds 
especially hurtful to the ear. One is sitting with the 
ear exposed to a side wind, as too many people do now 
on the roofs of omnibuses, and so on. We should always 
face the wind; then, if we are not chilled, it is hard to 
have too much of it. Another hurtful thing is letting 
rain or sleet drive into the ear, against which, if it were 
not that people do sometimes suffer from this cause, it 
would seem as if it could hardly be necessary to caution 
them. 
Another source of danger to the ear, however, arises 
from the very precautions which are sometimes taken 
against those last mentioned. Nothing is more 
natural than to protect the ear against cold by covering 
it with a piece of cotton wool; and this is most useful if 
it is done only on occasions of special exposure, as when 
a person is compelled to encounter a driving storm, or 
has to receive on one side of the head the force of a 
cutting wind. But it is astonishing in how many cases 
the cotton wool thus used, instead of being removed THE FACULTY OF HEARING. 
from the ear when the need for it has passed, is pushed 
down into the passage, and remains there, forming itself 
an obstruction to hearing, and becoming the cause of 
other mischiefs. Three separate pieces have sometimes 
been found thus pushed down, one upon the other. 
Paper rolled up, which is also used for protecting the 
ear when cotton wool is not at hand, is still more 
irritating when it is thus left unremoved. The way to 
avoid this accident, besides being careful not to forget, 
is to use a large piece of the wool, and to place it over,' 
rather than in, the passage. 
It should be remembered that constantly covering up 
the ear is adapted to injure it. On the whole, men, in 
whom the ear is habitually exposed, suffer if anything 
less from ear-disease than women, in whom it is so 
often covered. Nor can the “ hat ” be held an unsafe 
head-dress in this respect for the latter sex. But it is 
important that there should not be frequent changes, 
especially in cold weather, from a head-dress which 
covers to one which exposes the ear. It is better that 
the air should always have free access to it; but if this 
has not been the case, the summer should be chosen to 
make the change. 
All sorts of substances are sometimes put into the ear 
by children, who do it to themselves or to each other in 
ignorant play. If every parent and teacher warned his PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
children against doing this it would not be a useless 
precaution. When the accident happens, the chief 
danger is that o£ undue haste and violence. Such 
bodies should be removed by syringing with warm water 
alone, and no attempt should be made to lay hold of 
them or move them in any other way. It is enough to 
reflect, again, that the passage of the ear is closed 
by a delicate membrane to show the reason for this 
rule. When no severe pain follows, no alarm need be 
felt. It is important that the substance should be 
removed as speedily as is quite, safe, but there need 
never be impatience; nor should disappointment be felt 
if syringing needs to be repeated on many days before 
it effects its end. It will almost invariably succeed at 
last in the hands of a medical man, and is most effective 
if the ear is turned downwards, and syringed from below. 
Now and then an insect gets into the ear and causes 
great pain: the way to get rid of it is to pour oil into 
the ear. This suffocates the insect. 
There is another danger arising from boyish sports. 
Snowballs sometimes strike the ear, and the snow 
remaining in it sets up inflammation. This danger is 
increased by a practice which should be inadmissible, 
that of mixing small stones with the snow, which thus 
effect a lodgment in the ear. Care should be taken 
that no water remains in the passage. THE FACULTY OF HEARING. 
55 
Among the causes of injury to the ear must un- 
fortunately be reckoned bathing. Not that this most 
healthful and important pleasure need therefore be in 
the least discouraged; but it should be wisely regulated. 
Staying too long in the water certainly tends to produce 
deafness as well as other evils; and it is a practice 
against which young persons of both sexes should be 
carefully on their guard. But independently of this, 
swimming and floating are attended with a certain 
danger from the difficulty of preventing the entrance of 
Water into the ear in those positions. Now no cold fluid 
should ever enter the ear; cold water is always more or 
less irritating, and if used for syringing rapidly produces 
extreme giddiness. In the case of warm water its 
entrance into the ear is less objectionable, but even this 
is not free from disadvantage. Often the water lodges 
m the ears and produces an uncomfortable sensation till 
it is removed: this should always be taken as a sign 
of danger. That the risk to hearing from unwise 
bathing is not a fancy, is proved by the fact, well known 
to lovers of dogs, that those animals, if in the habit of 
jumping or being thrown into the water, so that their 
heads are covered, frequently become deaf. A know- 
ledge of the danger is a sufficient guard. To be safe it 
is only necessary to keep the water from entering the 
ear. If this cannot be accomplished otherwise, the head 56 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
may be covered. It should be added, however, that wet 
hair, whether from bathing or washing, may be a cause 
of deafness if it be suffered to dry by itself. Whenever 
wetted, the hair should be wiped till it is fairly dry. 
Nor ought the practice of moistening the hair with water 
to make it curl to pass without remonstrance. To leave 
wet hair about the ears is to run great risk of injuring 
them. In the washing of children, too, care should be 
taken that all the little folds of the outer ear are carefully 
dried, and gently, with a soft towel. 
But I come now to what is probably the most fre- 
quent way in which the ears are injured: that is, by 
the attempt to clean them. It ought to be understood 
that the passage of the ear does not require cleaning by 
us. Nature undertakes that task, and in the healthy 
state fulfils it perfectly. Her means for cleansing the 
ear is the wax. Perhaps the reader has never wondered 
what becomes of the ear-wax. I will tell him. It dries 
up into thin fine scales, and these peel off one by one 
from the surface of the passage, and fall out impercep- 
tibly, leaving behind them a perfectly clean smooth 
surface. In health the passage of the ear is never 
dirty; but if we attempt to clean it, we infallibly make 
it so. Here—by a strange lack of justice, as it would 
seem, which, however, has no doubt a deep justice at the 
bottom—the best people, and those who love cleanliness, THE FACULTY OF HEARING. 
57 
suffer most, and good and careful nurses do a mischief 
negligent ones avoid. Washing the ear out with soap and 
Water is bad; it keeps the wax moist when it ought to 
become dry and scaly, increases its quantity unduly, and 
makes it absorb the dust with which the air always 
abounds. But the most hurtful thing is introducing the 
corner of the towel screwed up, and twisting it round. 
.This does more barm to ears than all other mistakes 
together. It drives down the wax upon the membrane 
much more than it gets it out. Let any one who doubts 
this make a tube like the passage, especially with the 
curves which it possesses; let him put a thin membrane 
at one end, smear its inner.surface with a substance like 
the ear-wax, and then try to get it out so by a towel! 
But this plan does much more mischief than merely 
piessing down the wax. It irritates the passage, and 
makes it cast off small flakes of skin, which dry up, and 
become extremely hard, and these also are pressed down 
upon the membrane. Often it is not only deafness which 
ensues, but pain and inflammation, and then matter is 
formed which the hard mass prevents from escaping, and 
the membrane becomes diseased, and worse may follow. 
The ear should never he cleaned out with the screwed-up 
corner of a towel. Washing should extend only to the 
outer surface, as far as the finger can reach. 
Ear-picks, again, are bad. If there is any desire to 58 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
use them it shows that the ear is unhealthy; and it 
wants soothing, not picking. And there is another dan- 
ger from introducing any solid thing into the ear. The 
hand may get a push, and it may go to far. Many is 
the membrane that has thus been broken by a bodkin. 
Sportsmen sometimes have their membrane pierced by 
turning suddenly while getting through a hedge. And 
it even happens that a boy at school may put a pen 
close to another’s ear, in play, and call to him to make 
him turn his head; and the pen pierces the membrane. 
Very loud sounds may cause deafness, too. Artillery- 
men, and also eager sportsmen, and very zealous volun- 
teers, incur a danger from this cause. It is well to stop 
the ears when exposed to loud sounds, if possible; also 
to avoid belfries when the bells are about to ring. A 
man who was once shut up in one, became stone deaf 
before the peal was done. The sound of guns is more 
injurious to those who are in a confined space with them, 
and also if the mouth be open. Injury from loud 
sounds, also, is much more likely to occur if they are 
unexpected; for if they are anticipated, the membrane 
is prepared for them, without our knowledge, by its 
muscles. At certain points on the Rhine, it is, or was, 
the custom of the captain of the steamboat to fire a 
small cannon, to exhibit the echo. When this has been 
done without due warning, it has proved more than THE FACULTY OF HEARING. 
59 
once a cause of lasting deafness. Sometimes these loud 
sounds rupture the membrane; sometimes they deaden 
the nerve; the former is the least evil. 
It is a bad practice, also, to put cotton-wool soaked 
m laudanum or chloroform into the ear for the relief of 
toothache. It may be sometimes effectual, for the ner- 
vous connection between the teeth and the ear is very 
close. But the ear is far too delicate and valuable an 
organ to be used as a medium for the application of 
strong remedies for disorders of other and less important 
parts; and laudanum, and more especially chloroform, 
are powerful irritants. The teeth should be looked after 
m and for themselves, and if toothache spreads to the 
oar, that is the more reason for taking them thoroughly 
m hand; for prolonged pain in the head, arising from 
the teeth, may itself injure the hearing. 
When a child’s ear becomes painful, as it so often 
does, everything should be done to soothe it, and 
all strong irritating applications should be avoided. 
Pieces of hot fig or onion should not be put in; but 
dry flannels as hot as can be borne should be applied, 
with poppy fomentation if the pain does not soon 
subside. How much children suffer from their ears 
unpitied because unknown, it would probably wring 
the hearts of those who love them suddenly to discover. 
It is often very hard, even for medical men, to ascertain PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
that the cause of a young child’s distress is seated in 
the ear, and frequently a sudden discharge from it, with 
a cessation of pain, first reveals the secret of a mysterious 
attack, which has really been an inflammation of the 
drum. The watchfulness of a parent, however, would 
probably suffice to detect the cause of suffering if directed 
to this point, as well as to others. If children cry 
habitually when their ears are washed, that should not 
be neglected; there is, most likely, some cause of pain. 
Many membranes are destroyed from discharges which 
take place during fc teething.” Whenever there is a 
discharge of matter from the ear, it would be right to 
pour in warm water night and morning, and so at least 
to try and to keep it clean. But into the treatment of 
diseases of the ear it would not be suitable to enter 
here. 111. 
TEE EYE AND SIGHT. 
Sight is perhaps, taken singly, the most valuable of our 
natural faculties. To the lower animals and to uncivil- 
ized man it is of an importance which it is not easy to 
exaggerate; but it has become to ourselves, through the 
introduction of writing and of the printing press, of— 
shall I say?—tenfold worth. The high value set upon 
the eye is indicated by many figurative expressions in 
daily use; and every one must have noticed the instinctive 
pride we all feel in the possession of good sight. People 
"will boast of their sight who are beyond boasting of 
anything else; and those who unfortunately are obliged 
to admit that now the faculty is failing, will still find 
comfort in assuring you that in early life they were 
“ remarkable for strong sight.” Those whose sight has 
failed, almost always date the commencement of their 
defect quite recently, often long since the time at which 
it must have begun. Whilst this instinctive sense of 
its value renders some people painfully apprehensive as 
to very slight symptoms, it renders others—and the 
majority—absolutely unable to admit, even to them- 
-4 PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
62 
selves, that there is anything the matter. Surgeons 
who practise in diseases of the eye often meet with 
curious illustrations of this, and often have difficulty in 
convincing those who have in reality lost half of what 
they ought to possess, that they are not rich. 
Observing the immensely increased value of sight to 
civilized men, it is a matter of congratulation that 
blindness is far less frequent among them than among 
savages. With a little allowance for the effects of climate 
and of occupations, it may be asserted that the higher 
the civilization, the smaller the proportion of those who 
are blind, or who suffer from irremediable defects of 
sight. In England, perhaps, it is smaller than in any 
other part of the world. In Egypt, India, China, and 
Japan, the number is very large indeed; and one of the 
most valuable qualifications of the medical missionary 
is a knowledge of this part of surgery. The way in 
which civilization brings about this splendid result— 
one for which we can never be too thankful—is partly 
by improving the general sanitary state, diet, clothing, 
etc., but chiefly by the increased care of the organs and 
the scientific treatment of their diseases. 
Even in England there is still much that might be 
done towards the preservation of this valuable faculty, 
were the true nature of its disorders better understood; 
and it is not only amongst medical men that a wider THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
63 
diffusion o£ knowledge in tliis matter is to be desired, 
but also amongst tbe public at large. 
In tbe following article tbe endeavour will be made, 
not only to exbibit tbe eye and its endowments as an 
interesting lesson in physiology, but also to supply 
information as to some of tbe common causes of its 
failure, and tbe best means for tbeir prevention or 
remedy. 
We will speak first of tbe parts wbicb are seen on 
looking at tbe front of tbe eye. In order to better 
understand and remember wbat is described, tbe reader 
will do well to borrow a friend’s face for a few minutes’ 
close examination. 
First we bave The Eyelids. These are two movable 
folds of skin intended to protect tbe eye. In order to 
stiffen them and make them fit well, there is placed in 
each a narrow strip of gristle (or cartilage). You will 
observe that tbe upper lid covers tbe eye rather more 
than tbe lower; that tbe edge of tbe lower lid is nearly 
straight—that of tbe upper arched; and, lastly, that 
tbe upper lid moves more freely than tbe lower one. 
Tbe upper lid can be lifted at will considerably; but 
tbe lower one can be but very little drawn down. 
Both can be moved freely in tbe act of closing tbe eye. 
Tbe upper lid has a special muscle by wbicb it is lifted. 
Tbe muscle by wbicb we close tbe lids is common to 64 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
both. Under each lid there is a sort of pouch, or 
hollow, which may be easily seen in the case of the 
lower lid by drawing it down. Into these pouches 
little particles of dirt, insects’ wings, bits of chaff, straw, 
etc., sometimes get, and there lie hid, causing much 
irritation to the eye. From such positions they are 
Fm. 1 
THE EYELIDS WITH LASHES, ETC. 
often difficult to dislodge. They lie out of sight, and 
it is necessary to turn the lid over to expose and re- 
move them. This should be done by a surgeon. If 
surgical aid be not at hand, it is sometimes possible, 
by taking a hair and doubling it, and then pushing the 
noose up under the lid, to draw them out.* 
* These remarks apply only when the intruding body is under the lid, 
not when it is simply on the front of the eye. From the latter situation THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
65 
At their outer comer the two lids meet and join at 
a sharp angle, but at the inner corner they do not 
quite meet, but leave a little round space between them. 
In this inner corner you will observe a red, fleshy- 
looking mass, about the size of a pea; this is a gland, 
which is of much larger size in some of the lower animals 
than it is in man. It is in the little pond, or hollow, 
which exists at the inner comer of the lids, that the 
tears collect before they escape away into the nose. 
When a person cries, the tears are so freely poured 
forth, that they cannot all escape by the channels to 
which I refer, and, in consequence, run over the cheeks. 
In a certain sense we may be said, however, to be 
always crying quietly. Tears are constantly being 
formed, and having passed over the surface of the eye, 
escape without observation into little channels which 
lead into the nose. A sharp-sighted person may easily 
find the opening (close to the inner corner of the lower 
eyelid) into which the tears enter. The lid must be 
held down, and it will then be seen as a round dot, 
about large enough to admit a pin. There is another 
the best way to remove it is to oil the end of a finger, and then carefully 
touch the eye; this is easily borne, if gently done. The finger end may 
be covered with a soft handkerchief; its front surface, not its tip should 
be used. Olive oil or castor oil will do; the latter is the better for the 
purpose. 66 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
in the upper lid, but it is not so easy to find. If a 
pin were pressed into this little hole, it might, if dex- 
terously managed, be made to find its way inwards 
Fig. 2. 
THE EYELIDS WITHOUT LASHES, ETC. 
{From Quain’s Plates.) 
a, a. The openings of the tubes for the escape of tears. 6. The little 
pond at the angle of the lids in which is placed the body known as the 
“ caruncle.” 
and downwards into the nose, for there is an open tube 
or channel the whole way. Many troublesome diseases 
result from the stopping up or narrowing of these 
delicate canals, the chief symptom of which is the over- 
flow of tears on any slight irritation—such, for instance, 
as exposure to wind. THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
67 
As regards the formation of tears, it is necessary to 
remark that, although formed in part by a sort of 
oozing from the whole surface of the eye, they are 
chiefly poured out by a large gland provided for that 
special purpose, and placed deeply above and to the 
outer side of the eyeball. From its position, the water 
it forms must pass over the surface of the eye before 
it can escape at the inner corner. By this arrangement 
the eye is better washed, and any particles of dust, etc., 
arc carried away. , 
At the margins of the lids we have the lashes ; 
certain rows of stout hairs which grow in beautiful 
curves, and which serve both to adorn the features 
and to protect the eye. Close to the roots of the 
lashes there are, as is the case with all hairs, certain 
little glands, which form a sort of oil, and allow it to 
escape upon the hair, so as to keep it from drying and 
cracking. Near to the roots of the lashes, but not 
actually opening upon them, are also other and larger 
glands, which form a kind of wax; this being poured 
out at the edge of the lid keeps it always coated, and 
thus prevents the tears from running over it. You 
may see these glands by drawing the lower lid down. 
They look like little yellow streaks about a quarter of 
an inch long, and appear to be somewhat knotted. 
In the woodcut we have shown, first, an inner row of 68 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
small holes, the openings of the glands, and, secondly, 
a number of yet smaller holes outside these, and ar- 
ranged rather irregularly in two or three rows; these 
are the openings from which the hairs have been pulled 
out. At the inner corner of both upper and lower lid, 
a large black dot marks the opening of the canal for 
the escape of the tears towards the nose. All these 
glands are liable in certain states of the health, and 
especially after measles in delicate children, to inflame, 
and a sore-looking red edge to the lid is then produced. 
To cure this, in bad cases, surgeons often pull out all 
the lashes, and sometimes repeat the process several 
times. The lashes always grow again, and usually 
better than before. About six weeks is long enough 
for them to be reproduced in full perfection. 
Now look at THE FRONT OF THE EYE ITSELF. You 
will notice a round part like a watch-glass, about the 
size of a sixpence, and set in a white structure which 
surrounds it. This white structure extends backwards 
out of sight completely round the eyeball, and is its 
chief coat or wall. It is called the sclerotic, from a 
Greek word, signifying that it is dense and strong. 
The clear part, which I have compared to a watch-glass, 
is called the “ cornea/* Through this clear cornea you 
look into the eye, and we now have to observe two 
parts, the black part in the middle, called the “ pupil,** THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
69 
and the coloured part which surrounds it, called the 
“iris.” The cornea is convex, like a watch-glass; the 
iris is flat, like the watch-face. Between the cornea 
and the iris a few drops of clear water are placed. 
Now let us try the effect of light upon the iris and 
pupil. Close one eye altogether; shade the other with 
the hand for half a minute; and then suddenly expose 
it to a bright light. You will find that the pupil 
enlarges very much when shaded, and closes when 
exposed to light. This is effected by the iris, which 
is a sort of screen, attached only at its rim, and with 
a hole (the pupil) punched through its middle. In 
noticing its contraction on exposure to light, you have 
learnt the chief use of the iris; it is a shade intended 
to shut off glare, and to regulate the quantity of light 
admitted. Look at the pupil of a young child, and 
compare it with that of an adult, and then with that 
of an old person. You will find the child’s large, that 
of the adult smaller, and that of the old man very 
small, perhaps little larger than a pin’s head. The 
size and brilliant blackness of the pupil have much 
more to do with the expression of the eye than has 
the colour of the iris. Hence ‘ the comparative want 
of expression and of lustre in the eyes of old persons 
and much of the sparkling beauty of the eyes of the 
young. An unusually large pupil generally implies 70 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
delicacy of constitution. The fact that it gives ex- 
pression to the eye has, however, been so fully recog- 
nised, that, in Italy, ladies are reported to employ a 
drug for the purpose of obtaining it. This drug has 
from that circumstance received the name of “bella- 
donna,” or “ the beautiful lady.” It is needless to say, 
however, that its use confuses the sight, and that such 
fancied beauty is very unwisely purchased. 
Now let us look closely at the iris, and admire the 
beauty of its structure. That the colour of the iris 
may vary in different persons, every one knows; for 
it is this structure which gives what is called the 
colour of the eye. You will see, on minute inspection, 
that its colour varies at different parts in the same 
person, and also that it presents various lines and 
markings of great complexity and beauty. The iris, 
although a great aid to distinct vision, is not essential; 
and now and then persons are born without it, who 
still enjoy tolerable sight. The iris is about as thick 
as stout blotting-paper; and, whatever may be its colour 
in front, it is always of a deep brown, almost black, 
behind. 
I have already said that the pupil (the black round 
part in the middle) is merely a hole through the iris. 
It looks black, just as a hole into a dark room would 
do; but the structures behind it are quite clear and THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
colourless. It is through, this hole, the pupil of the 
eye, that the rays of light enter. 
With this brief description of the pupil and iris, 
ends what I have to say as to the structures which 
can be seen on looking into another person's eye. 
Before proceeding to explain the yet more important 
ones which lie out of view, I must ask attention to a 
few other points. 
The eye, as every one knows, is "a very sensitive 
organ.” Why is this ? Because it is richly supplied 
with nerves. Every movement of the eyelids, every 
alteration in the size of the pupil, is accomplished 
through the means of these nerves, which, like so 
many microscopic telegraph-wires, connect the various 
parts, and send messages between them with vast 
rapidity. Is there too much light, the iris is ordered 
to contract; is the glare extreme, the lids also are 
made to close. The influence of the nerves does not, 
however, end here. Through their power the flow of 
tears may be increased or lessened. If a particle of 
dust is lodged in the eye, pain is the result; and this 
pain, quite apart from any effort of the will, makes the 
eye water, causes an overflow of tears, by which probably 
the offending body is washed off. Most persons are 
aware that one of the best ways of dealing with a 
gnat in the eye is to close the lids for a minute or PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
72 
two. A large accumulation of tears is tlie result, and 
on suddenly opening the lids the offending midge is 
carried away in the deluge. 
In Fig. 3 we see exposed some of the nerye-trunks 
Fig. 3. 
AN EYEBALL PARTIALLY DISSECTED. 
(From Holden's “ Anatomy.") 
The thick white outer coat, sclerotic (a), has been cut away in most 
parts. In front the iris and pupil are seen {b, the iris). External to 
the iris is a ring of whitish structure, the ciliary muscle (c). At the back 
of the eyeball the great nerve of sight, the optic nerve, is seen entering 
the globe, and around it are twigs (d) of small nerves, which run forwards 
to supply the iris, ciliary muscle, etc. These nerves (e and c) are seen 
again after they have pierced the sclerotic. Under the nerve-trunks 
are seen the beautifully branching vessels which compose one of the 
inner coats of the eye (the choroid). 
which supply the eye. Each one of these, although 
not thicker than a hair, would he found, on inspection THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
73 
with a microscope, to consist of a bundle of very 
minute tubes, each isolated from its companion by a 
sheath, much as telegraph wires are cased in gutta- 
percha and then put together in one rope. These 
nerve-tubes have different duties to perform—some 
carry to the brain the sense of pain or other feelings 
(nerves of sensation), others carry from the brain orders 
to act, either to muscles or to glands. It is by these 
latter or motor nerves that the pupil is altered in 
size, and that we are able to fit the eye at one moment 
for looking at a distant prospect, at another for reading 
the smallest print. It is by the nerves which act on 
the glands that we regulate the flow of tears in crying, 
and by the irritation of which the eye “ waters ” when 
anything has got into it. If a certain branch of nerve 
were paralysed, the power of shedding tears on that 
side would cease, and the patient would be placed 
in the ludicrous position of being able to cry only 
with one eye. Such cases occur now and then. 
I have omitted to say anything as to what may 
be called the skin of the eye. The lids are lined, 
and the front of the eyeball covered, by a very delicate, 
almost transparent membrane, which differs chiefly from 
skin in that it is constantly kept moist. It is con- 
tinuous with the skin of the eyelids at their edges. 
On the front of the cornea it is quite transparent and 74 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
invisible; but it is still there, as is proved in the case 
of serpents, which shed their skins once a year, and 
with it a perfect and unbroken membrane from the 
front of the eye. It is this membrane which chiefly 
carries the blood-vessels, and which becomes red in cases 
of inflammation. It is also well supplied with nerves. 
This membrane is technically called the conjunctiva, 
because it connects and covers in all the other struc- 
tures. 
Every one must have noticed how readily, even in 
persons in good health, the eyes sympathize with any 
slight disturbance. A bad night, or any temporary 
nervous exhaustion, will make the eyes feel heavy and 
“ gritty,” and will cause the lids to look swollen and 
red at the edges. The “lack-lustre eye” is proverbial; 
and to the general expression of “ seediness ” which 
follows a night of dissipation, the eye contributes 
perhaps more than any other part of the physiognomy. 
All these little changes are brought about by the 
influence of the nerves on the blood-vessels and other 
structures of the parts. 
In almost every village there is some Lady Bountiful 
to whom the poor resort for “ eye-water,” when they 
need it. It is related of a French quack doctor, that 
having realised a large fortune by the sale of a secret 
remedy for ophthalmia, he was on his death-bed the THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
75 
subject of mucb compunction on the score that Ins 
specific had been, as he then explained, only river- 
water coloured. His surgeon told him to quiet his 
qualms, and assured him that it would be well for 
the public if all nostrums for this purpose were equally 
harmless. I think the surgeon was too severe. The 
household remedies in vogue usually consist of some 
weak mineral solution—alum, sulphate of zinc, and the 
like; and these remedies are very suitable to a large 
proportion of slight inflammations of the eye. Their 
chief evil is, not that they do actual harm, but that 
they often prevent those who ought to obtain proper 
and well-skilled advice from doing so sufficiently- early. 
For slight colds in the eye, weak astringents such as 
those mentioned, or such as cold tea (a very popular 
remedy), are quite suitable; but let me enforce the 
rule, that on no account should they be trusted to 
when there is much pain or redness in the eye, nor 
in the inflammations which occur in infants. 
Here I may suitably explain the real meaning of 
some expressions in popular use as regards diseases 
of the eye. 
A “ blood-shot eye ” is an eye in which the minute 
blood-vessels are much enlarged, and thus parts which 
should have been white become more or less red 
This condition generally implies inflammation. 76 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
A “watery eye,” or—wliat is sometimes synonymous 
—a weak eye, means the condition produced when, 
owing to the stoppage of the minute channels for the 
tears, the latter find their way over the cheek. The 
term “weak eye” is often applied to states of long 
persisting inflammation of the roots of the eyelashes. 
“White specks on the eyes” are produced whenever 
ulcers on the cornea, which ought to he perfectly clear, 
have healed and left scars. Such white specks are 
the natural result of the healing process, and are 
quite inevitable after many inflammations. As the 
ulcer heals, it becomes whiter and whiter; and then, 
after a long time, the film slowly clears away, and, 
in the course of years, may almost disappear. No 
surgical art can take these specks away, though certain 
operations may sometimes be performed for obviating 
their effect on sight. 
A “cast” or “squint” is said to exist whenever 
the direction of one eye does not correspond with that 
of the other. In a state of health, the two eyes move 
together with admirable and instantaneous precision. 
If they did not do so, we should see two objects in- 
stead of one. A squint may occur either inwards or 
outwards. When inwards, which is by far the more 
common, the person becomes “ cross-eyed,” and obtains 
a peculiar sly expression, as if he were anxious to look THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
77 
in two places at once. When the squint is outwards, 
the defect in expression is greater, for it makes the 
countenance look somewhat silly and vacant. The move- 
ments of the eyeballs are accomplished by little slender 
muscles which adhere to its sides, and pull it, now 
in one direction, now in another. These muscles are 
Fig. 4. 
THE FOUR STRAIGHT MUSCLES OF THE EYE, 
(From Holden's “Anatomy,") 
The muscles are here shown lifted up from the ball, to exhibit their 
attachment on its front surface, not far behind the edge of the cornea 
and iris. 
chiefly four (see Fig. 4), one above, one below, and 
one on each side. The reader must not suppose that 
they stand off from the eye, as shown in the woodcut; 
on the contrary, they fit closely to its sides, like narrow 
strips of india-rubber on the sides of a marble. If any 
one of these muscles becomes either stronger or weaker PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
than its antagonist on the other side, a squint is pro- 
duced. .Surgeons cure squints by simply cutting the 
stronger muscle through, and thus weakening its hold 
on the eye. The operation is, to a dexterous hand, 
quite a simple one, and of course does not involve, 
as some fancy, “taking the eye out and turning it/’ 
Most persons who squint require spectacles, and many 
squints might be prevented by their timely use. 
As I have said that unless the two eyes move accu- 
rately together, we see objects double, it will perhaps 
occur as a difficulty to some who may have experience 
of squinting, that these persons are not usually troubled 
with double vision. The explanation is this: When 
a squint first occurs, all objects are seen double. This 
is extremely perplexing and tiresome, and, to get rid 
of it, one eye learns not to see, or, to speak in pro- 
fessional language, one image is suppressed. Thus 
squinters use only one eye at a time. A very curious 
and instructive result follows on this disuse. The eye 
which is intentionally made to remain idle becomes 
almost blind. Now, if an eye had been disused in 
consequence of a large speck in front of it, or a cataract, 
it might have remained so for twenty years, and not 
have become blind; so great is the difference in result 
from enforced and from voluntary disuse ! A sermon 
might be preached on this text. What a warning THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
79 
for tlie idle, and also for tlie ascetic ! that we cannot 
voluntarily decline to use any of the faculties with 
which we are endowed, without risk of entire loss of 
that which we thus neglect! 
We will proceed to try a few easy experiments. 
Ist Exp.—Look through the window, standing within 
a foot of the pane, and fix your sight on the particles 
of dust on the latter. By an effort, you can see them 
definitely and sharply. Now look out into the street or 
garden, hut exactly in the same direction. You will find 
that when doing so you lose sight of the specks on the 
pane, and that to see them again you have to alter your 
eye, so that you do not see the distant objects. It is 
clear that your eye when looking at a near object and 
at a distant one is in different conditions. Now take an 
opera-glass or a child’s telescope, and having adjusted 
it accurately for some object at a great distance, try to 
use it for a near one. You will find that the same 
adjustment will not do, and that you must alter the 
screw. Surely there is something in your eye which 
has the same effect as the screw of the opera-glass, and 
by altering its adjustment gives you the power of see- 
ing accurately at one time the most distant objects, at 
others the nearest. We have said the nearest; but no 
there is a limit here. It does not matter how far 
objects are off, provided they are large enough; the PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
stars, the moon, etc., you can see them clearly, but not 
so with near objects. Try this page. Nearer than eight 
inches (if you have properly formed eyes) you cannot 
without a sense of straining effort read the type, and 
nearer than five all is blurred and indistinct. The 
same occurs with the opera-glass. You cannot by its 
screw adapt it for very near objects. With it, as with 
your eye, there is a limit to " adjustment ” or “ accom- 
modation.” We have found, then, that it is in looking 
at near objects that an effort has to be made, and hence 
the reason why small objects near to one are so trying to 
the eyes, whilst a distant prospect rests and strengthens 
them. Before we examine how accommodation is 
effected we must try another experiment. 
2nd Exp.—Take any strong magnifying glass, and 
hold it at a little distance from a wall in front of a well- 
lighted window. You will find that it depicts upon the 
wall a much reduced picture of the window, and that 
this picture becomes bright or blurred according to your 
care in holding the glass at the correct distance. You 
cannot move it ever so little, either forwards or back- 
wards, without disturbing the brightness of the image. 
Notice that the image is wrong side up, or inverted. 
Now the eye consists essentially of a magnifying glass 
thus used, and it paints pictures within itself exactly in 
the same manner. Certain parts are of course added to THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
81 
it, which much facilitate the performance, but the lens 
power is the essential. The lens is inclosed in a dark 
Fig. 6. 
i. SECTION OJ? THE EYEBALL FROM ABOVE DOWNWARDS. 
a. The anterior chamber bounded in front by the cornea, h. The 
posterior chamber, c. The canal of Petit at the edge of the lens. d. The 
iris. e. The ciliary processes. /. The ciliary canal, g. The ciliary 
muscle (muscle of accommodation), ft. The sclerotic, i.j. The two 
layers of the choroid, k. The retina. I. The optic nerve. N.B.—The 
lines in the vitreous humour represent its framework, but it must not be 
supposed that it is crossed by dark lines, as here shown; on the contrary, 
this framework, like the substance it incloses, is perfectly transparent. 
chamber, so that the brilliancy of the picture may not 
be damped by rays of light coming sideways; the iris is 
provided in front to regulate the quantity of light ad- 
mitted j and lastly, wo have a nerve-surface to receive 82 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
tlie picture, and nerve-trunks to convey tlie impression 
to tlie brain. The lens power of the eye is produced in 
part by the cornea and its contents, in part by the 
“lens” itself, and in part by the vitreous humour be- 
hind it. Their combined power is about equal to a 
magnifying glass of one inch focus. You will see in 
Fig. 5 how they are arranged. 
Now let us try to explain how “ accommodation ” is 
effected. In the case of the opera-glass it is done by the 
screw, which increases or lessens the distance of the 
Fig. 6. 
glasses from each other. In the eye we have no screw, 
nor is it possible to materially alter the distance of the 
parts from each other. The result is gained by making 
the lens itself more powerful at one time than at another. 
This lens is placed just behind the pupil, and is about 
the size and shape of a small “ acid-drop.” It is of firm 
structure, but not hard, and is capable of being squeezed 
so as to become more convex. Fig. 6 shows its shape 
and size after removal from the eye. In Fig. sit is seen 
in place in the eye. Accommodation is, then, effected THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
by making this structure more or less convex, and tliis 
is done by a muscle which exists within the eye and 
surrounds the margin of the lens (see Figs. 3 and 5). 
Why accommodation should be necessary, we will next 
try to explain. 
Every object that you can see becomes visible by the 
rays of light which it either gives off or reflects. Lu- 
minous objects, the sun, a candle, etc., originate their 
own rays; all others reflect those which they have re- 
ceived. If an object reflected no light, it would be 
black, and invisible. The type which you are now read- 
ing is in a strict sense invisible; it is the white spaces 
between the letters which reflect the light, and which are 
really seen. Now, rays of light always proceed in 
straight lines; they are capable, as we have seen, of 
being reflected or thrown back by any surface on which 
they strike; they are capable, also, let us now assert, of 
being refracted or bent out of their usual course by any 
transparent substance through which they pass. Trans- 
parent substances refract light in differing degrees 
according to their degree of density, and according to 
their external form. Our next assertion shall be, 
that all rays of light radiate, or, in other words, 
proceed from a point forwards in all possible directions. 
Make a dot near the edge of a sheet of paper, and then 
with a ruler draw as many straight lines from it as you 84 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
possibly can, none of them quite touching anywhere but 
at the point of starting. This will give a gopd idea of 
how rays of light diverge, and how a pencil of 
formed. You will easily see that in no position 
pupil of the eye possibly receive all the rays of 
that the farther off it was carried, the. fewer it would get. 
You may notice, also, in the diagram which you have 
Fig. 7. 
DIAGEAM OF AN EYEBALL OF EXACTLY NATURAL LENGTH. 
[From Bonders.) 
Parallel rays are brought to a focus (<p") by the lens, etc., at the bottom 
of the eye, precisely on the retina. 
constructed, that the lines nearest the middle are those 
most nearly parallel to each other. The rest diverge 
more strongly. 
Now, imagine that these lines were prolonged not only 
across your sheet of paper, but across a wide room, or 
across a field. Under such circumstances, only those 
rays which were in the middle, and nearly parallel with 
each other, could possibly enter an observer's eye; all 
the rest would have diverged and passed away to the sides. 
Two things have, it is hoped, been made clear by THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
85 
these statements. First, we have shown why it is so 
difficult to see distant objects, unless they are of large 
Parallel rays, instead of coming to a focus on the retina, do not meet 
till a little distance behind it (<£"). Divergent rays fare yet worse, and 
do not meet until far below beyond the bottom of the eyeball. The only 
rays which would meet on the retina would be convergent ones, such as 
those indicated by dotted lines, which converge and tend to meet at j 
(hence the need of glasses to make the rays converge). 
DIAGRAM OF AN EYEBALL MUCH TOO SHORT (WEAK-SIGHTED). 
(From Bonders.) 
Fig. 8. 
size, or very well lighted; and, second, that we see dis- 
tant objects by means of rays of light which are parallel, 
and near ones by the aid of rays which are divergent. 86 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Now, since both the divergent and the parallel rajs 
must be focussed at the same place (the bottom of the 
eye), it is clear that the apparatus must, in order to 
effect this, be accommodated. In order to deal with 
divergent rajs (those from near objects), the lens must 
be made stronger, or} in other words, more convex. We 
have alreadj stated that this is effected bj a muscle 
which exists within the eje. When this muscle is at 
rest, the eje is adapted to receive and focus parallel 
rajs from distant objects; when in action, it can focus 
divergent ones. Hence the feeling of effort and fatigue 
which often results from long looking at small objects. 
It maj possiblj have occurred to some unusually at- 
tentive and intelligent reader, that we are involved in 
a little difficulty, in asserting that effort is needed for 
near objects. Ho not, it maj be asked, the parallel rajs 
from a near object gain access to the pupil as well as the 
divergent ones; and if so, whj cannot we use them 
without effort, just as we use them when at a distance, 
and when we receive them onlj ? The explanation is, 
that the divergent rajs which are received with them 
confuse the image. If thej could be excluded, then the 
eje could use the parallel rajs as well close as miles 
awaj. To be certain of this, trj another simple experi- 
ment. With a fine needle prick the smallest possible 
hole in a card, and then trj to read, looking through THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
87 
this hole, and putting the card and the page close to the 
eye. You will find that you can see letters through such 
a hole which are all blurred and indistinct without it; 
you can, in fact, read at an inch distance from your eye, 
whereas without it you cannot read at a shorter distance 
than eight inches. 
The eye may be imperfect as an organ of vision with- 
out there being any actual disease, and merely on account 
of some peculiarity in its form, or peculiarity in its 
apparatus for accommodation. A great many persons 
are born with their eyeballs a little too long or too short, 
and hence great inconvenience in using them. It is only 
when the eyeball is exactly the proper length, that its 
use as an optical instrument—its adjustment, etc.—can 
be perfect. When it is of proper length, then the sharp- 
ness of sight will be found to be almost exactly the same 
m all persons. There are limits as to the size of objects 
which can be seen both in the distance and near, 
and these limits are about the same for all persons 
whilst the eye is in a state of health. We will now ex- 
plain some of the common defects. 
Over-worked Eyes. Weak Sight.—We have proved 
that muscular effort is necessary to see near objects • 
the smaller and nearer, the greater the effort. Now the 
muscle of accommodation, although accustomed to long 
work, may yet under unusual stress tire and fail. When 88 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
it does so, the eye becomes unable to see near at band, 
and is compelled to rest. It is just as if you bad been 
long standing on tip-toe to look over a wall; there 
comes a time when you can do it no longer. This 
over-fatigue is very common in some occupations: 
needle-women, engravers, printers, press-correctors, and 
the like, very frequently suffer from it. Indeed, the 
last-mentioned occupation, when pursued as it is by 
some, for twelve or sixteen hours a day regularly, almost 
always wears the eyes out sooner or later. In many 
cases the eyes will, however, bear without detriment 
an extraordinary amount of work. 
We have compared the effort of looking long at small 
print, etc., to the effort of standing tip-toe; and, to 
follow the comparison, it is clear that the shorter the 
individual, the more fatiguing would be the effort of 
looking over a wall. Just so in the case of the eye ; 
the shorter the eyeball, the greater the muscular effort 
necessary. Now, a very large number of persons have 
the eye from birth a little below its proper length. 
Such persons are obliged to employ the muscle of ac- 
commodation much more than others, and are very 
liable to suffer from its over-fatigue. They complain 
that they can see well for a little while, but cannot go 
on long. This symptom indicates the need for spec- 
tacles. It is only quite lately that it has been found THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
89 
out that this kind of weak sight results simply from 
the shortness of the eyeball. We owe the discovery 
to Professor Bonders, of Utrecht, and, thanks to him, 
thousands now enjoy by the use of spectacles perfect 
sight, who formerly would have had to go through life 
with a constant and great deficiency. The prejudice 
against spectacles for young persons used to be very 
strong, but it is now happily disappearing. Now and 
then, even young children discover that they can see 
much better in their grandmothers* glasses; and when 
such is the case, spectacles ought always to be supplied. 
If they are not, the symptoms of weak sight and of over- 
worked eyes are almost certain to be developed. For 
this condition, convex-glasses, "old sight,** are needed. 
It is the opposite to short sight, and depends on the op- 
posite condition of the eyeball. 
Short Sight occurs when the eyeball is too long— 
egg-shaped instead of round. It is very common, and 
runs in families. The eyeball is usually too long from 
the time of birth, but it often increases in length sub- 
sequently. A person who is the subject of short sight, 
enjoys excellent vision for near objects; he has, in fact, 
a microscopic eye, and can " inspect a mite ** in much 
more detail than another. He pays for this gain in one 
direction by a loss in another. He cannot see objects 
in the distance—cannot "comprehend the heavens.** PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
90 
Often, however, he will go through a large part of life 
rejoicing in his advantage, and quite unaware of his 
.9 S' 
C 3 
o 
a cq 
(D C 3 
DIAGRAM OF AN EYEBALL MUCH TOO LONG (SHORT-SIGHTED). 
(From Bonders.) 
Parallel rays (from a distance) meet in the eyeball (<p") before n 
the retina, -whilst strongly divergent ones (from a near object, i 
meet in focus on the retina (J.) 
Fig. 9. 
loss. Having no standard of comparison, lie believes THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
that the manner in which he sees into the distance is 
the best attainable. An adult myope* who has never 
tried glasses is amazed, on using them for the first 
time, at the clearness with which he sees that which 
always before had been hazy and indefinite. 
The reason that a long eyeball disables for distant 
vision is, that the lens of the eye being too forward, 
its focus is in front of the bottom of the eye, instead 
of exactly upon it. Thus, the eye can use divergent 
rays more easily than one of proper length, bat cannot 
focus parallel ones at the proper place. This may be 
corrected by the use of a concave glass, which will 
make parallel rays diverge. Thus, myopes use spec- 
tacles of an opposite kind to those required by old 
persons, or by the weak sight which results from a 
too short globe. 
Short-sighted persons acquire certain peculiarities 
of appearance. In the first place, their eyes often 
look full and prominent, and frequently have large 
pupils; next, from constantly trying to see better in 
the distance, they are apt to acquire a habit of 
“screwing” the eyelids; and, lastly, from the ne- 
cessity of bringing the head near to the object 
* The learned term for short sight is myopia. Myopic means short- 
sighted ; and a myope, a short-sighted person. 92 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
observed, a certain degree of stoop is apt to be 
developed. These bad habits may, in many cases, 
be prevented by the use of proper spectacles. It is 
said that myopia even induces peculiarities of charac- 
ter, and that myopes are usually unsuspicious and 
easily pleased; being unable to observe many little 
matters in the demeanour or expression of those 
with whom they converse, which, being noticed by 
those of quicker sight, might induce feelings of dis- 
trust or annoyance. 
There is an opinion widely prevalent, that short- 
sighted eyes are strong eyes, and wear well. Un- 
fortunately, this is a mistake; for, in not a few cases, 
this condition is progressive, and ends in very serious 
failure of sight. It is quite true that, as a set-off for 
the fact that throughout life he has never been able 
to see clearly in the distance, the myope may in old 
age still retain his power of reading without glasses. 
In this sense, his eyes may last longer than those of 
his friends, but in no other. 
Those who are short-sighted ought to observe a 
few simple rules in order to preserve their eyes. 
They should be careful to prefer large type for read- 
ing, and to hold the book up to the eyes, not bring 
the eyes down to the book. In writing, they should 
use a high desk, and on no account bend over a flat THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
93 
table. They should avoid, as far as may be, all close 
Work, and relieve the eyes by frequent rests. Those 
who are short-sighted in but slight degrees may use 
spectacles or not, according to inclination; those 
who are so in a considerable degree will find safety 
as well as present advantage in their use; whilst 
those who have the defect in very high degrees must 
be cautious, and use glasses only under skilled advice. 
In all forms, if too strong glasses are used, they will 
increase the defect and irreparably damage the eyes. 
We have no wish to make a large class of myopes 
unduly anxious about the durability of their eyes. It 
is only in cases in which the sight gets shorter and 
shorter from year to year that alarm need be felt; 
then the necessity for rest is urgent. 
Unfortunately, short sight occurs very frequently in 
those who are of a studious turn, and who are con- 
sequently very likely to increase it by their habits. 
It is an exception to what we said in the beginning 
as to the influence of civilization upon the prevalence 
of eye diseases. It is a defect to a large extent due 
to the pursuits introduced by the inventions of civil- 
ized life. It is rare amongst those who cannot read, 
and amongst those who follow out-of-door pursuits; 
and is believed to be more common amongst the 
studious Germans than amongst any other nation. 94 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Although undoubtedly induced by occupation, it may be 
transmitted hereditarily. 
Old Sight (presbyopia).—lt is often thought that 
old sight is “long sight,” and that it is in some 
sense opposite to short sight; but this is a mistake. 
Old people have no advantage over the young as re- 
gards sight in the distance; they have simply lost the 
power of seeing near objects well. It would be strange 
indeed if advancing age, which slowly but surely robs 
us of our various faculties, added anything to that of 
sight. It certainly does not. The impairment which 
ensues from age is the gradual loss of the power of 
accommodation. We have compared that power to 
the screw in an opera-glass, or to the movement of 
the tubes of a telescope one within the other. We 
might extend the comparison, and suppose that by 
constant use the screw has got worn, and will no 
longer act. Yery gradual indeed is the commence- 
ment of old sight. About the age of thirty-five, with- 
out our noticing it, we begin to be less able to see 
small things near to us, and by the age of forty-five 
we have learned instinctively to keep the book an 
inch or two farther off than we did in youth. From 
this period onward to old age, the faculty fails steadily 
until we become quite unable to bring a book near 
enough to read from it. This loss occurs to all persons THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
95 
whose eyes were originally of proper length, and it 
is far more exactly proportionate to our years than is 
generally supposed. 
Even when no longer able to read at all without 
glasses, the power of distant vision may be perfect. 
Eor this, no accommodation is wanted, and it is that 
power which alone has failed. The eye is itself per- 
fectly healthy, but the lens substance has got harder 
and harder, and can no longer be altered in form, and 
thus made stronger when requisite. In some cases, 
however, the lens not only gets harder, but also 
somewhat flatter, and then its possessor will require 
spectacles both for distant and near objects, though 
he will be able to see distant objects with much 
weaker glasses than those which he uses for reading. 
Old sight can always be remedied by spectacles, 
and it is most desirable that they should be used; they 
save the eye from fatigue, as well as improve its use- 
fulness. The risk of using them too strong is not 
great, and the subject may be allowed to select for 
himself those that suit him best for reading. They 
ought to enable him to read easily at twelve inches* 
distance. It is a natural result from the slowly pro- 
gressive character of the failure, that stronger and 
stronger glasses will be necessary as age advances. 
If the progress is rapid, and especially if glasses do 96 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
not relieve it so much after a while as they did at 
first, then advice is needed. 
You sometimes notice at church an old man with 
his spectacles on the tip of his nose, and his prayer- 
book held as far off as possible. These are sure 
signs that ho wants stronger glasses. The effect of 
putting the spectacles farther from the eyes is to in- 
crease their power. The glasses used ought, how- 
ever, to be strong enough to allow of their being 
kept close to the eyes, and it ought not to be neces- 
sary to hold the book more than a foot away. 
Cataeact.—We now have to explain another very 
important and curious defect, which occurs chiefly in 
the aged. We have said, that as years advance, the 
lens gets harder; sometimes not only does it harden, 
but it changes from a state of transparency, like 
glass, to one of yellow haze, like amber or bees-wax, 
or even to a dense white, like spermaceti. When the 
lens has thus become opaque, a cataract is said to 
have formed. If you look at Fig. 5, you will easily 
see, from the position of the lens, exactly behind the 
pupil and in the centre of the eye, that it must, when 
opaque, prevent light, from entering. Cataracts usually 
form slowly and without pain, and often take several 
years before they quite exclude the light. They are very 
common in the aged, as a mere result of age, and THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
97 
without any disease, and now and then they occur 
also in infants and in young persons. 
The art of removing cataracts is one of the greatest 
triumphs of surgery, and is now the means of restor- 
ing sight to thousands who would otherwise he com- 
pelled to end their lives in darkness. In certain cases, 
in which the cataracts are said to he soft, the sur- 
geon is content to stir them up with a needle, and 
leave them to dissolve; but in others, and the ma- 
jority, he makes an incision in the eye, and takes 
the lens bodily out. After successful operations for 
cataract, the use of spectacles is always necessary, 
for one of the most important parts of the refracting 
apparatus has h§en removed, and must be replaced 
by a lens in front of the eye. 
Formerly, surgeons used to “couch” for cataract; 
that is, instead of extracting the lens from the eye, 
they would, with a needle, displace it from the axis 
of vision, and leave it in the deeper parts of the eye. 
By looking again at Fig. 5, you will understand how 
this was practicable. It is a clumsy and imperfect 
procedure, and is now never thought of by scientific 
surgeons. I mention it chiefly in order to remark 
that now and then a cataract is displaced or couched 
by accident—a blow or a violent shake, for example— 
or even without any assignable cause. In such cases 98 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
the astonished subject is suddenly restored to sight. 
It is very possible that some of the supposed miracles 
of the middle ages may have been cases of this 
kind. 
Surgeons meet with, after operations for cataract, 
very curious illustrations of the differences in human 
temper. Often the most grateful triumph will be 
displayed at the restoration of even a very limited 
share of sight; and now and then an old woman 
will grumble, after a brilliant success, because she 
“can't see well without spectacles." 
In addition to the common defects which I have 
described, and which are of great interest to the non- 
professional reader as well as to the surgeon, the eye 
is liable to a great number of special diseases. A 
large group of these are seated in the deep parts of 
the organ, and cause more or less complete blindness 
without anything being visible externally. Such was 
the condition of Milton : 
“ These eyes, though clear 
To outward view of blemish or of spot, 
Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot.” 
To this group the term Amaurosis used to be given; 
and a witty writer defined it to mean cases in which 
the patient was blind and his surgeon could see no- 
thing. The discoveries of modern science have, how- THE EYE AND SIGHT, 
99 
ever, rendered this description no longer applicable. 
The surgeon can/ now examine the deep parts of the 
eye just as easily as those on the surface. This is 
done by a little instrument named the Ophthalmo- 
scope. By its aid, and with artificial light properly 
arranged, the interior of the eyeball, its blood-vessels, 
the optic nerve, etc., can be readily seen, and any 
disease which may be present easily appreciated. It 
is not practicable here to describe either its use or 
its revelations. We may remark, however, that many 
of the details of the eye as seen by the ophthalmo- 
scope are exceedingly beautiful and interesting, and 
that there is no reason why doctors should keep them 
to themselves. The instrument is as easily used as 
the microscope; and it is to be hoped that, before 
long, opportunities will be afforded to amateur physi- 
ologists, as well as to professionals, for enjoying the 
marvels which it displays. A countryman of our own, 
Mr. Gumming, made the earliest observations on the 
possibility of seeing into the living eye; but it was 
reserved for Helmholtz, Ooccius, and Eeute, of Ger- 
many, to invent and perfect the instrument which 
has, in a double sense, thrown such a flood of light 
on the obscure diseases of the eye. Their successful 
labours entitle them to high rank amongst the bene- 
factors of mankind. PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
In reference to the diseases of the deep parts, we 
must say a few words respecting the Anatomy of the 
Retina, etc. By referring again to Fig. 5, the reader 
will see that the optic nerve enters the back of the 
eyeball, or rather it passes backwards out of the eye, 
and thence into the skull, to be joined to the brain. 
This nerve begins in the eye as a delicate outspread 
membrane, which lines the back of its cavity, and is 
in contact with the vitreous humour, which latter 
supports it, and holds it in place. The retina is indi- 
cated in Fig. 5 by a broken line. This retina is the 
structure which receives impressions. On it, as on 
a photographer’s plate, images of objects seen are 
focussed by the lens .apparatus in front. By means 
of the optic nerve (a bundle of nerve-fibres, or tele- 
graph wires), the retina is made continuous with the 
brain; indeed, it may, in a certain sense, be regarded 
as a part of the brain drawn out of the skull, and 
packed within the eyeball to serve a special purpose. 
In structure, the retina consists of nerve fibres, and 
of a very delicate and complicated arrangement of 
minute nerve-cells. Close behind the retina is the 
Choroid, a membrane which supplies the back of the 
retina with blood, and which also, being loaded with 
black pigment, serves to absorb any superfluous 
light. In white rabbits, in albinoes, etc., there is no THE EYE AND SIGHT. 
pigment in the choroid, and hence the red glare of 
their eyes, and hence, also, an inability to bear 
strong light. Outside the choroid we come to the 
Sclerotic, the thick, strong, white membrane which 
gives form to the eyeball, and supports the whole of 
ds marvellous internal mechanism. IV. 
TEE SENSE OF SMELL. 
In our previous chapters we have been treating of 
those of our senses which minister specially to the 
mind. We come How to those which are connected 
more closely with the body; and we see at once a 
great distinction. ' For hearing and for seeing—at 
least, as we see and hear—we require not only nerves 
capable of being affected by the minute vibrations of 
light and the larger ones of sound, but also very 
intricate and complicated organs to receive these vi- 
brations, and convey them to a not less complicated 
nervous structure. But the remaining senses are more 
simple. Wonderful as is the power of appreciating 
the variety of odours and of tastes that are presented 
to us, and vast as are the pleasure and advantage 
thence arising, we shall see that they are conferred 
by very simple means; and so may note that in 
Nature, as there is no grudging of resources, so also 
there is no waste. Nothing is done for show. The 
perfect beauty of the human form is the expression of 
work most perfectly, and in the simplest way, adapted 
for its end. THE SENSE OF SMELL. 
103 
We will take first tlie faculty of smell. The place 
which this sense occupies is determined by its nature. 
It must be situated in the channel through which we 
breathe, inasmuch as the perception of odours is very 
largely dependent upon the passage of air over the 
uerve which is to be affected by them. We can 
imagine that the eyes, or at least the ears, might 
have been placed elsewhere without losing much of 
their usefulness,—indeed, if Professor Huxley is to be 
believed, some creatures have them in their tails,—but 
smelling must be seated in the nose. How tantaliz- 
lng a delicious odour would be, if we could not sniff 
xt up. This action is the equivalent of “ looking,” 
or “ listening; ” and, indeed, it may explain to us, 
by an easy example, what the real nature of looking 
°r listening, or, in a wider sense, of attending, is. 
Besides the action of the mind, trying to perceive, 
there is, in all cases of attending to our bodily im- 
pressions, a bodily action also—an action of the 
muscles. We “ sniff up ” a faint sound by adjusting 
the tension of the drum, and in examining a minute 
object the eye “ sniffs up ” by contraction of the 
pupil and adjustment of the lens. In this respect, 
as in others, one law goes through all the senses. 
Even if we did not smell at all, we must still have 
a nose to breathe through. Eor it may not be amiss 104 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
to remark—being upon noses—tbat the habit of 
breathing through the mouth instead is a very bad 
one, and one that should never be tolerated, especially 
in children. Not that it should be combated by 
command or argument alone, though these are need- 
ful, still less by punishment. It never exists unless 
there is an impediment to the natural way of breath- 
ing, in the form, generally, of swelling of the lining 
of the nose or throat, and that impediment should of 
course be cured. 
We ought to breathe, not through our months, 
but through our noses, not only because it is by this 
means alone that we can duly receive and enjoy the 
odours (when enjoyable) which accompany every 
breath, or take warning by them if the contrary, but 
because the nose is itself a natural respirator. It 
contains a special provision for warming and moisten- 
ing the air inspired. Tig. 1, which represents • a 
section of the nose from above downwards, illustrates 
this point. The reader is supposed to be looking from 
behind, and the section to be made about half-way 
between the tip of the nose and the ear. It will be 
seen that instead of being a simple channel, through 
which the air might pass unimpeded, it is cut up 
into a number of small and winding passages. It is, 
in fact, subdivided by various curved plates of bone. THE SENSE OF SMELL. 
which project from each side towards the central par- 
tition, and leave at no part more tlian a comparatively 
Fig. 1. 
SECTION THROUGH THE NOSE EEOM ABOVE DOWNWARDS. 
a. Bone of forehead, b. The frontal cells, c. Central partition, or 
septum, of the nose. d. The middle spongy bone. e. The inferior 
spongy bone. f. Cavity in the cheek bone. g. Communication of this 
cavity with the nose. 
narrow space. Besides this, the nose communicates 
with large free spaces on each side and above, which 
are all of them filled with air. The spaces at the 
sides lie behind the projections called the (< cheek 
bones,” and the spaces above constitute the promi- 
nence, much larger in some persons than in others, 
just above the nose and between the eyes. Now PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
these spaces have nothing to do with smell, neither 
indeed has all the lower part—much the larger part 
—of the nose itself. The large, curved, projecting 
bone (Fig. 1, d), called the lower spongy hone, and all 
the portion of the nose on a level with and below 
it, receive none of the nerves of smell. These are 
confined to the upper part of the cavity (see Fig 2). 
The lower two-thirds, nearly, of the nose, and all 
the adjoining cavities, serve to prepare the air for 
the purposes of breathing, and at the same time fit 
it to act more powerfully in exciting the sense of 
smell. 
For this purpose these parts are covered with a 
thick layer of membrane which, especially in the 
neighbourhood of the spongy bone, receives a very 
large supply of blood. (Thus it is that the nose 
bleeds so freely and so frequently.) This membrane 
secretes the mucus with which the nose is moistened, 
and it thus serves at once to warm and to moisten 
the air which is inhaled, and which must pass over 
this surface before it can reach either the lungs or 
the upper portion of the nose appropriated to the 
sense of smell. The tears, also, which are continually 
washing the surface of the eye (see page 65), pass 
down into this portion of the nose, and so help to 
maintain its moisture. During “ colds ” these secre- THE SENSE OF SMELL. 
107 
foons are sometimes enormously increased. The cells 
line the lower part of the nose—as in many 
other parts of the body—are provided with what are 
termed cilia—minute hair-like processes, which during 
life, and indeed for a short time after death, are in 
a state of rapid motion to and fro. Thus regular 
currents are maintained in any fluids that may be 
present. In the upper part of the nose, where smell 
18 performed, the cells do not posses cilia, and the 
membrane is still softer and thicker, affording a bed 
0r a special nervous structure. 
This nervous structure is represented in Fig. 2, 
■which shows the olfactory nerve (as the nerve of 
smell is termed) as it is distributed on the outer 
Slde of each nostril. It is distributed also in a 
similar way upon each side of the central partition. 
These nerves come off on each side, from a bulb of 
nervous matter (Fig. 2, h), which consists of small 
cells hke the grey matter of the brain, and which is 
connected with the brain by a short stem. The 
bulbs lie within the skull, immediately above the 
nose, and the nerves pass into the nostrils through 
some twenty or more small orifices in the bone; 
which accordingly, when it is dry, looks somewhat 
hke a sieve at this part, and is called the “ sieve-like 
plate.” Passing through the perforated plate of bone, PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
the nerves form a close network on both sides, and 
on the roof of the narrow upper portion of the nose 
(see Fig. 1). Besides these special nerves of smell, 
the interior of the nose is supplied with nerves which 
Fig. 2. 
THE DISTEXBUTION OF THE NEEVB OP SMELL IN THE OUTEE WALL OP THE 
NOSE. 
a. The bulb of the olfactory nerve, h. Its branches, c. and d. 
Branches of a nerve of ordinary sensation, e. Distribution of these on 
the lower spongy bone. Below are seen the upper and part of the lower 
jaw. 
give it ordinary sensation, and which are parts of 
the same nerve that gives sensation to the face, the 
eyes, the teeth. 
The nerve of smell is different in its character from THE SENSE OF SMELL. 
109 
the other nerves, being very soft, and not having a 
distinct outer part, or sheath, and internal “ axis.” * 
It is unlike any other nerve also—so far as is yet 
known—in this, that it passes to the very surface of 
the body, its fibres at their termination being entirely 
uncovered. The cells which clothe the mucous mem- 
brane on which it is distributed are of what is called 
Fig. 3. 
TWO OF THE CELLS WHICH COVER THE MEMBRANE OF THE NOSE, WITH 
ONE OF THE TERMINATIONS OF THE NEEVE OF SMELL. 
a. nerve, b. cells. Magnified 500 diameters. (After Schultze.) 
the columnar form (see Fig. 3, a). And lying side 
by side with them are found minute rods or cylin- 
* It has been doubted by some whether this nerve really is the organ 
of smell, but into this controversy we need not enter. One- of the 
strongest arguments for its being so is, that it is more developed in 
animals in proportion as their sense of smell is strong. PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
ders, with cell-like expansions about midway in their 
length, which there is good reason for believing to 
be the ends of the olfactory nerves (see Fig. 3, h). 
These nervous rods or cylinders are very numerous, 
so as to surround the cells of the mucous membrane 
Fig. 4. 
SURFACE OF THE MEMBRANE OF THE NOSE (MAGNIFIED 500 DIAMETERS) 
The large spaces are the ends of the cells. The ends of the nerves are 
the small white points around them. From the horse. (After Schultze.) 
(see Fig. 4), and they terminate on the same level 
with them, so that they come into direct contact 
with the air and whatever odorous substance it may 
convey, except in so far as they are guarded by the 
mucous fluid that bathes the whole surface. This 
fluid it is the function of numerous small glands 
(little bags lined with small cells), embedded in the 
soft and pulpy membrane, to secrete (see Fig. 5, d). 
This is the simple arrangement of parts on which the 
sense of smell depends. 
The external form of the organ which contains them is THE SENSE OF SMELL. 
too well known to need description. But it may be 
mentioned that the outward nose is made up of two 
Tig. 5. 
SECTION OF THE MEMBBANE LINING THE NOSE. 
a. Layer of cells, h. Boundary between the cells and the membrane 
beneath, c. The nerve of smell, d. Small glands. Magnified 200 
diameters. {After Schultze.) 
portions: an upper, rigid, and consisting of thin plates of 
bone; and a lower, movable, and composed of several 
distinct portions of cartilage or gristle, which are acted 
on by four small muscles on each side. Thus the nose PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
112 
is able, by its motions, not only to take its due part in 
the expression of tbe countenance, but also to assist in 
respiration, as we may well see in tbe flushed face of a 
child who has run himself out of breath, and often—but 
too often—on sad sick-beds, in the pale and livid counte- 
nance of suffocating men. The opening of the nostrils is 
lined with small hairs, which serve as some protection 
against the intrusion of foreign bodies floating in the air, 
and they lead into the upper and back part of the throat 
by three partially distinct passages, called the upper, 
middle, and lower meatus of the nose, which are 
separated from each other by the lower and middle 
spongy bones (see Fig. 2). 
The sense of smell is very widely distributed among 
animals, in many of which the olfactory nerves are much 
larger than in man; and even when no olfactory nerve 
can be found, the possession of smell is often proved by 
actions. Its chief use appears to be to aid in the choice 
and discovery of food, and it might be expected, there- 
fore, to be more acute in many classes of animals, such 
as the beasts of prey, than in ourselves, who are in this 
respect less dependent on it. The development of this 
sense in dogs is very remarkable; and not less so is the 
peculiar direction it appears to receive in different 
species, which is probably not wholly due to training, 
each having as it were its own natural prey. And the THE SENSE OF SMELL. 
chemist, who has to trace out the poisoner, often, like 
the bloodhound, hunts him down by smell; in many 
cases distinguishing by their odours the different 
forms of poison better than by any other means. But 
perhaps the most remarkable development of the sense 
of smell is found in the insect tribe; and Dr. Hicks 
has recently shown that a large nerve, which goes to 
the posterior pair of wings in four-winged insects, 
or the corresponding nerve in those that have only 
two (as the house-fly), is the nerve of smell. In many 
classes of insects this nerve is larger or smaller, as 
the eyes are less or more perfect: it is very small, for 
instance, in those which pursue their prey by sight, 
as the dragon-flies, the eyes of which are so conspicu- 
ously large. In moths, like the silk-worm moth, the 
sense of smell appears to be carried to the highest pitch, 
and to have its chief use in match-making. 
But even in man, the sense of smell is sometimes very 
acute. There are persons who can distinguish the 
presence of a cat through several doors. And, like all 
our senses, it is susceptible of great development by 
exercise. The savage smells almost like the dog; and 
persons unhappily deprived of other senses have some- 
times found in this lowly faculty no inconsiderable com- 
pensation. It is recorded of James Mitchell, who was 
born blind and deaf, that he could distinguish persons 114 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
and recognise strangers by the sense of smell. Hum- 
boldt states that the Peruvian Indians can distinguish by 
it, in the dark, persons of different races. 
A distinction must be made between odours, properly 
so called, and other sensations which the nose shares in 
common with the rest of the surface, such as that of the 
heat of mustard or the pungency of hartshorn. These 
we do not smell, but feel,—and we feel them with peculiar 
acuteness in the nose, because there the sensitive nerve 
has a very thin covering. This feeling of hot or pungent 
bodies may remain when the sense of smell is entirely 
lost,—a loss which not very unfrequently occurs, either 
from the effect of often-repeated “ colds,” or from 
disorder of the nerves. It is happily not a very serious 
inconvenience, the chief disadvantage being the absence 
of protection against hurtful vapours, which often betray 
themselves by their fetor. In some cases, in which, the 
sense of smell has been lost, the presence of ill odours 
could still be recognised by a tendency to increased 
secretion of saliva which they produced. On the other 
hand, persons who have never possessed this sense at all 
(and some are born without it) may pass a long life and 
never discover its absence. If, however, it has been 
once possessed, its loss is felt as a great privation. One 
of our most gifted authors thus afflicted, describes in 
touching language, the exquisite delight which the THE SENSE OF SMELL. 
sudden perception, though hut for a moment, of the 
odour of a field of beans in full bloom afforded. 
Nor, indeed, should we be at all in the right if we 
despised the sense of smell as a trifling possession, 
or even if we estimated its value—however highly we 
might place it on these grounds—by the mere bodily 
advantages or pleasures it secures. Though ranking 
behind sight and hearing, smell also is a faculty with 
spiritual relations. These are manifested in various 
ways. Perhaps one of the most interesting is the 
strange power which sensations of odour have of 
awakening memory, and recalling with extraordinary 
vividness long past and forgotten scenes. Tennyson 
refers to this power in his “ Dream of Fair Women” : 
“ The smell of violets, hidden in the green, 
Poured back into my empty soul and frame 
The times when I remember to have been 
Joyful and free from blame.” 
And very many of us, who are not poets, have had the 
days of childhood in all their innocence flashed back 
upon us with the freshness of reality by some sudden 
odour, which has brought at once tears to our eyes and 
purer thoughts to our hearts. 
Whether it was from associations of this kind, or 
from some feelings connected with odours that the 
distractions of later days have lost us, perhaps we cannot PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
now discover, but that tbe early world felt a sacrednesa 
in odours of wbicb we bave lost tbe consciousness, 
seems beyond question. Tbrougb all antiquity not a 
temple was erected to any god tbat did not smoke with 
continual offerings of frankincense and all sweet per- 
fumes, Tbe same feeling, that fragrance was the best 
and highest of all gifts, extended itself into private life; 
and if any man would receive a guest with special 
honour, or testify the utterest grief and love for a 
departed friend, he lavished upon him the richest spices 
and the costliest perfumes. And though much of pride 
and luxury in private life, and much of gross superstition 
in religion, mingled with and defiled these usages, yet 
that they were not devoid of a genuine foundation many 
passages of Scripture may teach us. The Jews were 
commanded to offer sacrifices of sweet smells, and a 
special altar to burn incense upon was directed to be 
made of shittim-wood, overlaid with gold. Nor is-the 
meaning of these sweet-smelling sacrifices left doubtful. 
They were the types of praise and prayer; the ascending 
smoke represented the sighs, the songs, of the assembled 
congregation; it wafted visibly to heaven the groanings 
that could not be uttered, the gratitude too deep for 
words. What passionate longings, crushed into the 
deepest recesses of the heart, where no human eye could 
see them; what secret bursts of exultation and delight. THE SENSE OF SMELL. 
have poured themselves out, have found themselves 
written large and full—yet unbetrayed—in those fra- 
grant wreaths that filled the Temple, acceptable to Him 
who filleth beaven and earth:—crowned by the passion 
of that heart which broke in fragrance on the Saviour’s 
feet! And still, in highest heaven, the prayers of the 
saints are as vials full of odour; these prayers, wrung 
from our hearts by fierce sorrows, by terrible temptations, 
by consciousness of weakness, by sense of sin; these 
are the sweet odours unto Him. They are made sweet 
by sympathy, by knowledge of the triumph they foretell. 
To us in this aspect odours are as nothing. They 
have sunk, even, almost into an undeserved contempt, 
as the very types of luxury. It is interesting to in- 
quire why this should be. The difference has been 
ascribed to a greater sensitiveness to odours on the 
part of the early and Eastern nations, together with 
the greater abundance of perfumes in the warmer 
climates they inhabited, and the need they felt for 
bathing, with subsequent anointing. But we do not 
think these are the true reasons, though they may 
have had some share in bringing about the change. 
To us it appears that a truer and more powerful cause 
is to be found in the gradual development of music. 
The ear, in short, lias supplanted the nose. It is in 
sound, and not in scent, that the emotions of the modern PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
world find their expression. Though musical instru- 
ments were in use from the earliest periods, the ancients 
could hardly be said to have had, in our sense of the 
word, any music; and when we consider what that is 
to us and does for us, we can hardly fail to see that, 
if our fathers really were of like passions with ourselves, 
they must have needed something to supply its place. 
This their use of odours evidently did. They employed 
them in public places, bestowed them on their friends 
at their entertainments, made them part of every 
public ceremonial; all which we do with music. Above 
all, they made perfumes a chief element in their religious 
services; but with us music has emphatically taken 
this place. It weeps and exults and aspires for us; 
it teaches our languid hearts to feel; and while it 
lifts our very souls to heaven, we cannot miss the 
wreaths of odorous smoke that performed the same ser- 
vice for the men of old. 
It is no argument against this view that some 
earnest religious bodies repudiate music except in its 
simplest forms, and that those churches which make 
most use of music, as the Greek and Roman, also 
still use incense to a slight extent. More than one 
cause, doubtless, has been at work, but the fact of 
the substitution of sound for odour is manifest, and 
indeed the change is a natural one; the affinity THE SENSE OF SMELL 
119 
of tlie two senses is especially close, and tlie 
sweet scents prepared by nature may well bave been 
tbe forerunners to untutored man of tlie sweet sounds 
tbe cunning brain and fingers of bis maturer days 
should develop for bimself. In <f Twelfth Night,” 
Shakspeare makes the duke say of music,— 
“ That strain again: it had a dying fall; 
Oh it came o’er my ear like the sweet south, 
That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
Stealing and giving odour.” 
So, again, Lord Bacon, in his essay <( Of Gardens,” 
says, “ The breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air— 
where it comes and goes like the warbling of music— 
than in the hand.” These two passages alone might 
suffice to make us feel that in its deeper meaning per- 
fume is one with music. 
In substituting the latter for the former, doubtless, 
we are largely gainers on the whole. The ear is an 
organ of far greater capacity for spiritual purposes 
than the nose; but the gain may not be altogether on 
our side. We may concede that we have lost some- 
thing through that more frigid temperament and less 
genial clime which have degraded the sense of smell 
into a mere matter of bodily pleasure, and sanitary or 
scientific use. But on the whole it is a gain. If the 
musical faculty could only be fully developed at PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
120 
the expense of the sense of smell, it was well the latter 
should be sacrificed; well, too, that in these days, 
when there is so much work for it to perform in 
making and keeping our cities wholesome, the nose 
should not be diverted from its proper work, in which 
it is unsurpassable, to romantic enterprises and toils 
of imagination, for which it is less fitted. The nose 
is a working organ after all, and loses no real dignity 
in resigning to the ear the function of rousing and ex- 
pressing feeling. 
On this point the late and much-to-be-lamented 
George Wilson has some remarks so excellent, that 
we cannot forbear quoting them. 
“ I have not seen it anywhere laid down as a general 
rule, but I believe it might be affirmed, that we are 
intended to be impressed only sparingly and transiently 
by odour. There is a provision for this in the fact 
that all odours are vapours or gases, or otherwise 
volatile substances, so that they touch but the inside 
of the nostril and then pass away. 
“In conformity with this fleeting character of odorous 
bodies, it is a law in reference to ourselves, to which 
as far as I know, there is no exception, that thei’e is 
not any substance having a powerful smell of which 
it is safe to take much internally. The most familiar 
poisonous vegetables, such as the poppy, hemlock. THE SENSE OF SMELL. 
121 
henbane, monk’s-hood, and the plants containing 
prussic acid, have all a strong and peculiar smell. 
Nitric, muriatic, acetic, and other corrosive acids, have 
characteristic potent odours, and all are poisons. Even 
bodies with agreeable odours, like oil of roses, or 
cinnamon, or lavender, are wholesome only in very 
small quantities; and when the odour is repulsive, only 
in the smallest quantities. Without accordingly en- 
larging on a topic which might be unwelcome to many, 
it may be sufficient to say here, that, so far as health 
is concerned, the nostrils should be but sparingly 
gratified with pleasing odours, or distressed by un- 
grateful ones. No greater mistake can be made in 
sick rooms than dealing largely in aromatic vinegar, 
eau de cologne, lavender water, and other perfumes. 
This hiding of one odour by another, is like trying to 
put away the taste of bitter aloes by that of Epsom 
salts. Physical comfort is best secured by rarely per- 
mitting an infraction of the rule, that the condition of 
health is no odour at all. 
“ Turning from this lowest and least attractive aspect 
of tlie sense of smell to one which acquires a higher 
importance from the moral considerations which, in 
some respects, it involves, it is of interest to notice how 
much longer we tolerate a forbidding odour than we 
continue to relish a grateful one. 122 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
“Perfumes quickly pall upon us, and we loathe the 
concentrated essences of even the sweetest flowers. 
But, in their daily calling, men submit without murmur 
to the most repulsive effluvia, and work even cheerfully 
amidst noisome gases. In the one case we seek pleasure, 
and are disappointed, because the nerves of smell, 
dulled by the first impression upon them, cannot with 
equal sensitiveness respond to a second. In the other, 
for the same reason, we can suffer without discomfort 
the diminished sharpness of the irritation, whose sharp- 
est provocations are its first. There is thus a physical rea- 
son why we should tire of a smell once pleasant, and grow 
indifferent to a smell once unwelcome. There is a moral 
reason also. For in the one case we think of pleasure, 
and in the other of duty. The palled perfume tells us 
that but little of our lives maybe spent in merely pleasing 
our senses. The tolerated infection bids us sit by the 
sick man’s side, and set the preciousness of his life over 
against a little discomfort to ourselves. And so it is 
that, while the listless voluptuary flings away the 
rose which has become scentless to him, the metal- 
worker labours heartily among the vapours from his 
crucibles and refining vessels, and the bleacher inhales 
without a murmur the fumes of his chlorine; while, 
most tried of all, the busy anatomist asks no one for 
pity, but forgets the noisome odours about him, in THE SENSE OF SMELL. 
123 
delight at the exquisite structures which he is tracing, 
and the heroic physician thinks only of the lives he 
can save.”* 
Nothing is more wonderful in respect to the sense 
of smell than the minuteness of the substances which 
are capable of affecting it. One part of musk in 
thirteen millions of air can be detected. Whether 
odorous substanfces give off minute particles which 
reach the nostrils, or whether smell may be excited 
by a motion caused by them, like that of heat or 
light, is not certainly decided; but probably both 
occur. Many odorous bodies, such as camphor, per- 
form peculiar motions when small portions are placed 
on water; and Professor Tomlinson found that these 
were due to the rapid giving off of minute particles 
which form a film on the water. But the most in- 
teresting experiments on odorous bodies are those 
desci'ibed by Professor Tyndall, in his recent volume on 
“ Heat considered as a Mode of Motion/* He finds 
that the minute atoms of which all gases consist, must 
be regarded as being in a state of motion, each one 
tending to fly off from the rest in a straight line; an 
odorous vapour fills a room so rapidly by virtue of this 
tendency of all its atoms, and it would fill it much more 
* The Five Gateways of Knowledge, p, Gl. 124 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
quickly except that these atoms as they fly strike against 
and are hindered by the atoms of the air. But again, 
he finds, that odorous exhalations absorb a vast amount 
of heat. "No chemist,” he says, "ever weighed the 
perfume of a rose; but in radiant heat we have a test 
more refined than the chemist's balance. The quantity 
of hartshorn removed from a bottle by a single act of 
smelling, exercises more action on radiant heat than 
all the air contained in a large room. By testing 
various perfumes. Professor Tyndall found that that 
of the geranium absorbed thirty-three times as much 
heat as air, while that of aniseed absorbed three hun- 
dred and seventy-two times as much. 
This fact indicates that odorous substances are in 
a state highly prone to active change; and Professor 
Graham has pointed out that, generally speaking, 
they are substances which are prone to unite with 
oxygen. Nor can we smell unless the odorous body 
is accompanied by a stream of air. 
We may be sure of one thing: that if the nose had 
not sunk down into a very degraded rank, it would never 
have been made a snuff-box. But however much a 
naturally refined and delicate organ may be thus 
perverted, perhaps it can hardly be affirmed that the 
moderate use of snuff does any special harm. It is, 
however, a matter worth considering, now that there is THE SENSE OF SMELL, 
125 
so much evidence that excessive smoking injures the 
sight, whether the application of tobacco to a region so 
closely connected with the eyes may not tend to injure 
them. But besides snuff-taking, which may itself be 
considered a disease, the nose is not subject to many 
morbid conditions. The small glands which cover it 
sometimes become obstructed with their own secretion, 
and give it a spotted appearance. Of this condition we 
shall speak when we treat of the skin. It becomes red 
from over-living, and from under-living likewise; be- 
cause in each case the circulation of the blood is dis- 
ordered. 
When the nose is very prone to bleed, and cannot 
be arrested by door-keys down the back, or by cold 
water freely applied, the best plan is to let the child 
stand with his arms raised. He should be well sup- 
ported, and should be kept in this position until the 
bleeding ceases, which it does when he becomes faint. 
But nose-bleeding is in some cases so serious an affair, 
as to demand for its treatment the utmost surgical 
skill. When the nostrils are obstructed by thickening 
of their lining membrane, which is indicated by the 
mouth being kept partly open, by snoring, by a choky 
sound of voice, or when the breath coming from the 
nostrils is offensive, general medical treatment is re- 
quired, including plenty of air, exercise, and good food, 126 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
and guarding from draughts and damp; but, in the 
meantime, it is a most useful plan to draw up, quite 
through the nose into the throat, a little water, to half-a- 
pint of which a teaspoonful of salt has been added, and 
thus to wash the passage. In not a few cases, however, 
obstruction to the breathing through the nostrils arises 
from soft pulpy growths, which are the better for prompt 
attention. Y. 
TEE SENSE OF TASTE. 
Taste appears to stand midway between the sense of 
smell and that of touch. It is closely allied in its use, 
and in the nature of the sensations it gives, to smell; 
from which it is, indeed, sometimes almost indistinguish- 
able. But in the character of the organs on which it 
depends it more resembles touch, and this in two 
respects: first, that we can only taste substances which 
are in contact with our own body; and, secondly, that 
the nerves by which we taste are not, like those of 
sight, of hearing, and of smell, capable of that one 
ofiice alone, but are ordinary nerves which can discern 
general sensations—as those of pleasure or pain, or 
heat or cold, or touch, besides. 
Tims, as we descend in tlie rank of the senses, we 
find less and less that is special. In the eye and ear 
we have a special nerve and a special mechanism to 
receive the impression as well; in smell there is no 
special mechanism, a part of the general mncons surface 
of the body suffices to receive the impression of odours, 
but there is a special nerve; in taste, there is neither 
a special nerve nor a special mechanism. 128 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
For though the tongue is the chief organ of taste 
we must not think of it as being the only organ, or as 
existing even chiefly for that end. As the nose exists 
rather for breathing than for smelling, so the tongue is, 
in truth, more an organ of touch than of taste; it exists 
rather as a means of grasping than of enjoying food, and 
might, perhaps, best be regarded as a kind of third or 
subsidiary hand; as we see when we look at its use in 
many of the lower animals. 
In the shell-fish and the like—to begin with the lowest 
creatures that have tongues—this organ bears their teeth, 
and serves, not to taste, but to masticate. In many 
fishes, too, the tongue bears teeth, whereby they grasp 
their prey; some others having no tongue at all. 
Among reptiles, the frog catches flies between the two 
portions into which the tongue is divided, as between the 
limbs of a forceps; and the chameleon uses its tongue in 
the same way, darting it out to a length exceeding that 
of its whole body, and entangling insects by means of a 
viscid secretion with which its club-shaped extremity is 
covered. 
In birds, the tongue is usually borny at tbe tip, tbongb 
there are some exceptions, of which the parrot is one. 
Its hand-use is seen in many instances; in the humming- 
bird it is rolled into a sucking-tube, and terminates in 
hair-like filaments for retaining the nectar of flowers; in THE SENSE OF TASTE. 
129 
tlie toucan (a bird of the parrot tribe) it is fringed with 
bristly processes for trying the ripeness of fruit; and in 
the woodpeckers it is barbed with sharp spines for 
seizing insects. 
Among mammalia, we may mention the tongue of the 
anteater, which resembles somewhat that of the chame- 
leon, and in seizing its natural food is protruded sixteen 
or eighteen inches. Some bats, again, possess in their 
tongue a perfect sucking organ; and who has not noticed 
how the horse lays hold of the grass with his tongue ? 
In the flesh-eaters (the Carnivora), that organ is armed 
with horny recurved spines, which aid in grasping their 
food, or in rasping the flesh from the bones, not to speak 
of its use in cleaning their own coats. Of those four- 
handed creatures, the monkeys, we will not speak; no 
doubt they—making, as they do, a fifth hand of their 
tails—find little need for a hand-function in their 
tongues. But even in ourselves, it is noteworthy, that, 
so far as regards delicacy of sensation, the tongue is still 
the most highly endowed organ of touch, and can dis- 
tinguish many minute forms with greater exactitude 
than the best trained fingers. 
In short, taste is a secondary function of the tongue, 
and is by no means exclusively confined to that organ. 
The upper and back part of the mouth is also endowed 
with this sense, and so, it would appear, from some 130 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
recent experiments of Professor Syme, is the upper 
portion of the throat, still more highly. Having had 
occasion to remove the whole tongue of a man, Mr. 
Syme found that his patient could still distinguish 
different articles by their taste, but only when they 
passed into the pharynx in the process of swallowing. 
From this it would appear that the act of swallowing is 
essential to a full perception of taste. And the Pro- 
fessor well remarks, “If the pleasure of taste could be 
perfectly gratified by mastication without deglutition, 
there would be no limit to the consumption of food; 
but the instinctive desire to swallow an agreeable morsel, 
affords a check to any such abuse.” 
We may add, that, although no doubt very naughty, 
children are perhaps not quite so unreasonable as is 
supposed in refusing to swallow nasty medicines, when 
they have taken them into their mouths. 
Still taste resides chiefly in the tongue, both by virtue 
of the fuller distribution there of the nerves of taste, and 
also because the tongue is able, by its motions, to roll 
sapid bodies between itself and the walls of the mouth, 
by which means their flavour is greatly increased. For 
the sense of taste appears to depend upon the substance 
tasted being dissolved, and its solution penetrating 
through the minute cells which cover the tongue (as they 
cover all the rest of the internal surfaces of the body). THE SENSE OF TASTE. 
131 
and coming into contact with the nerves which lie 
beneath them. This, of course, is greatly aided by the 
Fig. 1. 
SURFACE OF THE TONGUE, SHOWING THE PAPTT.T.TE. 
A little more than half is given. 
a. The circumvallate papillae, h. A larger papilla, situated in the 
centre and back part, and called the foramen caecum, c. Fungiform 
papillae, d. Filiform and conical papillae. /. Glands of the fauces. 
g. Tonsil. 132 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
motions of the tongue, and by the pressure which it 
applies. 
The appearance of the surface of the tongue is re- 
presented in Fig. 1. It will be seen that it is covered 
with small elevations, and that these are of various kinds. 
In fact, the tongue bears on its surface no less than four 
different kinds of organs, if we may give them that 
name, of which one kind serves chiefly the sense of 
touch, another renders it more useful as a means of 
grasping objects, and two kinds serve the sense of taste. 
These organs are all termed papillce, because they con- 
sist in more or less pointed elevations of the covering 
membrane, into which there pass minute blood-vessels 
and nerves. 
The first kind of papilla), those which make the tongue 
so sensitive an organ of touch, are the smallest and most 
Fig. 2. 
THE SMALL PAPXLLiE ON THE SUBPAGE OF ONE OP THE (fUNGIFOEm) 
PAPIIjLiE OF TASTE. 
numerous. They are minute, sharp processes, very much 
like the papillae which are found in the skin, and are 
closely studded all over the tongue, and even upon the THE SENSE OF TASTE. 
133 
surface of tlie larger papillae: Figs. 2 and 4 exhibit them 
covering the papillae of taste. 
The second kind of papillae, those which enable the 
tongue to grasp, are less developed in man than in many 
other animals; they are called filiform (or thread-like), 
and are seen very much magnified in Fig. 3. The layer 
Fig. 3. 
a. The papilla terminating in small secondary papillae. &. The hair- 
like processes covering the papilla. 
ONE OF THE FILIFORM PAPILLA. 
of cells which covers them (as it covers all the other 
papillae) is prolonged into thin processes somewhat re- 
sembling hairs. They are set, for the most part, with 
a slight inclination backwards. In the carnivora these 
papillae are very large, and the hair-like processes are 
often of a horny consistence. These are closely set over 
the anterior three-fourths of the tongue, especially along 
the central part. They become shorter at the sides 
and tip, and are arranged in slanting ridges, which 
gradually disappear as they reach the edge. 134 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
The papillae which serve taste are the largest, but 
one kind much larger than the other. The smaller 
of the two are called fungiform, because they are larger 
at the upper part than at the base—like a small mush- 
Fig. 4. 
SECTION OF A FUNGIFORM PAPILLA. 
Showing the blood-vessels entering it; at the sides are shown the 
single loops of vessels which pass into the small papilla; around. 
room or fungus (see Figs. 2 and 4). They are less 
numerous than the thread-like papillae of which we have 
spoken, but still are scattered in large numbers over 
the tongue, being more numerous at the sides than 
about the centre. They are of a deep-red colour, from 
their large supply of blood, and the layer of cells that 
covers them is thin and soft. 
The largest kind of papillae are found only at the 
back of the tongue (see Figs. 1 and 6). They are called 
circumvallate (“ walled-around ”) because they consist 
of a central elevation surrounded by a depression. THE SENSE OF TASTE. 
135 
around which, again, tliere runs a slight elevated run. 
Thus they resemble somewhat a citadel surrounded 
by a trench and by an external mound, both citadel 
and mound receiving blood-vessels and nerves. These 
Fig. 5. 
VERTICAL SECTION OE A CIECUMVALLATE PAPILLA. 
a. The papilla, b. The surrounding wall. c. Layer of cells covering 
them. d. Nerves, e. The smaller papilhe, which, when found upon the 
larger or taste-papillae, are called secondary. 
circumvallate papillae are only from ten to fifteen in 
number, and are arranged quite at the back part of 
the tongue, in a form resembling the letter Y, but with 
a less sharp angle (see Fig. 1, a). In these papillae 
the nerves are especially large. 
It thus appears that there are two modes, slightly 
differing, in which the nerves of taste are, as it were, 
“ housed ”at the surface of the tongue. Curiously 
enough, there are also two distinct nerves, which are 
distributed—at least in chief part—one to the fungiform 
papillae at the front and sides, and the .other to the 136 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
circumvallate papillse at the back. These two nerves 
are seen in Fig. 6, at g and i. 
Fig. 6. 
A SIDE VIEW OF THE TONGUE. 
Showing its nerves and some of its muscles, 
a. The cellular covering of the tongue partially raised, b. The papilla? 
exposed, c. The circumvallate papilla?, d. A muscle passing from the 
throat to the tongue, e. The muscle which radiates from the inside of 
the chin to the tongue. /. The artery of the tongue, g. Nerve of the 
anterior part of the tongue, g'. Its distribution, h. Nerve passing to 
join it through the ear. i. Nerve of the posterior part of the tongue, 
i'. Its distribution, k. Motor nerve of the tongue, supplying its mus- 
cles. THE SENSE OF TASTE. 
137 
Still more curiously, it seems also to be tbe case tliat 
different kinds of flavours are perceived by these two 
nerves respectively; salt and acid substances being 
tasted chiefly at the fore part of the tongue, and bitter 
ones chiefly at the back. Experiments on animals also, 
have confirmed this fact: a dog in which the nerve of 
the posterior part of the tongue has been divided, will 
take quinine mixed with its food, but will not take 
acids; one in which the nerve of the anterior part has 
been divided, will take acids, but not quinine. 
And as pressure on the eye produces a sensation of 
light, and pressure on the ear one of sound, so also in 
the tongue various influences call forth its special sen- 
sation of taste, and this taste differs according to the 
part which is affected. Thus touching the tongue near 
its root with a glass rod, or placing a drop of water 
there, produces, at least in some persons, a distinct 
bitter taste. 
On the other hand, a current of air or a stream of 
electricity directed to the front part causes a salt taste. 
It was, indeed, by means of this salt taste generated in 
the tongue by an electric current, that Yolta’s attention 
was directed to the production of electricity by the con- 
tact of metals, and hence the whole science of gal- 
vanism arose; showing, as Mr. Lewes well says, that 
“ nothing is trivial except to trivial minds, and to 138 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
trivial minds nothing is important unless it directly 
concerns their interests.” 
Professor Graham has lately pointed out a distinction 
between substances, which consists in their being 
capable or not capable of passing, when in solution, 
through thin membranes.* Soluble bodies which are 
crystalline, for the most part pass readily; those which 
are of a jelly-like consistence do not pass. Hence, a 
division is made into crystalloids and colloids—crystal- 
like and jelly-like bodies. 
How, as might be expected, it is the crystalloid class 
of bodies, those which readily pass through membranes, 
that possess taste. And of these, acids and bitters 
appear to be most readily detected by the tongue, then 
saline substances, and lastly sweet ones. Of quinine 
one part can be tasted in 33,000 of water, of sulphuric 
acid one part in 10,000, of common salt one part in 200, 
and of sugar there is needed one part in 80. If the 
tongue be immersed for a short time in water made 
cold by being mixed with ice, or at a temperature as 
high as 125°, the sense of taste is in a great measure 
lost. 
There is one exception to the necessity of a moist 
state of the tongue for the perception of tastes, and that 
* To this process he gives the name of dialysis. THE SENSE OF TASTE. 
139 
is in the case of gases, which are only tasted when 
it is dry. Thus carbonic acid, which in water is taste- 
less, gives a sweetish acid flavour if directed in a stream 
npon the tongue after it has been dried. 
Taste is, perhaps, almost the soonest exhausted of 
the senses, as it is reasonable that it should be, having 
no purpose to serve when appetite is satisfied. It is also 
—though capable of great cultivation, as in the case of 
tea-tasters—one of the least discriminating. If port 
and sherry be alternately tasted by a man whose eyes 
are kept shut, he soon becomes unable to distinguish 
one from the other. This is probably due in some 
degree to the particles of each remaining a certain time 
in contact with the nerves. Besides, just as secondary 
colours are seen of a contrary kind, after the vivid im- 
pression of a very bright one, so there are secondary 
tastes, or “ after-tastes ”as they are called; some bitter 
substances, such as tannin, being followed by a sensa- 
tion of sweetness. And one taste also may destroy 
another, or at least may dull the perception of a hot 
and pungent body. If it is masticated with a large 
quantity of salt, the pod of the red pepper may be eaten 
without burning the tongue. 
Thus we may see that the art of the cook demands no 
contemptible skill so to mingle flavours as to bring out 
the full power of each, and so to cause them to sue- 140 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
ceed each other as that each may add a relish to the 
next.* And though nothing is more contemptible, and 
few things more degrading, than to be a slave to the 
pleasures of the table, it yet behoves us gratefully to 
recognise the goodness that has surrounded the neces- 
sary act of taking food with enjoyments which, if 
moderately used and made the means of cultivating the 
social affections, are not without their elevating in- 
fluences. And it should never be forgotten, especially 
by those who have the management of children, that 
the pleasantness of the taste of food is a very important 
element in its value. No mistake could be greater than 
to suppose that our pleasures are squandered—are 
wasted on us with no other result, though that is no 
mean one, than our enjoyment. Every one of them, 
in its due place, is a potent influence for good, even 
on our bodily frames. The thrill of natural delight 
that runs through a sensitive nerve imparts a fresh 
vigour to every function. But the delight must be 
a natural one; the over-stimulation of the sense of 
pleasure exhausts as much as its natural gratification 
refreshes. 
* In Russia, dinners sometimes begin with toasted cheese, and 
apparently with good effect. Perhaps, acting as a strong stimulus to 
the papillae, it increases their sensibility. THE SENSE OF TASTE. 
141 
And this law of the usefulness of natural pleasure is 
strikingly exemplified in the sense of taste. The food 
that is enjoyed is the food that is digested. The 
pleasure of eating is an essential factor in the due ap- 
propriation of the meal. In the first place, the savour 
of the food is the natural stimulus to the glands which 
secrete the saliva, and causes this fluid, which plays a 
very important part in digestion, to be poured forth in 
due quantity.* And there can be little doubt that the 
pleasurable sensations of taste have a similar influence 
upon the stomach, besides the general improvement of 
digestive tone which they induce. 
It is important for health that the food should be 
enjoyed, and therefore that within the bounds of strict 
moderation it should be such as can be enjoyed. This 
should be especially remembered in the case of invalids, 
the whole course of whose diseases may depend upon 
their food being such as excites and pleases their 
appetite. Nor should too strict a regard be paid, in 
many cases of sickness, to what is, however justly, con- 
sidered “ wholesome/'’ Medicines are not exactly 
e< wholesome,” yet they are necessary for some persons ; 
and foods not of very wholesome kinds are sometimes 
* That the saliva may he well mixed with the food, is one reason for 
the importance of perfect mastication. 142 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
of use when the sick man's, or sick child's, appetite 
demands them. Care should be taken to distinguish 
between a genuine craving of nature, and a merely 
acquired taste, or a desire, such as that for slate pencil, 
which is a symptom of disease requiring a proper treat- 
ment. But with due prudence here, a very humble 
deference to the demands of appetite is the fitting mode 
of feeding the sick. 
On this subject Sir Henry Holland remarks that “we 
are authorized to give greatest heed to the stomach 
when it suggests some seeming extravagance of diet. 
It .may be that this is a mere depravation of the sense 
of taste; but frequently it expresses a real need of the 
stomach, either in aid of its own functions, or indirectly 
for the effecting of changes in the whole mass of blood. 
It is a good practical rule in such cases to withhold 
assent till we find, after a certain lapse of time, that the 
same desire continues or strongly recurs; in which 
case it may generally be taken as the index of the fit- 
ness of the thing desired for the actual state of the 
organs. In the early stage of recovery from long 
gastric fevers, I recollect many curious instances of 
such contrariety to all rule being acquiesced in, with 
manifest good to the patient. Dietetics must become 
a much more exact branch of knowledge, before we 
can be justified in opposing its maxims to the natural THE SENSE OF TASTE. 
143 
and repeated suggestions of the stomach, in the state 
either of health or disease.* 
A surgeon of our acquaintance, in the case of a child 
apparently sinking from a lung disease, found out that 
anchovy paste pleased the palate, and, ordering it to be 
given freely, from that time appetite, and with it 
strength, returned. In another case, pickles were given 
with manifest advantage. It would be well if those who 
attend on any sick person should quietly notice any 
desires of this kind, and report them to the physician. 
Judgment is necessary, of course, and in health the 
ordinary rules of wholesomeness are less likely to be 
naturally departed from. So many articles of food also, 
such as pastry, are now made artificially nice with sugar 
and condiments, that the appetite becomes very liable to 
be led astray. In the fact, however, of the usefulness of 
pleasant tastes lies the explanation of the use of spices 
and other condiments, which are all good in their place; 
and the thought that it is not for pleasure only, but as a 
guide, and as a positive advantage in digestion, that the 
enjoyment of food is given us, might well make us 
doubly careful to preserve the sensibility unimpaired by 
pampering or excess. 
* The reader may find this subject philosophically treated in a volume 
by the late Joseph Catlow, of Manchester, entitled Principles of Msthetic 
Medicine. 144 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
That in disease taste is often perverted, or for the 
time quite destroyed, is easily explained, at least in part, 
by the alteration of the fluids of the month and the thick 
layer of unhealthy secretion, or “ fur,” which covers the 
tongue, and cuts off the nerve from contact with the 
food. In fevers, and many other severe diseases, the 
tongue becomes also quite dry—another condition, as 
we have seen, incompatible with taste—and this may 
always be regarded as a serious symptom. But, on the 
other hand, the tongue should not be too “clean,” 
especially after middle life; a certain amount of secretion 
on its surface is natural, and anything like a fleshy 
redness of appearance is an indication of disorder of 
digestion. 
Taste is intimately connected with smell, as is well 
known to nurses: the common plan of holding the nose 
in administering physio being founded on a thoroughly 
scientific basis. In fact, as pointed out by Mr. Paget, 
not a few tastes may be strictly defined as odours per- 
ceived in expiration instead of inspiration. This may 
easily be tested by breathing out slowly through the 
mouth, immediately after swallowing a mouthful of tea. 
Taste seems to be, indeed, not only in the manner in 
which it is most naturally indulged, but even in itself, 
an eminently social sense; and this may fairly go to 
raise it from the low rank in which, on some grounds, we THE SENSE OF TASTE. 
145 
cannot but place it. Not only are the most delicate fla- 
vours but half-enjoyable unless in refined and affectionate 
society, for— 
“ What is a table richly spread, 
Without a woman at its head ? ” 
but the faculty of taste itself refuses to put forth its full 
powers except in association with other senses. 
In this it is in pleasant contrast with some sensibilities 
of higher pretensions. When we are listening to music, 
for example, our eyes are no help to us: the dim 
religious light of the cathedral suits best the highest 
strains; even darkness might add sometimes to its 
sweetness and its power; all sensations but itself are 
intruders. But it is not so with taste. This genial 
faculty calls in both nose and eye to keep it company; 
for it is well known that in the dark the daintiest viands 
lose half their relish. 
And there is no doubt a reason for this sociability, 
so to speak, of the sense of taste, in the fact that it 
is not dependent upon a single nerve, or a nerve dis- 
charging but a single function. Its two nerves, branches 
of some of the most widely-connected and highly- 
endowed nerve-trunks in the body, associate it inti- 
mately on the one hand with the remaining senses, and 
on the other with the chief internal organs. Thus the 
taste-nerve of the anterior part of the tongue is a branch 146 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
of the nerve which supplies the whole face with its 
sensibility, including the eye, the nose, the teeth; and 
it is besides joined by a branch of another nerve 
which passes to it through the ear, and which 
certainly has a share in taste, besides helping to 
regulate the secretion of saliva. In this way the 
sense of taste, so far as it is seated in the front part 
of the tongue, is related to all the other senses, and to 
the great instrument of expression, the face; and accord- 
ingly we see how a strong acid (a taste which has its 
seat in the front of the tongue) throws all the muscles of 
the face into contortions, and will even bring tears into 
the eyes. But an acid taste, however strong, will never 
make us sick. This is a function of the nerve which 
gives the power of taste to the posterior part of the 
tongue: an entirely different one, which is connected 
very closely with those of the stomach, lungs, and heart. 
The tastes that make us sick produce their impression 
on this nerve, having through it an effect upon the 
throat and stomach precisely corresponding to that 
which an acid has upon the muscles of the face. Even 
a touch upon the parts supplied by this nerve, as by 
tickling the back of the throat, as is well known, will 
produce the sensation of nausea. 
Perhaps it is not going too far to believe that it is for 
the sake of these wide-spread connections with other THE SENSE OF TASTE. 
147 
organs that the sense of taste—special and peculiar as it 
is—is not assigned to a special nerve, but is distributed 
between two nerves of general sensation. These wide 
relations are not matters of curious interest alone, but of 
most serious necessity. The very keystone and centre of 
our bodily life lies in this poor and menial faculty, that, 
uninstructed, teaches the whole world the things that 
are and are not good for food. The functions which 
taste discharges, therefore, demand its close and im- 
mediate intercourse with every part. In it, not so much 
one organ as the whole body acts; what the taste affirms 
or denies is the affirmation or denial of the whole frame. 
The sustenance and guardianship of the body are in the 
keeping of the tongue; but the tongue is bridled— 
nature has known how to tame it. 
If it were not for these wide connections of the sense 
of taste, this wondrous gift of instinct would be even 
more mysterious than it is. Taken as the reaction of 
the whole frame upon the various substances that 
surround it, the power of choosing by taste the whole- 
some from the unwholesome, is just sufficiently intelli- 
gible to excite our highest interest. The body thus 
pronounces on the congenial and the uncongenial, con- 
centrating itself into the point—finer than that of the 
finest needle—of a single nervous fibril; but being none 
the less the whole body acting there. 148 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
We cannot but compare—and witb a boundless won- 
der—our own most delicate and varied choice with the 
simple and passive affinities and attractions, of which 
nothing is so low in nature as to be wholly destitute, 
and whereby all things seek one element and refuse 
another. And this universal power we trace upward 
from mineral to plant, which, without consciousness, but 
with an instinct as sure as, or surer than, our own, 
absorbs the nourishment and leaves the poison; and 
from plant to lowest animal, which—mere lump of jelly 
as it appears—folds itself closely round its fitting morsel 
and repudiates all else: wondering the while where 
consciousness begins and “ attraction ” is converted into 
taste; wondering, indeed, over more things than these, 
over many things, but chiefly this: what kind of perspect- 
ive it is that rules our eyes as we look at nature, and 
makes things look so small as they recede from us, and 
how large they truly are. 
If the sense of taste truly has a specially universal 
character, and more than the rest expresses the affinities 
of our whole bodily organization, then we can well 
understand why this faculty rather than any-other has 
given its name to that finer sense to which art appeals, 
and which, when happily trained, enables men to recog- 
nise and delight in the truly beautiful alone. In taste, 
not only the body but the soul expresses its affinities. THE SENSE OF TASTE. 
discerns and craves for tlie congenial, and seeks tire 
sources of its development. Nor perhaps should the 
analogy ever be forgotten. A palate which the flavour 
of a poison does not repel has lost its guardianship of 
life; and so a man whom grossness does not shock, to 
whom refinement, purity, gentleness, heroism, have no 
charms, abandons his soul to death. 
Before we leave the tongue, we must just glance at its 
movements. In this respect it is probably the most 
wonderful organ of the body; and, as might be sup- 
posed, a great many muscles co-operate to give it its 
various motions. A partial view of these is given in 
Fig. 6. 
In the first place, the tongue itself is muscular, being 
chiefly composed of four distinct sets of fibres : of these, 
two sets run along its length, one above and one below; 
the third set pass, in a curved direction, from above 
downwards; and the fourth pass from side to side, also 
curved, like a shallow saucer. These last are attached to 
a dense partition in the centre, from which they radiate 
on either side. By these various muscles the tongue is 
expanded or contracted, and is bent upwards or down- 
wards, or to the sides. 
But, besides being thus itself a group of muscles, the 
tongue is moved by various other muscles which connect 
it with all the surrounding parts, some of which are 150 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
shown in the cut. The chief of them is a large muscle 
which radiates like a fan from the inside of the chin to 
the under surface of the tongue, and serves to protrude 
it from the mouth (Fig. 6, e). 
The motions of the tongue are also rendered more free 
by its being attached to a small bone situated in the 
throat, just above the projecting cartilage known as 
Adam's apple, and which bone is itself movable. But on 
this subject we may have more to say when we come to 
treat of the part the tongue plays in speech. It has a 
special nerve of motion, which is seen in Fig. 6, h, and 
which has numerous connections with the motor nerves 
of the surrounding parts, whereby they are brought into 
conjoint and harmonious action. VI. 
DIGESTION. 
We are apt to forget tliat tliere are two meanings 
belonging to tbe plirase inside the body. A morsel of 
bread placed in tbe mouth is in one sense inside the 
but a needle run into the arm is inside the body in 
another and quite different sense. There is just the 
same difference here as between driving a coach and 
horses through the low and narrow gateway of the court- 
yard of an old-fashioned inn, and stepping from the 
uncovered yard into one of the many cosy chambers 
which surround it. The guest who stayed all night in 
the courtyard would gather but little hospitable comfort, 
and the food which we take would do us but little good, 
unless from being inside the body in one sense it came to 
be inside the body in the other sense. Digestion is, 
broadly, the passing of food from the general courtyard 
of the body into the many-chambered abode we call our 
flesh and blood. The doors that lead from the court are 
very narrow, so narrow that they can be hardly seen 
even when examined with powerful microscopes; and 
hence all the food we eat must be broken up, and divided 152 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
into tlie smallest possible pieces, before it really gets 
within ns. 
In order to effect this, the whole of the alimentary 
canal is a busy scene of minute division. The moment 
any food passes into our mouth, it begins to be acted 
upon by forces which do their best to break it up into 
the finest possible particles, and the work begun there is 
carried on along the whole of the digestive track, until 
all the goodness that is in the food has been strained 
out of it. The forces are many, and of various kinds. 
Some are mechanical; by them the food is cut and 
ground, chopped and minced, rubbed and churned, until 
its smallest particles are worn down to the smallest size. 
Others are chemical; by them the solid food is reduced 
into the liquid state; that is, the molecules making up 
the solid particles are changed in form and nature, in 
order that they may pass almost anywhere. Digestion, 
strictly speaking, is a process of solution and of fine 
division. 
These various forces, moreover, are brought to bear 
upon the food in succeeding districts; the food has to 
run the gauntlet of them all. What the mouth does not 
digest, the stomach attacks; and what the stomach 
leaves, becomes a prey to the intestine. We have thus 
digestion in the mouth, digestion in the stomach, and 
digestion in the intestine, each differing from the others. DIGESTION. 
153 
but all haying this object in view—that the solid food 
should be converted into liquid material, capable of 
passing through the invisible pores of the membranous 
lining of the alimentary canal into the real flesh and 
blood, or be broken up into particles so small that they 
may squeeze themselves one by one through the minute 
openings which exist in certain parts of the intestinal 
wall. 
The digestive process begins in the mouth; among 
civilized people it begins in the plate, or even before. 
Since the food will, if it be digested at all, be broken up, 
as we have said, into particles smaller than can be seen 
with the naked eye, the practice of cooking or softening 
and rendering friable the meat and vegetables of the 
meal, and of cutting them into small pieces before 
placing them in the mouth, may be considered as just an 
artificial and highly praiseworthy lightening of the 
labours of the frame. But it may lead to incidental 
errors. Undoubtedly mastication is the natural method 
of mincing meat, and not the least of its value lies in the 
fact that it takes time. A man who is eating a tough 
and therefore not very digestible chop will be slow in 
eating, if he is careful to masticate it well. There will 
be a long interval between each mouthful, and the 
stomach will run no risk of being hastily loaded. 
Now, a hastily loaded stomach is as bad almost as, or 154 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
rather is the same thing as, an overloaded stomach; and 
there can be no doubt that artificial mastication becomes 
a snare when it leads any one to introduce a large 
quantity of finely-minced meat suddenly and rapidly 
into an unprepared stomach, especially into the feeble 
stomach of an invalid, under the idea that, because the 
meat is so nicely minced and so very tender, it can be no 
possible burden to that sorely-tried organ. 
Natural mastication has, besides, another advantage 
over the artificial process, which is perhaps not always 
recognised. Whenever food enters the mouth, it gives 
rise to what is called a flow of saliva. This saliva is 
secreted by certain glands, which pour iuto the mouth 
the fluid they strain off from the blood, and which are 
excited or stimulated to action by the presence of food in 
the mouth, as well as by other causes. 
Now, putting aside for the present the action of this 
saliva on the food, either in the mouth or elsewhere, 
there can be no doubt, as we shall presently show, that 
it is itself a gentle and natural and yet most po- 
tent and useful stimulus to the stomach, urging that 
organ to pour forth a peculiar digestive secretion called 
gastric juice. Food itself is, of course, also a stimulus 
to the stomach, but it is at the best a rather rough 
and rude stimulus. The saliva, on the other hand, acts 
uniformly and softly; and most stomachs, like their DIGESTION. 
155 
owners, are more effectually led by gentle persuasion 
than by abrupt solicitation. 
Moreover, the saliva is what is called an alkaline 
fluid. Throughout the whole of the animal economy 
there is constant play between acids and alkalies. By 
alkali, we mean such things as potash and soda, 
which turn red litmus paper blue, and whose properties 
are destroyed or suspended when they are mixed with 
acids. By acids we mean such things, whether ordin- 
arily solid or liquid, as vinegar, vitriol, citric acid, 
etc., which turn blue litmus red, and whose properties 
are in turn destroyed, suspended, or neutralised, as 
the phrase is, by alkalies. 
It is perfectly impossible to understand the chem- 
istry of digestion, or the chemistry of any of the pro- 
cesses of the animal economy, without duly appreciat- 
ing these characters of acids and alkalies. Upon 
them half the battle of life may be said to depend. 
Well; the saliva is an alkaline fluid, and it is pro- 
bably because it is alkaline that it serves so admir- 
ably as a stimulus to the stomach. The rationale of 
this we shall see by-and-by. 
Meanwhile, we may remember this, that in masti- 
cation food is both finely minced and ground down, 
and also thoroughly mixed with saliva. By this 
means it is not only moistened, in order that it may 156 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
easily and smoothly pass down the throat (and in 
this it is greatly assisted by the glairiness o£ the 
saliva), but also that, having descended, not too 
rapidly and in not too large mouthfuls, it may be in 
the best condition to call effectually upon the sto- 
mach to do its duty in bringing about the further 
changes that are necessary. 
In many animals, especially in those which live on 
meat only, and probably even in many that live on 
grain, this is the whole of the digestive process that 
belongs to the mouth. In these creatures the food is 
simply masticated, softened, moistened with saliva, 
and rolled up into balls, preparatory to the act of 
deglutition. But, in ourselves at least, another very 
important chemical action is superadded to these 
mechanical ones. 
A great part of our food consists of the material 
called starch. People who live sensibly because they 
are not rich enough to do otherwise, and people 
who, for other reasons, eat wisely, make starch, in 
one form or other, a very considerable element of 
their ordinary diet. When we call to mind that 
bread, potatoes, all farinaceous foods, and a great 
part even of green vegetables, consist very largely of 
starch, the truth of the statement we have just made 
becomes evident enough. DIGESTION. 
157 
Now starch, is stored up by the forces of vegetable 
life in the tissues of plants, not, for the most part, 
at least, as a formless powder, which can easily be 
ground finer, or perhaps still more easily dissolved, 
but in the shape of little grains of a very peculiar 
Fia. 1. 
SLICE OF RAW POTATO, MAGNIFIED 200 DIAMETERS 
Showing a vegetable cell, filled with a confused heap of starch cor 
puscles of all sizes. One of the starch corpuscles is seen free at A. 
appearance when seen under the microscope, as is 
shown in Fig. 1. 
Various plants build up tlieir starcb granules or 
starch corpuscles in various ways, and an experienced 158 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
microscopist, by examining a specimen of starch, can 
tell whether it came from potatoes or wheat or rice. 
But in every case the starch exists in the form of 
these corpuscles, which are little masses with a stout 
elastic exterior; and from what we said at the begin- 
ning of this paper, it will be at once evident that 
these corpuscles must be broken up before they can 
pass into the real inside of the body. Generally they 
are broken up during the process of cooking. 
Under the action of boiling water, the envelopes 
of these corpuscles burst, and their contents become 
a sort of fluid. Every one knows that fresh unboiled 
starch, such as exists in arrowroot, stirred up with 
cold water, forms a milky fluid, from which, when it 
is left to rest, the starch settles down. The milkiness 
is due to the little starch corpuscles reflecting light. 
When the arrowroot is boiled, it becomes clear and 
transparent, because then the corpuscles burst, and 
their contents become a sort of fluid—a sort of fluid, 
but not a perfect fluid. That stickiness which is the 
great characteristic of boiled starch, and one of its 
most useful properties, is just an evidence that the 
material of the starch corpuscle has not been com- 
pletely dissolved—has not been converted into a per- 
fect fluid, capable like other fluids of passing through 
the walls of the alimentary canal into the blood. DIGESTION. 
Unboiled starch, therefore, would, if let alone in 
the alimentary canal, be of no use as food—the cor- 
puscles could not pass into the body. Nor would 
simple boiled starch be much better, because of its 
n°t being a perfect fluid. The destruction of the 
corpuscles as corpuscles we bring about by the art 
of cooking, and they who neglect this preparatory 
digestion, and eat large quantities of uncooked starch 
in the form of half-cooked potatoes and raw veget- 
ables, suffer for it by not digesting half of what 
they eat. 
But boiled starch is converted almost instantaneously 
(and unboiled starch too, though much more slowly, 
and with much greater labour) into a perfect fluid by 
the action of the saliva. Any one can satisfy himself 
of this by taking a mouthful of the thickest possible 
arrowroot. After rolling it once or twice round the 
mouth, it will at once be felt that it has become 
perfectly thin and limpid. This cannot be due to the 
mere warmth of the body, as arrowroot is thickened, 
or “ made ” as is said, by means of heat. An ab- 
solute change has taken place in it—it is no longer 
starch, but sugar, and it is because it has become a 
mere solution of sugar that it is so thin and limpid. 
Saliva rapidly changes starch into sugar, and sugar 
is pre-eminently a soluble body, passing with the PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
greatest ease from the alimentary canal into the 
blood. 
There can be no doubt, that unless we eat with 
more than American rapidity, a great deal of the 
starch we consume is converted into sugar—is di- 
gested, in fact, before it leaves the mouth, and is 
therefore ready to be absorbed, as it is said—that is, 
to pass from the courtyard into the inner chambers 
of the inn without any further change. 
So far as we know, tke food suffers no other 
treatment in the mouth than the kinds we have 
spoken of, and we will therefore next proceed to 
consider the changes which take place in the sto- 
mach. 
Many persons do not exactly know where their 
stomach is, and a still larger number are apt to for- 
get that it lies very close underneath the heart. So 
close to the heart is it, that it may, or rather very 
often does, wjxen unduly distended with food or with 
gas, press upon or embarrass that important organ. 
This trouble is, of course, all the more likely to 
occur when the heart is enlarged; and if, as often is 
the case, that enlargement be accompanied by weak- 
ness, it becomes a matter of anxious care not to load 
the stomach with too much at one time. 
The outline of the stomach is pictured in Fig. 2. DIGESTION. 
We may roughly indicate its position in the body by 
saying that while the broad end lies underneath the 
left-hand waistcoat pocket, the narrow end stretches 
into the middle line beneath the lower end of the 
breast-bone, in the region popularly called the pit of 
the stomach. 
Fig. 2. 
OUTLINE OP THE HUMAN STOMACH, ONE-FIFTH THE NATURAL SIZE 
a. The entrance of the oesophagus, b. The pyloric orifice leading to 
the intestines, c. The lesser curvature, d. The greater curvature, e. The 
cardiac end. /. Intestinal end. 
It will not escape notice that the food in passing 
down from the mouth by the oesophagus, or gullet, 
would fall upon the lower surface of the stomach. 
If left entirely to the force of its own gravity, the 
food would have a tendency to remain and gather 
together in a heap there instead of passing on to 162 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
the further portions of the alimentary canal. In 
order to prevent this, and at the same time to pro- 
duce other salutary effects, the stomach is gifted 
with a remarkable structure. Its general form is 
that of an elongated sac with two openings, but it 
is essentially a double sac—is made up of an outer 
sac lined by an inner sac. The outer sac is a mus- 
cular sac, and has a mechanical duty to perform; 
the inner sac is a glandular sac, and its office is a 
chemical one. Both sacs are joined loosely to- 
gether; and there is yet a third sac—a sort of 
smooth coat covering the muscular one; but this 
is really an internal skin, and bears about the same 
relation to the muscular walls of the stomach as 
our skin, properly so called, does to the muscles of 
our limbs and body; and we need not pay much 
attention to it. 
The muscular sac is represented with this skin 
taken off in Fig. 3. It is composed of a number of 
muscular fibres, not exactly identical with the mus- 
cular fibres which make up the mass of the flesh of 
our bodies either in structure or function, but still 
similar to them. These fibres are arranged in bands 
and layers, which pass over the stomach in various 
directions, as is shown in Fig. 3. Like all muscular 
fibres, they have the power of shortening or con- DIGESTION. 
tracting from time to time; and they shorten or con 
tract, not, like the muscles of the limbs, sharply and 
spasmodically, but slowly and deliberately. 
Their action might be imitated by slowly squeezing 
a bladder or india-rubber ball half-filled with water, 
Fxa. 3. 
ARRANGEMENT OE THE MUSCULAR FUSEES OF THE STOMACH. 
The regions marked A, b, c represent fibres as seen at different depths, 
gradually tightening and relaxing the grasp while the 
hand is shifted from one part of the bladder to 
another. The effect of this would be to cause a 
movement of the contents of the bladder. By help 
of the particular arrangement of the fibres, this 
movement takes place in an orderly fashion, and the 164 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
food courses regularly round and round the stomach. 
In fact, the mechanical sac churns the food within 
it. 
While the food is thus being continually moved 
about, it is at the same time subjected to the action 
of the chemical sac. This is, as we have said, a 
glandular sac. It is of some thickness, and is made 
Fig, 4. 
a. The mouth of the gland. 6. The inert cells lining the mouth, 
c. The active peptic cells. 
UPPER PORTIONS OF THREE GASTRIC GLANDS, MAGNIFIED, 
of little glands bound up together with that stringy 
fibrous packing material which is found in all parts 
of the body, and which anatomists call connective tissue. 
If we were to imagine many gross of small india- 
rubber phials all placed side by side, and bound to- 
gether with hay or straw into a great mat, and the DIGESTION. 
165 
mat rolled up into a sac, with all the mouths of the 
phials turned inwards, we should have a large and 
coarse, but tolerably fair image of the glandular coat 
of the stomach. Bach phial would then represent one 
of the glands of this coat, one of the gastric or peptic 
glands, as they are called. Each gland, however, is 
not always a simple tube, but is often branched at 
the bottom end, and all of them are lined, except just 
at their mouths, with large rounded bodies, which not 
unfrequently almost choke up their cavity. 
Fig. 4 represents the mouths of three of these gastric 
glands; Fig., 5, the other ends of three others; and 
Fig. 6, a branched gland. The rounded masses, or cells 
as they are called, in the interior of each gland, form 
the really active part of the apparatus. Each cell is 
a little laboratory, which concocts out of the material 
brought to it or near it by the blood a certain potent, 
biting fluid, and is hence called a peptic or, digestive 
cell. Each cell is born at the bottom of the tube, 
and in process of time travels upwards towards the 
mouth. When it reaches the mouth, it bursts, and 
pours into the stomach the fluid it has elaborated, or 
perhaps may give it out without bursting, while it is 
still within its tube. 
In those cases in which it has been possible to look 
in upon the stomach while at work (as in the famous 166 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
case of the Canadian who received a wound in the 
side, penetrating the stomach, which never thoroughly 
Fig. 5 
LOWER PORTIONS OF THREE GASTRIC GLANDS, MAGNIFIED. 
One is filled with peptic cells; another is nearly empty; the third is 
simply a membranous tube, which has lost all its cells. At h are seen 
several of the peptic cells more highly magnified. 
healed, and thus left; a hole from the outside into that 
organ), and where the orifices of the tiny glands (for. DIGESTION 
167 
though, we have compared them to bottles, they are 
exceedingly small) appear like little dots, tears were 
seen to start at the mouths of the glands, gather into 
drops, and finally trickle down into the lowest part of 
Fig. 6. 
BRANCHED GASTRIC GLAND. 
a. The peptic cells, h. The inert cells. 
the stomach. Tlie stomach, as it were, weeps; and 
indeed the weeping of tears is just such another effect 
of glandular activity—only ordinary tears form a mild 168 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
and, chemically speaking, impotent fluid; while the 
fluid which the tears of the stomach form—the gastric 
juice, as it is called—is a sharp piercing water of ex- 
cessive chemical power. It is by the solvent action 
of this gastric juice, very materially assisted by the 
churning action of the muscular coat, that the food 
suffers those changes which make up what is called 
gastric digestion. 
We have spoken of the gastric juice (which, when 
obtained in a pure state, is a clear or nearly clear 
watery-looking fluid, often, however, mixed with thick 
viscid mucus) as a sharp fluid. It is not only sharp 
and somewhat bitter to the taste, but also most dis- 
tinctly acid, and in this point differs most decidedly 
from saliva. Its action, too, is very different from that 
of saliva. We have seen that saliva dissolves starch; 
gastric juice not only has no action on starch, but 
actually prevents saliva from so acting, so that the 
change of starch into sugar, which began in the mouth, 
is arrested as soon as the food reaches the stomach. 
But gastric juice has an intense effect on other ele- 
ments of food, against which saliva is powerless. Every 
joint of meat is made up of fat, bone, gristle, and the 
material which forms the great mass of the meat or 
flesh properly so called. Now this meaty material is 
met with, under the names of nitrogenous or albuminoid DIGESTION. 
169 
or proteid substances, not only in meat and eggs and 
other articles of animal food, but also in almost all 
vegetable foods. The gluten of wheat is such a sub- 
stance. Potatoes, rice, and greens, all contain some of 
it. The curd of milk is a proteid body, so is the basis 
of cheese, some of it even clings to butter. In fact, 
in nearly every article of food, certainly in every meal, 
it is a prime factor. 
Now, in its natural state, either in the solid form of 
meat and muscular fibre, or in the more liquid glairy 
form of unboiled white of egg (in which latter it exists 
naturally in almost its purest form), proteid matter has 
a great objection to being soluble, a very great repug- 
nance to passing through the walls of the alimentary 
canal into the real interior of the body. In order to 
make it pass, it has to be thoroughly dissolved, and 
this thorough solution is very easily effected by gastric 
juice. Even out of the body it will readily reduce first 
into a pulpy mass, and then into a limpid fluid, pieces 
of meat or boiled egg, especially when the mixture is 
warmed up to the temperature of the body, and fre- 
quently shaken. And inside the body the change is 
effected with much greater rapidity. 
It may be urged that unboiled white of egg is itself 
a fluid, but its ropiness is a distinct evidence of its 
want of perfect fluidity, and, as every one knows, it 170 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
becomes a perfect solid when boiled. Very different 
from ordinary white of egg is the fluid which is pro- 
duced when either boiled or unboiled white of egg has 
been for some time digested. This fluid does not be- 
come solid, does not coagulate, as is said, even when 
boiled ever so long. Moreover, if unboiled white of 
egg is put into a bladder, and the bladder, after being 
tightly tied up, sunk in water, little or none of the 
albuminous part of the white of egg will pass through 
the walls of the bladder into the water. But digested 
white of egg similarly treated will pass with the great- 
est ease. So much more fluid, so much more movable 
and slippery in its atoms and molecules, is the digested 
proteid. 
This is briefly the whole duty of gastric juice, the 
sole work of the glandular coat of the stomach. By 
it starch and fat are very little if at all affected, but 
it pounces on all proteids, and, assisted by the churn- 
ing action of its muscular coating, bites and gnaws 
away at them as they are careering round the stomach. 
Under its action, the fragments broken by the teeth 
are softened, and break up into still smaller pieces. 
The small pieces melt away into a perfect fluid, and 
thus become capable of passing through the fine in- 
visible pores both of the delicate membranes which 
form the framework of the glandular tubes, and of DIGESTION. 
171 
the equally delicate walls of the blood-vessels, which 
'Nrap round those tubes like a network of fine threads 
round an india-rubber bottle. In this way the digested 
matters are drawn off into the blood, and become part 
and parcel of the fluid stuffs of the body proper. 
The bones and gristle are broken up and dissolved in 
some such way as the proteids; but the starch and 
fat, and such fragments of meat, skin, and other mat- 
ters, as escape the action of the juice, are ready to 
be passed on, by the grasping, pushing squeeze of the 
muscular coat, to the other districts of the digestive 
tract, where further ordeals and other changes await 
them. 
Such is the process of digestion in the stomach; but, 
unfortunately, it is often accompanied by another pro- 
cess called indigestion. The causes and kinds of in- 
digestion are legion, but they may be thrown into two 
classes. 
In the first place, the secreting glands may be seri- 
ously damaged and permanently impaired. Under 
rough treatment, they get worn out. They wither up; 
their rounded cells shrink and waste; their mouths get 
blocked up with adventitious material, or tightened 
and closed with bands of misplaced tissue. In these 
cases there is little help, save by artificial digestion 
and by careful economy of the waning powers of tho 172 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
organ; and their occurrence is a warning against the 
cruel and careless treatment of such tender structures. 
When it is remembered that the tears which flow 
into the eyes when dust or any foreign matter gets 
into them, are but an image of the tears of a sensitive 
stomach, which weeps gastric juice whenever it is 
touched, it will be readily understood what havoc is 
played when neat brandy, hot peppers, and a host of 
stinging, biting, and cutting condiments are recklessly 
poured into its exquisitely sensitive cavity. 
All these things act, and are used because they act, 
as so many goads or stimuli to the gastric glands, and 
for that reason the wisdom of using them lies entirely 
in the measure in which they are used. No organ in 
the body will work unless it is called upon to work; 
but no organ will stand being exercised beyond the 
limit of work which is natural to it. A horse may 
go all the better for a little whip, but the best horse 
in the world would soon break down under continued 
and laboured thrashing. Unhappily, we flog our sto- 
machs even more than we do our horses, not because we 
want them to go, but because we find we can’t get 
them to go; and, for the sake of temporary success, 
sow the seeds of future permanent failure. 
The other and more common forms of dyspepsia 
are of a more temporary nature, and, at the present DIGESTION. 
173 
day, come about, for the most part, in an indirect 
way. 
These gastric glands, for instance, like all other parts 
of the frame, require themselves to be nourished; and 
when the body wastes, either from complete or partial 
starvation, or from some enemy, in the shape of disease, 
robbing the tissues of all the goodness of the food that 
is brought to them by the stomach, they, in common 
■with all other parts and organs, grow weak. They 
flag in their work, the juice they prepare is thin and 
powerless, and, the more they want nourishment, the 
less are they able to digest and accumulate nutritious 
material for themselves or for the body at large. Hence, 
to a starving seamstress, or to a patient recovering 
from fever—much as they need food—food is a burden, 
and must be doled out to them little by little and 
in the most digestible form. 
The glands, also, like other parts of the body, are 
subject to the influence of the nervous system; and, 
by means of that system, are placed en rapport and 
sympathise with other parts of the body. A subtle 
influence, carried along certain nerves, may paralyse 
these glands, stop their work, and dry up the stomach, 
just as similar influences dry up the mouth through 
stoppage of the flow of saliva. Every one knows how 
fear, anxiety, or pain, so check all saliva, that the tongue 174 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
cleaves to tlie roof of the mouth; in such cases, starch 
may be held in the mouth without undergoing any 
change into sugar. No digestion in the mouth goes 
on. And just the same takes place in the stomach. 
A man goes to dinner with his mind full of fears, 
anxieties, and troubling thoughts. His stomach is dry 
—his gastric glands are stopped in their work, as by 
fright—and the meal lies a heavy, unchanged, undi- 
gested lump, in a powerless cavity. 
Or, on the other hand, something indigestible—some- 
thing unsuitable—is eaten, and the glands resent the 
insult. They strike work. They are made and con- 
structed to digest certain things; and, if they are 
solicited to undertake duties not in their business, they 
refuse. 
In all these cases of temporary indigestion, the means 
of remedy are threefold. 
The first is, especially in cases of indigestion from 
want of power, or from ill-directed and ill-timed nervous 
action, to give the stomach as light and as digestible 
food as possible. The more frequently it is given, the 
sooner will the frame, if it receives the nourishment 
kindly, recover its power; but it must not be given 
too frequently, for these glands require times of rest 
like every other part of the body. 
Secondly, one may administer to the body food already DIGESTION. 
175 
digested—artificially digested. This is a means of 
treatment which as yet has hardly received any great 
practical extension; but it seems to promise a great 
deal. It is very easy to digest artificially a large 
quantity of meat; and by this means a quantity of 
palatable fluid capable of passing at once as digested 
nourishment into the blood without troubling the gastric 
glands at all, might be prepared. Probably in a few 
years this will be largely done. 
Lastly, we may create a sort of artificial gastric juice. 
We said that gastric juice was a biting, sharp liquid. 
It owes its power, partly to its being acid, and partly 
to its containing a peculiar active matter called 'pepsin, 
which is really a sort of ferment. Acids alone will not 
dissolve meat, or dissolve it very very slowly. Pepsin, 
by itself, does not act on meat at all; but pepsin and 
acid together will, sooner or later, dissolve up all the 
proteids that are presented to them. 
Hence, if we give a flagging stomach both acid and 
pepsin, we give it the means of carrying on digestion 
without having recourse to its own capital of strength. 
Under the idea that there is always enough acid in the 
stomach, pepsin (or a mixture of various things, con- 
taining actual pepsin among others, and sold under 
the name of pepsin) is frequently given as a medicine. 
And under the idea (which is much nearer the truth) 176 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
that in ordinary stomachs the great want is not pepsin, 
hut proper acid, this latter is frequently given alone, 
with great benefit. 
But in giving these things, we must remember how 
sensitive and touchy the stomach is. Very frequently 
when we offer a stomach additional acid it is offended, 
and ceases to secrete even the small quantity it was 
pouring out before. On the other hand, by the com- 
mon physiological law that things act as stimuli because 
they are unlike, strange, and foreign to the bodies to 
which they are presented, the presence of an alkali 
spurs the stomach on to pour out more acid, and hence, 
even for the production of acid, a little gentle alkali 
is the best stomachic; and perhaps the best stimulus 
of all is the alkaline saliva. But the due and careful 
administration of these artificial aids to digestion be- 
longs rather to the medical art than to popular phy- 
siology. VII. 
TEE SKIN.—CORPULENCE. 
Jhe skin is a complex structure, which forms a cover- 
ing to the outer surface of the body, and protects the 
deeper and more vital parts. It is the chief seat of the 
sense of touch, and has also other most important offices 
to discharge. At the various orifices, the nostrils, 
mouth, etc., it is continuous with the membrane which 
lines the internal parts, the mucous membrane as it is 
called. At these places there is no sudden change 
from skin to mucous membrane, but a gradual transi- 
tion from the one to the other. And the structure 
°f the mucous membrane is very similar to that of 
flic skin, being modified chiefly by the fact that it 
18 not constantly exposed to the air. Hence, when 
for some reason or other a portion of the mucous 
membrane comes to the surface, its features are altered, 
and it gradually assumes the character of skin; and if 
a portion of skin occupies an internal position, it in 
turn becomes converted into mucous membrane. The 
physician has many opportunities of observing the close 
connection which subsists between these two struc- PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
tures. Thus it often happens that a derangement of 
the mucous membrane gives rise to a disease of the 
skin, or that when an affection of one of them sub- 
sides, disease is lighted up in the other. It is well 
known, too, that medicines which act specially upon 
the one generally act upon the other also. Thus, there 
is no medicine which is so frequently used, nor 'so 
frequently abused, as arsenic in the treatment of skin 
diseases,—a remedy which often requires to be stopped 
owing to its action upon the mucous membrane of the 
lungs. 
The skin is composed of two layers, the scarf 
skin or cuticle (epidermis), which forms a covering and 
protection to the deeper-seated and sensitive parts; 
and the sensitive skin or true skin (cutis vera), which 
contains blood-vessels and nerves and little glands, and 
which differs very materially from the other, not only 
in its structure, but also in its functions. The deep- 
est layers of the sensitive skin consist of a loose net- 
work of what is termed connective tissue, that is, very 
minute fibres which are gathered into bundles and 
cross one another in all directions, leaving little spaces, 
which, however, are not empty, but filled more or less 
completely with masses of fat. (Fig. 1, c.) 
It is this accumulation of fat which imparts that 
softness and smoothness to the skin which ‘constitutes THE SKIN.—CORPULENCE. 
179 
one of the greatest beauties of youth; and it is to its 
diminution that the furrows and wrinkles of age are 
m great measure to be attributed. For this reason it 
Fig. 1. 
PERPENDICULAR SECTION THROUGH THE SKIN OF THE BALL OF THE THUMB 
a. Scarf skin, b', b". The two layers of the sensitive skin. c. Masses 
of fat. d. Papillae of skin. e. Sweat glands. /. Their ducts, g. Opening 
of the ducts upon the surface. 
is that these are almost absent in persons who, al- 
though advanced in years, are more or less corpulent. 
The deepest layer of the skin is of great import- PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
ance, too, in so far as it forms a soft elastic cushion, 
the yielding of which allows a certain degree of move- 
ment to the upper layers, and prevents or diminishes 
the liability of these parts to be injured by pressure 
or violence. 
Were it not for this provision, it would probably be 
impossible for the soles of the feet to bear for any 
length of time the whole weight of the body, for the 
horseman long to maintain his seat upon the saddle, 
or for the mechanic to bear the pressure of his tools 
upon the palm of his hand. 
The quantity of fat accumulated in the subcutaneous 
cellular tissue, as it is called, varies extremely in dif- 
ferent parts of the body, as well as in different persons. 
Thus _it is usually abundant over the stomach, and 
scanty on the head, back of the hands, top of the 
feet, etc. 
The excessive accumulation of fat beneath the skin 
constitutes what is termed corpulence or ohesity. But 
it must not be supposed that in such cases the de- 
posit is limited to this situation; for it is found also 
in great abundance in internal parts; and although in 
the former situation it strikes the eye, and seems to 
the uninitiated the most important element .of the 
disease, for disease it must be called, in the latter it 
gives rise to much more inconvenience; nay, even in THE SKIN.—CORPULENCE. 
181 
some cases to very serious results, for it not only 
renders the subject of it painfully large and unwieldy, 
and diminishes very materially the power, and there- 
fore the inclination, for exertion, but it also presses 
upon, and interferes with the functions of, the inward 
parts; thus, its undue accumulation in what is popu- 
larly called the stomach (but technically the abdomen), 
by pressure upwards, prevents the free action of the 
heart and lungs, and leads, among other evils, to 
shortness of breath; while its deposit about the heart 
itself still further interrupts its functions, and may 
even paralyse it altogether. 
While, no doubt, the tendency to obesity is inherent 
in some constitutions, and in part is hereditary, a great 
deal of it is generally to be attributed to the habits of 
the individual; for let a man who is predisposed to 
fatness, sleep much, walk little, drink freely, especially 
fermented liquors, such as ale, porter, and cider, and 
eat like a glutton, especially indulging in large quan- 
tities of fatty articles of diet, or of sweet things which 
in the system are converted into fat, or of food contain- 
ing much starch, such as potatoes, which is converted 
into sugar and then into fat, and obesity is the natural 
result. 
Hence there is a good deal of truth, but not the 
whole truth, in the remark that the cure of fatness PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
consists in keeping the eyes open, the mouth shut, 
and the legs in motion. For, of the innumerable in- 
stances in which persons have attempted to reduce 
themselves by early. hours, active exercise, and a diet 
approaching to starvation, failure has been the almost 
inevitable result. The secret of success lies in the 
abstinence from fatty articles of diet, and from food 
rich in starch or sugar. This has long been known, 
though too little recognised by the medical profession. 
But, it should be remembered, the sudden adoption of 
such a regimen is, not without danger; many lamentable 
instances of which have of late years come under the 
notice of medical men. For, while it is wonderful 
how the system accommodates itself to altered circum- 
stances, the change must be gradual, or the revulsion 
will lead to disease. It is partly on this principle that 
the removal of the leg of a person who has been re- 
cently injured in the midst of health, is much more 
likely to lead to fatal results than when the operation 
is performed in consequence of old standing disease. 
But we must leave the subcutaneous cellular tissue, 
which is the deepest layer of the sensitive skin, and 
inquire for a moment into the nature of its superficial 
layer, or corium, as it is called. The latter, like the 
former, is principally composed of connective tissue, 
with this difference, that the fibres are much more THE SKIN.—CORPULENCE. 
183 
closely interwoven, so that there are no intervals filled 
with fat, and accordingly it is a much denser and less 
yielding structure than the subcutaneous cellular tis- 
sue. Its upper surface is not smooth, but marked by 
innumerable minute prominences, the “ papillae” of 
the skin, which are very important structures. It is 
freely supplied with blood-vessels and nerves, hence the 
pain and bleeding which result when it is pricked; 
and each of the papillae is furnished with a minute 
blood-vessel or nerve, or both. Those upon the inner 
surface of the hands and fingers, and also upon the 
feet, are arranged in double rows, and accordingly, on 
examining these parts, since the scarf skin takes on 
the impression of the papillae, innumerable little curved 
lines are seen separated from each other by minute 
depressions. It is in the papillae, and especially in 
those to which nervous filaments are distributed, that 
the sense of touch mainly resides. 
In most situations, and especially where there are 
hairs, the sensitive skin is furnished with very minute 
muscles (or sinews as they are popularly called), which 
are attached to the roots of the hairs, or of the oil 
glands, to which we shall refer shortly. The contrac- 
tion of these muscles has the effect of rendering the 
hairs more prominent, of making them “ stand on 
end ” under the influence of fright, and it is also tho 184 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
cause of that roughness of the skin which is observed 
under the influence of cold and the like, and which 
is termed goose-shin. 
All persons are familiar with the blisters, as they 
are improperly called, which are raised by the sting 
of the nettle; and too many are acquainted with a 
similar eruption which resembles the sting of the 
nettle, and which is therefore termed nettle-rash. 
Now it has been found very difficult to explain this 
peculiar appearance, owing to the suddenness with 
which it comes and the rapidity with which it goes; 
but it appears to the writer that if we attribute it to 
a spasmodic contraction of the muscles of the skin, 
not only may the appearance which it presents, but 
also the suddenness of its rise and fall, be satisfactorily 
accounted for. 
We .have seen that the sensitive skin is composed 
almost exclusively of fibres, and contains innumerable 
little blood-vessels and nerves; whereas the scarf skin, 
which forms a covering to the former, contains neither 
fibres, blood-vessels, nor nerves, but is almost entirely 
made up of an endless number of little plates or scales 
(lepithelial scales), which are soldered together so as 
to form a uniform structure. (Fig. 2.) The plates 
composing the upper layer are quite flattened, very 
closely packed, and to a certain extent, especially in THE SHIN-CORPULENCE. 
185 
some situations, almost horny in consistence, so as 
to give protection to the deeper-seated sensitive parts; 
while the cells composing the lower layer are arranged 
more loosely, and instead of lying flat have a vertical 
direction. The under surface of the scarf skin is not 
smooth, hut marked hy little depressions, into which 
the pap ill as of tho sensitive skin fit as the fingers 
into a glove. 
Fig. 2. 
SCALES OE WHICH THE SCARE SKIN IS COMPOSED. 
The division of the skin into two layers is justified, 
not only from the marked differences which they present 
structurally, hut also from the fact that, although closely 
united, they are not inseparable. Most of our readers 
must have seen, either on their own persons or on those 
of their friends, the effects of a common blister. The 
skin is said to rise, and a quantity of fluid, derived from 
the blood, accumulates beneath. But it is not the 
skin, only the scarf skin, which is thus raised out of 
its bed, and separated from the parts beneath. And ac- 186 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
cordingly, wlien the blister is cut [that is, the scarf skin 
removed] and the fluid escapes, the patient complains 
of pain, which is the natural result of the exposure 
to the air of the upper layer of the sensitive skin. 
The scarf skin, like the rest of the body, is con- 
tinually undergoing change and decomposition. New 
plates or scales are being constantly formed at the 
point where the scarf skin and sensitive skin meet, 
while the old scales are in like measure thrown off 
from the surface. In a state of health this takes place 
so slowly, so regularly, and so methodically, that it 
is not perceived; but it is far otherwise if inflammation 
attacks the skin. Although the scarf skin contains 
neither blood-vessels nor nerves, it is endowed with 
life, and when inflammation attacks it the scales die 
in great numbers, and are thrown off from the surface 
to such an extent that they attract attention; and this 
excessive fall of scales is termed desquamation. This 
is well illustrated by the peeling off of the skin which 
follows all attacks of scarlet fever in which the eruption 
has been distinct. Most persons, too, are familiar with 
what is popularly termed scurf of the head, and which 
follows even slight inflammation of the scalp, resulting 
from impairment of the general health, or the like. 
The use of soaps is governed more by scientific 
principles than is generally believed; for all soaps con- THE SKIN—CORPULENCE. 
tain an alkali (usually soda), wliile tlie scarf skin is 
chiefly composed of albumen, a substance which is 
readily acted upon by alkalies. The soap thus softens, 
dissolves, and removes the superficial layers of the scarf 
skin, and with them the dirt which has accumulated. 
Much ignorance prevails amongst the public as to the 
use of soap and water. It is possible to carry every- 
thing to excess, and physicians occasionally witness a 
superficial irritation of the hands and face, as the 
result of the too frequent use of soap and water, or of 
water alone. Those who have very sensitive skins 
should use soft water, for the face at all events; and 
the best water, if it can be had, is rain water with the 
cold taken off it. Nor is it every kind of soap which 
is tolerated by such persons. Thus, what is called blade 
soap is one of the most irritating of all j while probably 
the safest soaps are, not those which are said to contain, 
but those which really do contain, a large proportion 
of glycerine. 
In an interesting article, entitled “ Longevity and 
Centenarianism,” in the Quarterly Review, the following 
remarks occur: “ Records and experience concur in 
furnishing cases of great tenacity of life under the most 
directly opposite conditions. Men have lived beyond 
a hundred years without walking more than a hundred 
yards a day, from house to office and back. No! it PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
depends not on exercise, nor yet, if we dare breathe 
it in an age wholly given to ‘ tubbing/ on frequent 
ablutions or strict cleanliness. Witness ‘Lady Lewson/ 
to whose peculiar views on this topic a cutting short of 
her days cannot be objected. Witness Elizabeth 
Durieux, a woman of Savoy, whom a writer in Notes and 
Queries saw when she was 119 years old, bony, large- 
limbed, wrinkled, and very dirty.,} Witness, as a nation, 
the Icelanders, of whom a Quarterly Eeviewer says that 
“though very uncleanly, and suffering much from skin 
diseases, and leprosy particularly, their average longevity 
exceeds Jhat of the continental nations of Europe.” 
Are we, then, to infer from the preceding remarks, 
that cleanliness is injurious to health ? It is almost 
unnecessary to answer in the negative, for the cases 
alluded to are undoubtedly exceptional; the longevity, 
owing to peculiarities of constitution, climate, and the 
like, being attained in spite of dirtiness of habits. The 
irritation of the skin, too, which sometimes follows the 
use of soap and water, is due, not to regular and sys- 
tematic, but to constant and excessive, ablution. 
It must never be forgotten that the body is constantly 
changing, the old tissues being replaced by new ones, 
and one of the most important functions of the skin 
is to assist in the removal of the effete matter from the 
system. If, however, strict cleanliness is not observed. THE SKIN—CORPULENCE. 
189 
tlie pores of tlie skin, through which this is accom- 
plished, become clicked up, and tke evil result in tlie 
long run to the general health cannot be doubted. 
The account of the scarf skin would be imperfect 
were we to omit allusion to those innumerable little 
coloured particles (pigment granules) which lie em- 
bedded in the cells of its deepest layer, and to which 
the variations in the tint of different skins is due. Most 
of our readers have probably at some time or other 
seen an albino; that is, a person with colourless skin, 
white hair, and red eyes. Now this peculiar and strik- 
ing appearance is entirely dependent upon the fact that 
the skin and other structures are devoid of the usual 
pigment granules. This condition is observed at birth 
and continues throughout life, but no satisfactory ex- 
planation can be given of the reason for its occurrence. 
Again, the dark colour of the brunette, as compared 
with the blonde, is due to the darker colour of the 
pigment in the former, as compared with the latter; 
while the colour of the negro is owing to the pigment 
granules being nearly black. Some persons are born 
with brown patches on different parts of the body—. 
moles, as they are called; while others exhibit a pecu- 
liar distribution of the pigment of the skin, that is to 
say, it is altogether absent at some, parts, while at others 
it is excessive, so that patches of colourless skin are 190 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
surrounded by others of a dark colour, and if the head 
is implicated in the disease, the hair proceeding from 
the colourless parts is white. This deformity, which 
is termed vitiligo, is sufficiently striking amongst the 
white races; but in the negro the appearance, as may 
be imagined, is exceedingly remarkable, and he is 
commonly called a pied-negro. 
The late Dr. Addison was the first to direct attention 
to a peculiar discolouration of the skin occurring in 
connection with disease of an internal organ,* and 
called Addison’s disease in honour of its discoverer. 
This discolouration is dependent upon the deposit in 
the skin of an excessive quantity of pigment, and may 
implicate only portions of the skin, or the whole of it, 
in which case the patient resembles a mulatto, or a 
bronze statue the gloss of which has been removed. 
The occurrence of this discolouration in connection with 
an internal malady is worth noting, as being a good 
illustration of that sympathy which, through the in- 
fluence of the nervous system, exists between organs 
remote from one another. 
Light and heat, and especially the latter, have a 
powerful influence upon the deposit of pigment; 
* Of certain little bodies attacked to the kidneys, and called the 
“ supra-renal capsules.” THE SKIN.-CORPULENCE. 
191 
indeed, it is favoured by anything which tends to 
increase the amount of blood in the skin; hence the 
brown colour of the exposed parts in some persons 
during the summer months, and the freckles which 
disfigure the face so much in others. And most persons 
must have observed the brown mark which is sometimes 
left after powerful stimulation of the skin, as for ex- 
ample after the application of a mustard poultice or a 
blister, and which is dependent upon the same cause. 
The nails are mere modifications of the scarf skin, 
their horny appearance and feeling being due to the 
fact that the scales or plates of which they are composed 
are much harder and more closely packed. The root 
of the nail lies embedded, to the extent of about the 
twelfth part of an inch, in a fold of the sensitive skin, 
and as may be observed from an inspection of the part, 
the scarf skin is not exactly continuous with the nail, 
but projects a little above it, forming a narrow margin, 
(Fig. 3.) 
The nail, like the scarf skin, rests upon, and is in- 
timately connected with, a structure almost identical 
with the sensitive skin; this is, however, thrown into 
ridges, which run parallel to one another, except at the 
back part, where they radiate from the centre of the 
root. (Fig. 4.) On examining the surface of the nail, 
a semicircular whitish portion is detected near its root. PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
which is dependent upon the fact that the ridges there 
contain fewer blood-vessels, and therefore less blood, 
Fig. 3. 
SECTION THROUGH THE NAIL AND ITS BED, ALONG THE FINGER. 
a. Hoot of nail. b. Body of nail. c. Free end of nail. d. Skin of tip 
of finger, e. Skin of back of finger. /. Scarf skin on upper surface of 
nail at its root, g, h. Bed of nail. 
and on account of its half-moon shape it is called the 
lunula. 
The nail is constantly increasing in length owing 
Fig. 4. 
SECTION OF THE NAIL AND ITS BED, ACROSS. 
a. Nail. b. Its bed. c. The skin overlapping the nail at the sides. 
to the formation of new cells at the .root, which push THE SKIN.—CORPULENCE. 
193 
it forwards, wliile the increase in its thickness is due 
to the secretion of new cells from the sensitive layer 
beneath, so that the farther the nail grows from the 
root, the thicker it becomes. Its nutrition, and con- 
sequently its growth, suffers in disease, the portion 
growing during disease being thinner than that growing 
in health; and accordingly a transverse groove is seen 
upon the nail, corresponding to the time of an illness. 
It will thus be seen that by a mere examination of the 
nail we can astonish our friends by telling them when they 
have been ill; and it has been estimated that the nail 
of the thumb grows from its root to its free extremity 
in five months, that of the great toe in twenty months, so 
that a transverse groove in the middle of the former 
indicates an illness about two and a half months before, 
and in the middle of the latter, about ten months. 
The culture of the nails, which when perfect con- 
stitute so great a beauty, although their neglect is not 
so deleterious as in the case of the skin, is of much 
importance; but the tendency is to injure them by 
too much attention. The scissors should never be used 
except to pare the free edges when they have become 
ragged or too long, and the folds of scarf skin which 
overlap the roots should not, as a rule, be touched, 
unless they be frayed, when the torn edges may be 
snipped off, so as to prevent their being torn further 194 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
which may cause much pain, and even inflammation. 
The upper surfaces of the nails should on no account 
"be touched with the knife, as is so often done, the 
nail brush being amply sufficient to keep them clean, 
without impairing their smooth and polished surfaces. 
In the feet, the nails or their beds are often the seats 
of disease, much of which is due to the use of ill-fitting 
and especially tight shoes—as, for example, in the case 
of the so-called <e ingrowing toe-nails,” while ulceration 
beneath the nail is a very common and exceedingly 
painful affection, for the cure of which it is often 
necessary to remove it altogether; for the nail presses 
upon and irritates the sore beneath, and prevents it 
from healing. In some cases, too, a low form of veget- 
able life takes root, grows between the nail and its 
root, and injures it very much, or even causes it to fall 
off. There are many others diseases of these parts, to 
which, however, our space will not permit us to refer. 
On all parts of the body provided with hair, the 
skin is the seat of innumerable minute depressions 
(hair-sacs), from which the hair grows. (Fig- 5.) 
At the bottom of each sac is a little elevation, termed 
the papilla, which is almost identical in structure with 
the papillae of the skin, to which we have already re- 
ferred. It is from the papilla that the hair draws 
its nourishment, and from which the new hair grows THE SKIN.—CORPULENCE. 
when the old one has fallen out or been extracted. 
There is a very common belief, which is shared by many 
HAIR AND HAIR-SAC. 
a. Hair shaft. &. Root of the hair. c. Bulb of the hair. d. Hair-sao. 
i. Papilla of hair. e. Reflection inwards of the skin at the aperture of 
the hair-sacs. k. Ducts of the sebaceous glands. 
medical men, that if the hair is extracted it will never 196 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
grow again. Were such the case, it would certainly 
he a great boon to those who are troubled with super- 
fluous hair. But, unfortunately for them, not only does 
the hair reappear after extraction, but it tends to grow 
stronger than before, and, within certain limits, the 
oftener the operation is repeated, the greater is its 
strength and luxuriance. The reason of this is obvious. 
The extraction of the hair irritates the papilla, and causes 
a rush of blood to it, so that extra nutriment is pro- 
vided for the growth of the succeeding hair. 
An examination of the hair with the microscope 
reveals to us the fact that it is chiefly composed of 
fibres, closely packed together, and that each is en- 
veloped in a thin skin or cuticle, composed of square- 
shaped cells, while many of the hairs—the white and 
coarse ones in particular—are marked by a central 
streak, called the medulla, corresponding to the pith 
in the stems of plants, and which is also composed of 
cells. Scattered here and there over the hair, a number 
of dark streaks and spots are usually to be seen, com- 
posed partly of air-cells, but principally of pigment, 
such as we find in the skin itself; and it is to the 
varying quantity and tint of this pigment that the 
differences in colour of the hair in different persons, 
and on different parts of the body, are mainly to be 
attributed. We know that the hair has a tendency THE SKIN.—CORPULENCE. 
197 
to vary in colour at different periods of life j that it 
is darker, as a rule, in the adult than in the infant, and 
that its silver-grey colour is one of the ornaments of 
age, although some persons are foolish enough, from 
a desire to appear younger than they really are, to 
disfigure themselves by the use of wigs, which are 
both unseemly and unsuitable. The source of these 
changes is to be found in the increasing quantity and 
deepening colour of the pigment granules as adult life 
is approached, and in its diminution and ultimate dis- 
appearance in old age. Most of our readers have pro- 
bably heard of cases in which, under the influence of 
violent emotion, such as sudden fear or intense grief, 
the hair has turned grey in a single night, but much 
scepticism exists as to the possibility of such an occur- 
rence. While, however, such cases are certainly rare, 
it is an undoubted fact that they do occur, and that 
they are not the mere offsprings of a lively imagination. 
And a very curious circumstance has been discovered 
with regard to them, namely, that the change of colour 
is not dependent upon the disappearance of the pigment 
of the hair, which can only take place slowly, but upon 
the sudden development in its interior of a number of 
air-bubbles, that hide and destroy the effect of the 
pigment, which remains unaltered. One or two such 
cases may be mentioned. PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Ludwig Harenburg had long been intemperate in his 
habits, in consequence of which he was seized with 
delirium tremens. The delirium, as is usual in such 
cases, was of a very terrifying nature, and it was speci- 
ally noticed that the entrance into his room of any one 
who was unknown to him agitated him, and made him 
tremble from head to foot for two or three minutes. 
The delirium had lasted four days. On the evening of 
the fourth day the hair was unaltered, but on the morn- 
ing of the fifth the delirium had disappeared, and his 
hair, which previously was fair, had become grey. It 
was examined with the microscope, when it was found 
that the pigment was still present, but that the central 
streak of each was filled with air-bubbles. (Virchow’s 
Archiv, 1866, p. 589.) 
A young Swiss, armed with a sabre, suspended 
himself over a precipice by means of a rope, in order 
to secure some young vultures in their nest. While 
in the act of taking them, he was attacked 'by the 
mother, and used his sabre freely to protect himself. 
When the encounter was over, on looking up he found 
that he had nearly severed the rope which supported 
him. He almost died of fear, for a yawning precipice 
was beneath him. Fortunately the rope was strong 
enough to support him, but by the time he reached 
the summit his hair had turned grey. THE SKIN—CORPULENCE. 
199 
One other case, which is related in a work by a 
celebrated physician, Daniel Turner, now no more, may 
be added. Don Diego Osorius, a Spaniard, of a noble 
family, being in love with a young lady of the Court, 
had prevailed with her for a private conference, under 
the shady boughs of a tree, within the garden of the 
King of Spain; but by the unfortunate barking of a 
little dog, their privacy was betrayed, the young gentle- 
man seized by some of the king’s guard, and im- 
prisoned; it was a capital offence to be found in that 
place, and therefore he was condemned to die. He 
was so terrified at the hearing of his sentence, that one 
and the same night saw the same person young and 
old, his hair having been turned grey as in those 
stricken in years. The gaoler, moved at the sight, 
related the incident to King Ferdinand, as a prodigy, 
who thereupon pardoned him, saying he had been 
sufficiently punished for his fault. 
In a state of health, the hair, when it has grown to 
a certain length, falls out; but this shedding of the 
hair is such a slow process, that it produces no de- 
formity, and almost passes unobserved. It is far dif- 
ferent, however, when the health is reduced, as after 
a fever, for then it falls away in such abundance as 
to produce well-marked thinning of the hair, and to 
cause much uneasiness. Such a condition is not to 200 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
be neglected, partly because of the deformity which 
but mainly because it indicates that the general 
health is in an unsatisfactory state. Again, many 
persons must have seen cases in which the hair has 
a tendency to fall away in certain parts, leaving round 
bald patches; and instances are known to the writer, 
of the successive implication of different portions of 
the hair, until not a single hair was left upon any part 
of the body. It is supposed by some that this disease 
is dependent upon a minute plant which eats away the 
hair; but the most recent investigations tend to show 
that it is not so, but that there is some peculiar alter- 
ation of the nerves of the affected portions of the skin. 
There are certain diseases of the hair, however, which 
are undoubtedly due to the implantation and germin- 
ation of minute fungi, of which we have a good illus- 
tration in the disease too well known under the name 
of ringworm of the head; and it is this circumstance 
which imparts to it its contagious quality. (Fig. 6.) 
This minute growth not only eats into the portion of 
hair which is above the surface, and causes it to break, 
but also finds its way into the root; and hence the 
difficulty of reaching it with remedial agents, and the 
obstinacy of the complaint in certain cases. 
The skin is provided with innumerable little glands, 
the sweat glands (or perspiratory glands), and the oil THE SKIN.—CORPULENCE. 
201 
glands (sebaceous glands), as they are called. The 
former (Fig. 1, e}f) are little tubes, the walls of which 
HAIR FROM A CASE OF RINGWORM OF THE HEAD LOADED WITH AND BROKEN 
DP BY THE SPORES OF A FUNGOUS GROWTH. 202 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
are similar in structure to the layers of which the skin 
is composed. The orifices of these glands, the pores 
of the skin, are oblique, because the little tubes in their 
passage through the scarf skin have a spiral form; 
in the sensitive skin they lose this spiral form in great 
measure, but terminate in little coils of tubing in its 
deepest layers. The whole length of each tube has 
been estimated at a quarter of an inch, and the whole 
number of tubes in an adult at more than two millions ; 
so that, if it were possible to place them end to end, 
they would reach to the extent of nearly ten miles. 
The perspiration is composed almost exclusively of 
water, of which more than two pounds are discharged 
in the day. This fact is sufficiently striking to warn 
persons of the danger of allowing the pores of the 
skin to be closed from want of cleanliness. 
In health, in a state of quiescence, the skin is com- 
paratively dry, for the moisture passes off in the shape 
of vapour as soon as it is discharged; hence the term 
insensible perspiration has been applied to it. But when 
the circulation is unusually excited, under the influence 
of exertion or of heat, or when the patient is extremely 
weak, as in consumption, the little glands secrete pro- 
fusely, and the skin is moist; and to this the term 
sensible perspiration has been given. The secretion of 
these glands, like that of the other organs and tissues THE SKIN.—CORPULENCE. 
203 
of the body, is under the influence of the nervous 
system; hence, in cases of violent emotion, such as 
sudden fear, we break into a profuse perspiration. 
Hence the sympathy which exists between the skin 
and the other excreting organs, there being a balance 
of function between them; so that, when the skin is 
secreting freely, the internal excretions are diminished, 
and vice versa. 
It must not, however, be supposed that the skin is 
an organ of excretion only, for it is endowed with a 
considerable amount of power of absorption. It is on 
this account that a certain degree of relief from thirst 
has been experienced by shipwrecked mariners from 
the immersion of their clothing in salt water; and 
that when physicians desire to keep the stomach at rest 
for a number of consecutive hours, they sometimes 
envelop the limbs in wet bandages. Many persons, 
too, are familiar with the application to the skin of 
a belladonna plaster for the relief of pain; yet it is 
not generally know that the absorption of medicines 
by the skin has been carried to such an extent as to 
produce serious symptoms of poisoning. The scarf skin, 
however, very materially interferes with the process 
of absorption, and accordingly, when a speedy effect 
is desired, a portion of the cuticle is frequently removed 
by means of a blister, and medicines applied to the 204 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
raw surface of the sensitive skin, which absorbs them 
with great rapidity, so that much care is required in 
this mode of administering drugs. 
SEBACEOUS GRANDS EBOM THE NOSE SURROUNDING (6) A HAIR-SAO. 
The oil glands are distributed over the greater por- 
tion of the skin, but they are far more abundant in 
hairy parts. The ducts of these glands are similar 
in structure to the tubes of the sweat glands, but they THE SKIN—CORPULENCE. 
205 
are broader, and most of them open into tbe hair-sacs 
instead of communicating directly with the surface. 
The little glands themselves vary very much in cha- 
racter, many of them being simple dilatations of the 
extremities of the ducts, while others are divided into 
several little sacs, as in the accompanying illustration 
(Fig. 7). These glands secrete an oily substance, thus 
ridding the system of certain noxious elements, while 
at the same time, the surface of the skin is protected 
from the air, and the injurious effects which might 
otherwise be expected to arise from the rubbing against 
one another of neighbouring folds. of skin are pre- 
vented. 
An examination of the secretion squeezed out of the 
oil glands has proved that they often contain a minute 
parasite, which is supposed to serve some useful purpose, 
such as the stimulation of the glands, or the consump- 
tion of a portion of their secretion. At all events, they 
are found in persons whose health is perfect, and do not 
give rise to the slightest inconvenience; but it is by 
no means certain, as some have asserted, that they 
are to be found in the glands of all persons. 
It not unfrequently happens that the secretion hardens, 
accumulates in and distends the ducts, especially in 
the faces of young persons; and as the secretion at 
the orifice of each attracts the particles of dust which PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
are floating about, a number of black specks are to 
be detected,, which must be familiar to all our readers. 
And if a watcb-kej be pressed firmly against the skin, 
being so placed tliat the hollow of the key corresponds 
to one of the black specks, the secretion is tilted up 
and appears in the shape of a worm-like process, being 
an accurate mould of the duct from which it has been 
expressed. The prolonged retention of hardened se- 
baceous matter in the glands is very apt to irritate 
and inflame the surrounding parts, and to give rise 
to the disease called acne. 
Instead of the ducts of the glands, the glands them- 
selves may become distended with their secretion, 
and then, there being no contact of the secretion with 
the air, there are no black specks ; but the appearance 
presented is that of little pearly points, owing to the 
sebaceous matter shining through the distended skin. 
This is a condition often met with in the eyelids and 
face, and is termed milium by scientific men. 
Lastly, the secretion from the glands may be excessive 
—may diffuse itself in undue quantity over the skin, 
and is very apt, especially on the head, to dry up into 
yellowish scales, such as we often see in infants, and 
to be mistaken for inflammation. For all these con- 
ditions, it is well to seek medical advice. VIII. 
THE BATE—TEE SENSE OF TOUGH. 
In tlie last chapter we gave a short account of the 
structure and general use of the skin, but there remain 
one or two points, more or less connected with this 
portion of our frame, which deserve a few further re- 
marks. Of these, we may take first the use and abuse 
of bathing. 
Bathing has two objects: to purify and to strengthen. 
These are intimately connected, since nothing tends 
more to enervate than contamination of the fluids 
which circulate within the body, and to remove super- 
fluous or worn-out substances is a direct way to im- 
part vigour to all the organs; but it is not in this 
way alone that bathing strengthens. By virtue of the 
change of temperature a cold bath implies, it acts, as 
is well known, upon the nervous system, and calls out, 
in answer to the temporary abstraction of heat, a freer 
t 
play of the general vital powers. 
Of the bath as designed for ordinary purposes of 
cleanliness, there need not much be said. The whole 
surface of the body should be daily washed; but the 
daily use of soap need not be considered necessary. 208 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
except for those portions of the body which are spe- 
cially exposed. For the general surface the use of soap 
twice a week fulfills the demands of cleanliness, unless 
in special occupations. Warm water, as is well known, 
cleanses much more effectually than cold. 
The Turkish bath, lately re-introduced with high 
commendations into this country, has its chief use as 
a means of thorough cleansing. Not, indeed, that by 
it, as some of its too enthusiastic advocates have im- 
plied, every kind of morbid agent can be washed out 
of the blood. Diseases cannot be filtered away through 
the sweat-glands. Still, by the profuse perspiration 
which the high temperature induces, aided by the 
drinking of a few tumblers of water, a great deal of 
highly objectionable matter may be got rid of. Per- 
sons with weak hearts should be careful how they have 
recourse to the Turkish bath, although in some cases 
otherwise adapted, and under careful medical super- 
vision, persons suffering from confirmed heart-disease 
have derived the greatest benefit from its use. But 
for all other persons an occasional recourse to it is a 
legitimate luxury, and for some a decided advantage. 
The temperature of the heated air, however, should 
not exceed 150°, except under medical advice, or after 
careful trial. If exhilaration and a feeling of increased 
lightness and proneness to exertion follow, benefit has THE BATH.—THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 
209 
been gained; if lassitude and exhaustion, the bath is 
unsuitable, or its duration or temperature should be 
diminished. 
The free perspiration induced by the Turkish bath, 
judiciously taken, is in most cases beneficial; but it 
should not be supposed that there is any special virtue 
in this particular means of inducing it. Active ex- 
ercise is a better one for all persons who can take it; 
and a walk or a game, which within the bounds of 
moderate fatigue produces a copious secretion from 
the skin, and on which no chill is allowed to super- 
vene, does fully as much to eliminate ill materials from 
the blood, as the most sedulous votary of the Turkish 
bath can attain. The latter, indeed, regarded as a 
means of health, may be looked upon most justly as 
a kind of substitute for bodily exertion, when this is 
unattainable through lack of strength or time—a sub- 
stitute, that is, in this one respect, but by no means 
in all, for exercise does much more for us than merely 
carry off fluid through the skin. 
The Turkish bath accordingly is most suitable for 
those who, from unavoidable causes, are compelled to 
lead sedentary lives, especially if they suffer from want 
of sufficient activity of the secreting organs. To them 
it affords a partial supplement for more natural and 
effective sources of invigoration. It is useful also for 210 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
those to whom the free use of cold water without 
previous warmth is too severe a shock, the high tem- 
perature drawing the blood freely to the surface of 
the body, and so preparing it to receive with advantage 
the cold affusion with which the bath concludes. For 
the principle on which cold succeeds warmth in the 
Turkish bath—and it is one which all bathers should 
bear in mind, as it determines whether the practice is 
beneficial or the reverse—is this, that the circulation 
in the skin should be vigorous, and the temperature 
accordingly warm, so that its temporary depression 
from the cold may be followed by a vigorous reaction. 
This is, indeed, the criterion of the influence of a cold 
bath; whether it leaves behind it a pleasant glow upon 
the surface, or a feeling of chilliness : if the former, it 
invigorates; if the latter, it enfeebles. In this respect a 
great deal depends upon the time that is passed in 
the water. There are few persons who are not warmed 
by a single plunge; still fewer who are not chilled, 
and therefore injured, by a prolonged stay. On an 
average, three minutes should suffice, except for those 
who are inured to the practice, and unless the weather 
is very warm. For active swimming in the sea, ten 
minutes may be taken. 
The glow which follows a cold bath, is the chief 
secret of its tonic influence. It arises from the blood THE BATH.—THE SENSE OF TOUCH 
211 
returning in a larger stream to the surface, from which 
it had been partially banished; and it has these two 
good effects: it is a safeguard against chills, through 
the increased supply of- blood to the external parts, 
and. for the same reason it wards off internal conges- 
tions and other disturbances of the circulation. And 
besides this effect upon the blood-vessels, it adds another 
to those natural stimulants of the sensitive nerves, on 
which, as we have before observed, the healthy tone 
of the nervous system so much depends. All these 
good effects are much aided by vigorous friction with 
a flesh-brush or rough towel, applied as rapidly as may 
be. It is bad to let the surface continue wet after 
leaving: the water. 
O 
The best time for prolonged bathing is the forenoon, 
say two or three hours after breakfast; but for a sim- 
ple plunge no time is better than immediately on rising. 
The skin is warm on quitting the bed, and in a good 
state to receive the shock. The cold bath should not 
follow immediately on a meal, because the blood should 
not then be drawn too strongly to the surface, it being 
required for the work of digestion. 
The question has been a good deal discussed, whether 
a cold bath should immediately follow a walk or other 
exercise; and an opinion to the contrary has widely 
prevailed, backed by certain stories, which, however. 212 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
are probably incomplete in some of tbeir details. Ac- 
cordingly it is much the custom after exercise to wait 
until the body becomes cool, before bathing; and in 
some schools it is made the business of a master to 
see that no boy enters the water in a state of perspira- 
tion. This opinion and practice, however, appear to 
be ill-founded. If evil effects have resulted from bath- 
ing after exertion, it has been not because the body 
was hot, but because its powers were exhausted by 
fatigue. Under such circumstances the danger of a 
cold bath is not diminished, but increased, by waiting 
until the heightened temperature has passed away. 
The power of reaction, from the weakness of which 
the danger arises, is thereby only rendered still more 
feeble. The proper rule is, that cold bathing should 
never be had recourse to after great fatigue, whether 
we be heated or not, but, under all circumstances, it 
is better to encounter it warm than cold; and there 
is no better preparation for it than a moderate walk, 
sufficient to induce a slightly heightened temperature. 
Thus employed, a daily cold bath is a safe tonic for 
almost all persons during the summer months, and 
tends especially to jestore the appetite when it has 
been lost. 
Some persons of heroic mould persist in a cold 
plunge throughout the year, and regularly break the THE BATH.—THE' SENSE OF TOUCH. 
213 
ice whenever the frost is severe. Of this practice we 
can only say that it seems to be good for those who 
are strong enough to bear it, but such • persons un- 
doubtedly are few. The luxury is attended with risks, 
and should never be persisted in if a feeling of warmth 
does not immediately succeed it. 
The shower bath has some advantages over the 
plunge; the stimulus to the nerves of the skin is 
greater, the abstraction of heat somewhat less. It is 
useful, therefore, to certain nervous temperaments; but 
some precautions are advisable if there is any lack of 
strength. It is a good plan, for instance, to stand in 
a pan of warm water to prevent the feet from being 
chilled, or in some cases to protect the head by an 
oil-skin cap. It is indeed often desirable not to apply 
cold water too freely to the head; and many persons 
who derive great advantage from cold bathing find it 
advisable to use tepid water for the head. This seems 
to be especially the case with those who are subject to 
great mental labour, and who sometimes increase the 
nervous distress to which they are subject by an un- 
wise use of cold water for its relief. But bathing the 
face with cold water is often a great refreshment during 
mental strain, and nothing calms the sleeplessness 
which results from excitement better than its free ap- 
plication to the face and neck. 214 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
It does not appear that washing the head with tepid 
instead of cold water, or the use of tepid baths, in- 
creases, as might perhaps have been thought likely, 
the liability to colds. As a rule, it may be said that 
water which, although tepid,, is decidedly below the 
natural heat of the skin, so as to give a feeling of 
coldness, has a bracing—that which feels warm, a re- 
laxing—effect. The use first of warm and then of cold 
water has an excellent influence, and is admirably adapt- 
ed for those who are for the time too weak to bear 
cold alone; but they should succeed each other imme- 
diately, and the room should be warm. 
In bathing infants it is desirable to cover them all 
over with a shawl or flannel, and to wash them beneath 
it. With this precaution they may be washed without 
a fire in the coldest weather. And here appears a 
palpable defect in the bathing arrangements of most 
people. Till about four years old, children have a 
daily bath, then as a rule they go without it till the 
age of sixteen or so, when the wiser ones resume it 
again if they can. But what is desirable is, that the 
practice of daily bathing should be continued all through 
life; which it doubtless would be if the necessary con- 
veniences existed. In every house there should be a 
bath supplied with hot and cold water available for 
every member. THE BATH-THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 
215 
Warm baths should not be taken, except under medi- 
cal direction, oftener than about once a week. Vapour 
baths, also, are rather a remedy for disease than a 
means of health. There are many contrivances for 
giving them, of which the simplest is a hot brick 
placed in a bucket of water beneath a chair. It should 
be remembered, however, that such plans are not free 
from a risk of scalding. 
Passing now to the endowments of the skin as an 
organ of sensation, we cannot but notice their great 
variety. The skin is the seat of many senses rather 
than of one. The perception of heat and cold, for in- 
stance, is as different from the feeling of a solid body, 
as seeing is from tasting. Tickling, again, is a quite 
peculiar sensation; so also is the sensibility to pain, 
which resides in the healthy state chiefly on the surface. 
The reason for this heaping up of sensitive capacities 
in the skin, of course, is obvious in the fact that it is 
the medium through which we come directly into contact 
with external nature. All our other senses may be for 
a time unexercised; but, save in sleep, the skin gives 
us incessant information. It takes part in all our actions, 
and furnishes guidance in the attainment of every end. 
Little as we reflect upon it, it is unquestionably true 
that, so far as knowledge is concerned, we had better 216 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
lack every other organ o£ sensation than the skin. If 
we had not clear apprehensions from our touch, onr 
eyes would present to us mere illusions, words would 
have no solid meaning on which higher senses could be 
built up. It is that recognition of separate substance 
which the fingers give, that first reveals to the dawning 
consciousness of the child his own individuality; on the 
basis of that recognition of substance the eye traverses 
space, and translates a faint glimmer of light into a 
world; on that same basis the bewildering variety of 
appearances in Nature stand before the mental eye as 
an endless series of motions, fulfilling in every change 
a perfect order. 
There is scarcely any sense that the skin cannot in 
some measure supplement. Blind men by its aid have 
learnt to distinguish colours; by its aid the deaf listen 
and the dumb converse. Nay, as the case of Laura 
Bridgman proves, let a man be born into a dark and 
silent universe, eyeless and earless, cut off from every 
charm by which Nature endears herself to us, from 
every means by which humanity acquires and stores up 
its growing knowledge; yet can the sense of touch, by 
loving nurture, still give him a happy place among his 
fellows. 
The touch is indeed remarkable for the improvement 
it may receive from practice. The blind soon come to THE BATH.—THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 
217 
read with perfect ease a raised type not much larger 
than that of an ordinary large-print Bible. Saunderson, 
a professor of mathematics at Cambridge, blind from 
two years old, could distinguish genuine medals from 
counterfeits better than many good judges who possessed 
their sight. Many blind persons have become good 
sculptors; others have been famous botanists; and Dr. 
Carpenter mentions a blind friend who has so thorough 
a knowledge of shells that he takes rank with the best 
conchologists. Perhaps this great development of touch- 
power is not merely due, as in the case of the ear or 
eye, to practice; for the touch differs from these latter 
organs in this respect, that while the nerves of hearing 
and of sight are provided with an apparatus for specially 
receiving and concentrating light and sound, the nerves 
of touch are invested with a covering specially adapted 
to deaden their perceptions; namely, the outer layer 
of the skin. The sense of touch, therefore, may be 
susceptible of being rendered more acute by an alter- 
ation in this layer of scarf-shin itself, which may give 
the nerve a less impeded access to its object. 
In some aspects the touch is the fundamental sense, 
of which all the others are but modifications and de- 
velopments the motions of light and sound strike upon 
the ear and eye, so that seeing and hearing are but 
touching at a distance. Perhaps indeed there is not PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
truly the difference there seems to be; for no two 
bodies, so far as can be discovered, ever come into 
absolute contact, so that in our firmest grasp we really 
touch at a distance, and feel not substance, but only 
force. But however this may be, this simplest of the 
senses certainly yields to none of them in wonder. 
The seat of the sense of touch is in the minute 
papillae of the skin, before described. These, accord- 
ingly, are most numerous in those parts of the surface 
in which the sensibility is most acute, as on the tips 
of the fingers, the lips, the point of the tongue. On 
the palmar surface of the hand they are arranged in 
rows, and so give rise to the lines which mark this 
part of the surface. From 12,000 to 30,000 are here 
contained in a square inch. By means of a pair of 
compasses, it is easy to test the sensibility to touch of 
different parts of the body. The eyes being closed, the 
two points of the compasses are applied so as to touch 
the skin at a short distance from each other, and it is 
found' that the power of distinguishing them as two 
separate points varies very greatly with the situation. 
On the tip of the tongue they are felt as two at the 
distance of half a line; on the point of the third 
finger, at the distance of one lino; while on the back 
and the middle of the arm no clear sensation of two 
points of contact is given until they are two inches THE BATH.—THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 
219 
and a half apart. These, at least, are the average dis- 
tances, but they vary a good deal in different persons. 
If a part, such as the finger, possessed of a delicate 
tactile perception, touches another part which is less 
sensitive, such as the arm, it is the finger which feels 
the arm, not the arm the finger, unless the temperature 
of the two parts is different, for then both are felt. 
The sensations of touch also are persistent after the 
removal of their causes, like those of the other senses, 
but in still greater degree. Thus an earring may be 
felt long after it has been removed; and in a similar 
way an irritation of the skin will frequently persist 
when the cause has ceased to operate. 
In appreciating iveight, it lias been found that the 
small hairs which cover the surface greatly assist, since 
the delicacy of the perception is much diminished when 
these are shaved off. This fact favours the view that 
the peculiar hairs with which some animals, such as 
• 
the cat, are endowed, are tactile organs. 
The perception of heat and cold has a fair claim to 
be regarded as a special sense; and some facts observed 
in disease seem to indicate that there are special nerves 
devoted to it. It is certain that the sensation requires 
for its production a special nervous structure in the 
skin, for experiments have, shown that it cannot be 
excited when the skin is destroyed. Neither is it 220 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
perceived in any of the internal organs. A sense o£ 
cold or heat is felt from hot or cold substances swal- 
lowed only when the skin is affected by the change of 
temperature in the parts within. Beyond a certain 
point, heat and cold alike produce a sensation merely 
of pain. Frozen mercury and red-hot iron feel alike. 
The larger the surface involved, the more intense is 
the feeling of temperature. Water at 104 degrees 
seems less warm to one finger than water two degrees 
lower seems to the whole hand. The left hand seems 
to have usually the acutest sense of temperature. 
There is another class of sensations, those which con- 
stitute what is termed the muscular sense, or feeling of 
exertion, which are also closely connected with the 
sense of touch. This muscular sense it is that gives 
us the consciousness of the amount of effort we put 
forth in any action, and thus conveys to us the feelings 
of resistance and solidity; and, like touch, to the per- 
ft 
fection of which it is essential, it resides chiefly in the 
hand, though it is present in every part. It is, inde*ed, 
the union of this sense; in its utmost perfection, with 
nearly the most perfect sense of touch, that makes the 
hand the wonderful instrument it is. We may judge 
of the part the muscular sense plays in touch, by getting 
a friend to move one of our fingers over a smooth 
surface, while we shut our eyes. If he presses more THE BATH.—THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 
221 
firmly at one part than at another, we receive the im- 
pression of an unevenness in the surface; which we do 
not have if we exert a varying pressure ourselves. 
But besides being thus concentrated in the hand, the 
muscular sense comes into play, consciously or uncon- 
sciously, in every voluntary movement. By its teaching 
we adjust the strength we put forth to the demands 
of every action, and are able with a little experience 
to exert just so much as will suffice to attain the end. 
Through it we are able without thought to maintain 
the constant series of muscular actions by which the 
body is maintained in an upright position, and which 
could not cease for a moment without a fall. But the 
most wonderful instances of the operation of the mus- 
cular sense are seen in the muscles which adjust the ear 
and regulate the voice, so that persons with a good ear 
can reproduce with the utmost accuracy the boundless 
variety of tones, for each one of which a different kind 
or degree of muscular contraction is required. 
How entirely dependent our actions are on the 
muscular sense which guides them, is proved by some 
cases of disease, in which, though the muscular power 
remains, sensation is destroyed. In these cases there is 
an entire inability to act, unless the wanting muscular 
sense is supplied by the sight. Thus “ a patient who 
cannot feel either the contact of his foot with the 222 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
ground or the muscular effort he is making, can manage 
to stand and walk by looking at his limbs; and a woman 
who cannot feel the pressure of her child upon her 
arms can yet sustain it so long as she keeps her eyes 
fixed upon it, but no longer; the limb dropping power- 
less the moment that the eyes are withdrawn from it.” 
But it is not only in disease that our actions are es- 
sentially aided by our sight. In our ordinary move- 
ments we “lean,” as Professor Mayo said, “upon our 
eyesight as upon crutches;” and there is scarcely one 
in which the closure of the eyes does not introduce 
embarrassment, until by practice the muscular sense is 
trained to supply their place. 
Nor is it only in acting that the muscular sense and 
the eyesight co-operate. It is by the union of these 
two senses that distinct apprehensions of the world 
around us are obtained; and perceiving may be said to 
be the bringing to bear upon the object the conjoint 
powers of sight and touch. If without touch the eye 
would give us but appearances; without the aid of know- 
ledge gathered by sight, the touch would impart to us 
little definite information, and would be subject to many 
illusions; for though this sense seems to bring us more 
directly than the rest into relation with the very sub- 
stance of things, it also has its liabilities to error. 
For instance, if the second and third fingers be crossed THE BATH—THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 
223 
and a small object be placed between them, the feeling 
given is that of two distinct objects : tins feeling, no 
doubt, arises from tbe relations of tire nerves to each, 
other being altered. 
In various diseases, again, illusions of tbe sense of 
touch are present, showing that in this mode of per- 
ceiving nature, as in others, there mingles also some- 
thing from ourselves. Our feeling of solidity, for 
example, answers to our own exertion, and may be 
produced not only by solid substances, but by various 
kinds of force, as on trying to bring together the cor- 
responding poles (which repel each other) of two 
powerful magnets. We must not think that by any 
one of our senses we can penetrate the secret of the 
universe. Light itself is but a shining veil; no eye 
has seen what nature is, nor hand has felt it in its 
grasp. Perhaps it is not without significance that, in 
the sense of touch, which seems to bring us closest to 
the world around, there is interposed a special impedi- 
ment to cut us off from a contact too direct. It seems 
an image of our state—a parable engraved on each 
man’s hand, to remind him that in all that he per- 
ceives there still is something hidden; something that 
it would need a finer sense, a higher faculty than ours, 
to apprehend aright. Nor can we wonder that it should 
be so. What else does our experience of nature suggest. 224 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
but some mighty Power, betraying itself by wondrous 
flashes, but never wholly revealed ? We have examined 
—most briefly and imperfectly indeed—in previous 
papers the various organs of the senses, and have seen 
what science tells us. We have discovered structures 
most beautifully adapted for receiving mechanical and 
chemical impressions, and conveying them to a central 
organ of nerve-cells and fibres. But how does this 
explain our sensations ? What light does it cast upon 
the thrill of joy we feel in beauty, the rapture with 
which music carries us away ? These questions suggest 
one answer, and but one : that there is more in that 
which causes our sensations than we are conscious of. 
As the scarf-skin clothes and dulls the nerves, which 
could not bear, for pain, an unimpeded touch, so there 
is a darkness clothes our souls, and dims for us a glory 
too bright to bear. And therefore we see now but as 
through a glass, darkly, not only the Creator, but His 
works j and therefore in us nature’s harmony is broken. 
There is one other thought: the hand and eye—not 
each in its own sphere alone, but used together—give 
us true knowledge of material things. Even so, if man 
is to read Nature rightly, and gain but a faint glimpse 
of her true meaning, the heart and intellect, united, 
must furnish him the key. IX. 
NOTES ON PAIN. 
It can scarcely be a pleasant occupation to read about 
pain; yet there are few who have not felt it, and 
feeling it, have wished to know something of its nature, 
its cause, its object, or its treatment. Any one of 
these questions would give ample scope 'for a chapter, 
but we have designedly headed this “ Notes on Pain,” 
since it is our purpose to allude only to some of its 
more prominent characteristics. 
Pain may be due to many sources, but its most 
frequent causes seem to be an excess of blood or 
an intensity of nerve-currents, for the violent excita- 
tion of any sensation is painful, although the moderate 
excitement is pleasurable. We may, however, remark, 
that in the nervous apparatus of the organs of special 
sense—the eye, the ear, etc.—congestion, or intense 
excitement of nerve-currents, does not cause pain, but 
in the eye flashes of light, in the ear unusual noises, in 
the tongue peculiar tastes, evidence a deviation from 
the normal state. 
The tendency of protracted intellectual work to ex- 
pend force, exhaust physical power, and so induce 226 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
premature decay, is well known. Long-continued 
concentration of mind is exhausting, though it may 
seem easy and pleasant. Even pleasure itself implies 
an expenditure of blood and nerve-tissue, to the 
stinting, perhaps, of the active energies and intel- 
lectual processes. But pain is a more costly ex- 
perience than pleasure; being accompanied by excess 
of blood in the brain arising from intensity of 
nervons action and conflicting currents (both of which 
are sources of waste), it uses up vital force more rapidly 
and wastefully than muscular or intellectual work. The 
feeling of ennui or sense of failure, from unsuccessful 
effort, is akin to pain, and is very wearying and de- 
pressing. Mere excitement may detain thought and 
impress memory, but does not waste power as pain 
does. 
The mention of excitement induces us to notice in 
passing that the disappearance of pain under strong 
mental emotion is no proof that the pain itself has 
been a creation of the fancy; for a powerful emotion 
may so modify the course of the circulation, as to 
withdraw the attention from the seat of pain, and so 
relieve local congestion.* The influence of pain in 
* The following incident well illustrates the extent to which pain may 
he dependent on fancy: “A butcher was brought into a druggist’s from NOTES ON PAIN. 
227 
enfeebling tbe action of the heart is very great; and 
when tbe blood is poor and tbe circulation weak, 
tbe supply of force obtained from tbe food, and 
available for muscular or mental work, is soon ex- 
hausted, and a sense of tiredness, passing into pain, 
occurs. Pain, too, may actually arrest secretion; 
and, by allowing tbe accumulation of effete matters 
in tbe blood, may poison tbe nervous system, disturb 
tbe serenity, and confuse tbe mind. 
We have so far regarded pain as a cause of tbe 
expenditure of vital force, but pain is also a conse- 
quence of tbe faulty removal of waste products. Tbe 
pain of gout, rheumatism, ague, etc., is due to tbe 
presence in tbe blood of a material which acts as an 
irritant to tbe sentient nerves, and often continues for 
a long time after tbe removal of tbe poison. Tbe 
long continuance of pain may keep up a turgid state 
of the vessels of tbe brain and render sleep impos- 
the market-place opposite, labouring under a terrible accident. The man, 
on trying to hook up a heavy piece of meat above his head, slipped, and 
the sharp hook penetrated his arm so that he himself was suspended. 
On being examined, he was pale, almost pulseless, and expressed himself 
as suffering acute agony. The arm could not be moved without causing 
excessive pain, and in cutting off the sleeve he frequently cried out; yet 
when the arm was exposed, it was found quite uninjured, the hook having 
traversed only the sleeve of the coat! ” The sensation here was perfectly 
real, but originated in a change in the brain and nerves, instead of in the 
external senses. 228 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
sible. The nutrition or restoration of nerve-tissue, 
which ought to go on during sleep, is suspended, 
waste products accumulate, and interfere with clear- 
ness of intellect and happy activity of mind. Miserable 
restlessness and irritability are in this way engendered, 
which themselves may give rise to hypochondriasis, 
melancholia, or brain disease. 
We may notice the influence of pain on the lower 
animals, on different races of the human family, and 
on different individuals. Shakspeare says— 
“ The poor beetle that we tread upon, 
In corporal sufferance feels a pang as great 
As when a giant dies.” 
Modern discovery entitles us to offer an opinion on 
the truth of this poetic axiom. Pain, “ nature’s kind 
harbinger of mischief,” being given for wise purposes, 
acute perceptions could scarcely, in accordance with 
our enlarged views of the beneficence displayed in the 
construction of the universe, be supposed to exist in 
animals who have no power of avoiding dangers; and, 
inasmuch as, in the higher animals at least, the power 
of feeling pain exists in the brain, it is natural to infer 
that where this organ is wanting, the sensibility to 
pain would be absent too; and that, as this part of 
the nervous system becomes more perfect, the power 
of feeling pain would increase. In other words, as NOTES ON PAIN. 
229 
tlie strength, activity, and intelligence of an animal, 
hy which it can escape from pain, depend on the per- 
fection of the brain, so does the perception of torture 
depend on the condition of the same organ. Apart 
from science and theory, every-day observations show 
us that, among many of the lower animals, the feeling 
°f pain is not acutely developed. The fly seized by 
the leg will leave its limb behind, and with apparent 
unconcern wing itself away to regale on the nearest 
sweets; and of so little moment is the loss of a limb 
to a lobster, that he will throw off his claws if alarmed 
by the report of a cannon. Talking, barking, and 
grunting animals scream more when hurt than those 
that use but little language, as the horse, sheep, or 
cow. 
Not only does a difference exist in tlie sensibility to 
pain evinced by man, as compared with tlie lower 
animals, but between the various races of tbe buman 
species tbe diversity is almost as marked. ' Tbe power 
o£ bearing pain without exhibition of feeling, as culti- 
vated by tbe stoical Spartan, varies greatly in different 
persons, and in tbe same person at different times; 
and it cannot be doubted that, irrespective of relative 
fortitude, there is a real diversity in tbe nervous sus- 
ceptibilities of different persons and races of mankind. 
To some it is natural to bo loudly demonstrative, and 230 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE, 
they, perhaps without less real fortitude, cry out 
vociferously where another man, or a man of another 
nation, would not flinch. We may, on the other 
hand, often learn a lesson in resignation from the 
calm behaviour of those whose delicate organization 
must increase their susceptibility to pain, and who yet 
bear without a murmur agony the most continuous 
and excruciating. It is said of the late Sir Robert 
Peel, that his sensibility to pain was excessive3 and no 
one would accuse him of a want of fortitude. In the 
same person the sensibility to pain varies: at one time 
the application of a blister is as “ nothing 3 ” at another 
it is “ agony Not only does the organization of the 
sufferer affect his capacity for endurance, but the very 
nature of the pain itself has a considerable influence 
on the question: for some pains are more readily 
borne with equanimity than others, and this appar- 
ently quite independently of the intensity of the 
suffering. In gout, for instance, proneness to irrita- 
bility, both mental and physical, is an almost insep- 
arable symptom of the disease 3 and great indeed 
must be that man’s fortitude and power of endurance 
who can bear without exhibition of temper the height 
of the gouty paroxysm, and remain calm and uncom- 
plaining throughout the attack. The unbearable severity 
of gouty pain is such as to render every thought but NOTES ON PAIN. 
231 
of the pain impossible. A well-known barrister, who 
1S a martyr to neuralgia, while he has been perfectly 
unable to concentrate his mind on his case when 
labouring under an attack of gout, has often con- 
ducted a cause when suffering from a paroxysm of 
tic-douloureux. Although pain may be well-nigh in- 
tolerable, it is not therefore always an index of serious 
mischief ; and though so acute in gout and rheumatism, 
it is often altogether absent in far more fatal maladies. 
In consumption, for instance, it is not uncommon for 
the sufferer to be free from pain, even to the last. And 
in some rare instances the occurrence of pain may even 
be a proof of a change for the better. 
We have seen that, as was to be expected from the 
variation in their respective organisms, a distinction 
may be drawn between the susceptibility to pain of 
the lower animals and of man; that a difference in 
this particular likewise exists between two men of the 
same race—indeed, in the same man at different times, 
or under different circumstances. We may carry the 
distinction one step farther, and notice that in the 
various parts of the same body there is a different 
susceptibility to pain, a difference due to the structure 
of the organs, and the distribution of the sentient 
nerves. 
In tense unyielding tissues, as those which cover the 232 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
bones and cartilages, tlie pain from swelling caused by 
inflammation is intense, while in lax elastic parts it is 
trifling. In inflammation of the scalp, for instance, it 
is curious to observe that only where the yielding 
tissues are firmly united with the gristle of the ear, is 
pain complained of. 
The character, as well as the intensity, of pain varies, 
too, according to the structure involved. Thus, if the 
pleura covering the lungs is inflamed, the pain is 
stabbing or darting; in the conjunctiva (the membrane 
covering the eye), the pain is gritty or itching; burn- 
ing or gnawing in the lining of the stomach. Throb- 
bing pain, produced by the filling and tension of the 
arteries with each beat of the pulse, is usually indi- 
cative of inflammation, though it may occur in paralysed 
persons from weakening or diminished elasticity of the 
blood-vessels. From this cause a permanent flushing 
of the cheeks is common in palsy, just as blushing is 
due to a temporary paralysis of the nerves which con- 
trol the cutaneous circulation. 
Although, as already hinted, the existence of extreme 
pain cannot be taken as an evidence of the severity of 
a disorder,—for pain of the most acute character occurs 
often without any other evidence of disease (being itself 
the disease), and passes away, leaving no traces of altera- 
tion or change of structure in the painful part,—yet pain NOTES ON PAIN. 
233 
is of great value to the physician as a sign or symptom 
of disease, indicating to him by its situation the organ 
affected, and by its character and intensity the nature 
of the complaint. But it should be borne in mind, 
that though of real value in assisting diagnosis, pain is 
a symptom very apt to mislead. The seat of pain is 
not always that of the disorder whence it originates; 
an irritating cause may be either at the source, or along 
the course of a nerve, or at its termination, and yet 
be felt at the same spot. Tic-douloureux may be caused 
disease of the bones of the head pressing on a 
nerve where it passes through the skull. Discomfort 
in the stump of an amputated limb may be referred 
to the parts which have been removed, as in the case 
of the old sailor who constantly complained of a pain 
m the toes, though he had lost both his legs at the 
battle of Trafalgar. Pain in the knee is common in 
hip disease; in the shoulder, from disordered liver; 
in the arm, from heart affection; and in the larynx, 
from accumulation within the lungs. Pain, too, often 
occurs long after the cause to which it is due has 
passed away; and if this fact were more generally 
realized, we should be better able to avoid what is 
harmful. Muscular stiffness is often greatest two or 
three days after the exertion which gave rise to it, 
and the same is true with regard to headache arising 
o 234 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
from overwork. Still more is this the case with other 
common forms of “ sick-headaches,” which, having no 
direct and immediate relation to the food last taken, 
are confidently asserted to he entirely independent of 
the digestive organs. In searching for the cause of a 
morbid condition, we shall be less likely to be misled 
if we bear in mind that this interval (between the pain 
itself and its exciting cause) may be, especially in 
persons of feeble organization and slow circulation, 
greatly prolonged. Pain in a part, even when purely 
subjective in its origin, may produce not a semblance 
merely of actual disease, but real alteration in the 
structure, though previously healthy; for the direction 
of the attention to any organ is a cause of the deter- 
mination of blood to the part; inflammatory action 
may follow congestion, and may pass on to disor- 
ganization.* 
Internal organs, the lungs especially, sometimes 
become diseased in consequence of the habitual direc- 
tion of the consciousness to them. Not only is pain 
an active agent in the production of disease, but it is 
sometimes an actual cause of death. Its influence in 
diminishing the action of the heart is immense, pro- 
* The late Sir Benjamin Brodie recorded a number of cases of affection 
of the •joints following hysterical concentration of the mind on the part. NOTES ON PAIN. 
235 
ducing that extreme degree of depression, or collapse, 
from which the patient never rallies. When we speak 
of death from ff shock/’ it is sometimes the pain which, 
inducing the shock to the nervous system, must be 
looked upon as the destroying agent. 
Hence we are naturally led to consider the treatment 
of pain, and cannot fail to see the importance of sound 
views as to its origin and nature. If pain were duo 
to an “ excess of life/’ then it might be a right practice 
to attack it with lowering remedies; but since it is 
really dependent on deterioration of the vital pro- 
cesses, our aim must be to restore rather than to de- 
stroy, to build up rather than to pull down. 
On the first suggestion of pain, our impulse is at 
once to fly to the nearest remedy; that which shall the 
most speedily and effectually secure to us the much- 
desired relief. It may be interesting to point out the 
action of some of the means usually adopted to attain 
this end; and a word of warning against their abuse 
may not be out of place. 
The power of tea and coffee in relieving nerve pain 
is particularly striking; and the influence of quinine 
and strychnine is, in a certain sense, analogous. The 
former, as well as the latter class, of remedies, may be 
taken in poisonous doses. Brandy and other powerful 
stimulants often act by a sort of revulsive influence. 236 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Since one form of disease may counterbalance and 
counteract another, it is sometimes justifiable to de- 
velop an artificial source of disturbance, and it is 
upon this principle that blisters, setons, and issues, 
etc., act. 
Chloroform, like cold or galvanism, causes contraction 
of vessels, renders the brain pale, and thus destroys 
consciousness. Narcotics, opium, tobacco, and the like, 
retard oxygenation, and check vital processes. Local 
anaesthetics, as ice, or aether spray, by freezing the 
part to be operated upon, deaden its sensibility; and 
though thus annihilating pain, they yet leave the 
patient fully conscious, and alive to the feelings of 
horror consequent upon his seeing the operation in 
progress. Other means of temporarily destroying the 
sensibility of the nerves to pain there are, such as 
opiates taken internally, or syringed under the skin of 
the painful part, and they are of great value. But it 
must be borne in mind that the removal of pain is not 
necessarily the removal of the disease. 
The deadening of pain by opiates may gain for the 
doctor the delightful applause of the sufferer, although 
not unfrequently the benumbing of sensation is the 
first step in the course of hopeless retrogression. It 
is this benumbing influence of sedatives which make 
them often so injurious; they induce an artificial calm. NOTES ON PAIN. 
237 
and say u Peace, peace, when there is no peace.” It is 
as unwise thus to silence the voice of nature, as to 
deal heedlessly with the complaints of the body. By a 
merciful provision, it frequently happens that nature 
herself supplies the means whereby the sufferer is 
enabled to bear up though enduring the most racking 
pain. Under the influence of intense excitement, or 
mental emotion, the balance of the nervous system is 
sometimes so completely destroyed, that during great 
injury of sensitive structures no pain is experienced. 
This absence of pain after wounds, which would other- 
wise entail suffering of the most intense character, is 
often remarked upon the field of battle. Dr. Living- 
stone’s account of his rencontre with the lion, when 
his arm was fractured, illustrates this fact: he writes, 
“ I saw the lion in the act of springing on me. I was 
on a little height; he caught my shoulder as he sprang, 
and we both came to the ground below together. 
Growling horribly close to my ear, he shook me as a 
terrier dog does a rat. The shock produced a stupor 
like that which seems to fall on a mouse after the first 
shake of the cat. It caused a sort of dreaminess, in 
which there was no sense of pain nor feeling of terror, 
though I was quite conscious of all that was happening. 
It was like what patients partially under the influence of 
chloroform describe, who see all the operation, but feel PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
no knife. This singular condition was not the result 
of any mental process. The shake annihilated fear, and 
allowed no sense of horror in looking round at the 
beast.” This peculiar state is probably felt in all 
animals killed by the carnivora; aud if so, is a merciful 
provision by our benevolent Creator, for lessening the 
pain of death. 
Livingstone remarks that, “ besides crushing the 
shoulder-bone into splinters, he left eleven teeth wounds 
in the upper part of my arm,”—a wound which, but for 
the fascination described, must have been an acutely 
painful one. 
At a recent railway accident, such was the excite- 
ment of the moment, that a gentleman, five of whose 
ribs were broken, was observed to disentangle himself 
from the broken carriage, lift his wife, by no means a 
“ light weight,” and lay her on the embankment, 
ignorant of the injury he himself had sustained; whilst 
a little boy, whose leg was badly broken, crept through 
the broken window, and trying to walk, found he could 
not stand, for his leg was “limp like a dolfis.” 
Not only is the cessation of pain in acute disease 
often a sign of ill-omen, but the absence of pain in 
disorders which are usually intensely painful—pleurisy, 
for example—is frequently a serious evil; partly, no 
doubt, because the malady may thus run its course NOTES ON PAIN. 
239 
unobserved, without any steps being taken to check 
it. When the natural sensitiveness of a part becomes 
destroyed, disease often progresses, with great rapidity. 
some kinds of paralysis a particle of dust falling 
on the eye gives rise to no sensation of grittiness or 
pain, as would be the case in a healthy condition, but 
sets up irritation, which frequently results in the de- 
struction of the organ. In paralysis,* again, one posi- 
tion is often retained until the vitality of the part is 
weakened, and thus “bed-sores” form; whilst in health 
a sensation of discomfort leads us at once to shift our 
position, and this almost without our noticing the dis- 
comfort, or the change of posture. Between discomfort 
and pain we can draw no line, the one passing insens- 
ibly into the other. 
It must therefore be evident that pain is, under 
certain circumstances, really beneficial. It is often a 
great boon to have a sensitive stomach; for those who 
suffer pain after food are less apt habitually to err in 
diet, and thus to become dyspeptic or gouty, than those 
whose organs receive everything uncomplainingly. Pain 
in the stomach is frequently due (in well-to-do people) 
* In hysterical or hypochondriacal people, whose sensibility is very 
acute, apparent paralysis occasionally occurs, not from loss of power 
hut from fear to move a part lest motion should give rise to painful 
sensations. 240 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
to the fact that they won’t work and will eat; not 
that the stomach itself is weak (as they think), but that 
the supply of food being greater than the demand, the 
system becomes overstocked. In dyspepsia the cause 
is very often far away, and the stomach is no more 
the cause of the malady than the big toe is of the gout j 
but if the -stomach gave no signs of perturbation, the 
evil would be allowed longer to exist unnoticed. We 
should always give early attention to pain, and discover 
its causes, before they become too complex to be un- 
ravelled, and before the derangement which its presence 
indicates becomes permanent. We must not school the 
body to bear it under a mistaken notion that resig- 
nation, for its own sake, is a virtue to be cultivated, 
but take steps at once to find out and avoid the cause. 
Pain tells us that the bodily machinery is out of order, 
and needs attention; and to nothing does the old adage 
apply more truly, that “a stitch in time saves nine.” 
In some persons, it is true, there is a tendency to 
morbid introspection, and much thought may be given 
to little meaningless ailments; but as a rule it is wise 
to be ready to detect the earliest evidence of derange- 
ment in order that appropriate remedial measures may 
be at once adopted. When, on the other hand, it has 
been ascertained that any form of pain denotes no real 
danger, or that the mischief is irremediable, nothing NOTES ON PAIN. 
241 
contributes more at once to manliness of character 
aU(I to enjoyment of life than to put away as far as 
possible the thought of the inevitable suffering, and to 
encounter it with cheerfulness. 
From what has been said, it appears that we can in 
110 sense regard pain as a needlessly inflicted punish- 
ment, for plain evidences of its usefulness are not 
Wanting. In health, but for a wholesome dread of pain, 
we should, as children, be daily rushing into danger; 
and throughout life it acts as a continual perservativo 
from harm, preventing the performance of many actions 
which might entail upon us bodily injury. In disease, 
again, especially when of an inflammatory type, it serves 
to secure to us that perfect rest so essential in promoting 
recovery, and prompts to many necessary actions which 
we should otherwise neglect.* 
Pain also has higher uses even than these. We most 
of us admit that we are better for wise correction; and 
if we regard pain as a means of iC refining our earth- 
liness,” as indeed a “ loving correction,” then the 
correction may become "loved” also for its end's sake. 
• The following extract from the letter of a lady, long a great sufferer 
illustrates the influence of pain as a life preserver: “ Pain makes me take 
care now: though the love and desire of life are wholly gone, there remains 
the same shrinking from increased pain; and so I don’t do things I 
should do otherwise, because they would probably bring on suffering 
without touching life.” 6 242 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
and bearing the pain become an easy task; so that 
we can say in Keble's spirit:— 
“ Wish not, dear friends, my pain away; 
Wish me a wise and thankful heart, 
With God in all my griefs to stay, 
Nor from the loved correction part.” 
As gold is purified in the furnace, so is character 
refined by pain. Nor is this merely a modern thought; 
when the ancient patriarch was wasted by protracted 
suffering, then it was said, “There is none perfect on 
all the earth like Job.” 
All this, however, does not prove that pain is a good 
in itself. Its beneficial effects in leading us to avoid 
evil are partial only; often its results are mischievous : 
nor does it always punish sin, or serve as a discipline 
to characterfor very often it falls upon the innocent 
most heavily; very often it hardens and rouses to the 
bitterness of despair, paralysing instead of stimulating. 
Some deeper reason than any of these must account 
for its existence in the work of a beneficent Creator. 
We have now hastily glanced at some of the pro- 
minent characteristics of pain. The subject of pleasure 
is so intimately associated with it in our minds, that 
we cannot pass it by without the one remark that it 
is impossible to draw an absolute line between the two. 
In some instances, what is to one person painful, is to NOTES ON PAIN. 
243 
another, .or to the same person at another time, plea- 
surable. Our pains and pleasures depend to a great 
extent upon ourselves. The absence of all exertion, 
unendurable to the healthy man, may be to the invalid 
essential to pleasure or comfort; the natural exercise 
of the powers, which ought to be a source of pleasure, 
uiay be his agony. Things rightly pleasurable become 
painful when we lack the power to enjoy them; and 
on the other hand, without a certain amount of endur- 
ance, life ceases to be enjoyable, and work, itself an 
irksome thing, we find necessary for happiness. X. 
BE Sr IB AT JON. 
I. THE ELAME OF LIFE. 
It has been a favourite comparison of moralists and 
philosophers to say that the life of man is like the 
burning of a flame; and, looking at the physical life, 
not of man only, but of other animals, there can be no 
doubt that the comparison is true in more senses than 
could have been suspected by those who first made use 
of it. For life, like the burning of a flame, is a con- 
tinuous process, which has no stop or pause. It needs, 
like fire, to go on with a certain energy and intensity, 
if it is to go on at all; and, failing this, it fades away 
and comes to an end, not to be again revived, except 
new life be given. These points of likeness have 
always been seen, and it is probably such as these 
which suggested the image. But there is one other 
point, less striking at first sight, in which life and 
flame are not merely analogous, but exactly alike. 
Neither, as we commonly know them, can exist 
without the presence of the common air; and, as we 
shall see, there are other points of likeness which de- 
pend on this. It is not, of course, our object here RESPIRATION. 
245 
to pursue tlie comparison very far, but having to speak 
of that part of man’s life called respiration, or, in plain 
words, of what we have to do with the air—how we 
hreathe it, and for what end—it will greatly help ns 
to start from this admirable comparison. For, in this 
respect, at least, our life is precisely like the burning 
of a taper. We need air just as much, we take from 
it the same things, and we give the same things to it, 
as a candle, or a fire. But, to make this clear, it will 
be necessary to say first what it is we mean by burn- 
ing, and what this has to do with the air. 
We have said that a candle cannot burn without 
air. How is this shown ? Since in common life wo 
do not know what it is to bo without air, it is neces- 
sary to have recourse to an experiment. Let us sup- 
pose that we set a taper to burn in some limited space, 
as, for instance, in a closed glass jar. Lecturers on 
chemistry do this by fixing the taper on a piece of 
cork, floating in water, and then inverting a bell jar 
over the whole. Most persons know what the result 
is. At first the taper burns as freely as in the open 
air, but gradually the flame becomes less bright, and 
at length it goes out altogether. Moreover, in a large 
jar it burns a longer, in a small jar a shorter time. 
This shows very plainly that not only is some air neces- 
sary, but a certain quantity. We shall find, too. 246 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
another fact well worthy of notice,, namely, that the air 
which remains is altered; so much so, that a fresh 
taper will not burn in it at all. It would seem then, 
that the taper has removed from the air all that 
was valuable, and left behind what it could make no 
use of. 
Now, exactly in the same way, the effect produced 
by living beings on the air may be examined, and 
the result is found to be precisely the same. If a 
small animal, such as a mouse, is shut up in a closed 
jar, it dies after a longer or shorter time; and it will 
be impossible for another animal to live in the air in 
which the first has died. Moreover, as a general rule, 
it would be found that a candle could not burn in the 
air in which an animal could not live, and vice versa. 
It seems, then, that in these respects the process 
of life and the process of burning are exactly alike. In 
each process, a certain part of the air seems to be used 
up; and since the air which is left is good neither for 
life nor for combustion, we may suppose that they 
require and use up the same part or ingredient of 
the air. Every one who knows anything of chemistry 
has heard that the air, though it seems to us some- 
thing quite simple, is really a mixture of two gases or 
kinds of air. These are known by the names of oxygen 
and nitrogen. Oxygon, also called vital air, is the RESPIRATION. 
247 
active and important element in supporting life and 
combustion: while nitrogen is a neutral or inactive 
gas, which is of no particular account for either of 
these purposes. If oxygen were removed, though it is 
only 
one-fifth part of the whole in bulk, nothing could 
live or burn. If nitrogen, which makes up four-fifths, 
'Were taken away, its absence, though important enough 
m other respects, would not prevent the processes 
of life or combustion from going on. It is hardly 
necessary to say, then, that what a burning candle 
or a living animal takes from the air is oxygen (though 
neither takes away, generally speaking, all the oxygen), 
and what is left behind is principally nitrogen. 
But there are one or two other points to be men- 
tioned about the air in which things have burned or 
lived. In the first place, such air is always moist. 
We know that our breath is moist, that is to say, 
contains watery vapour, and the same thing may be 
seen by holding a cold glass above the flame of a 
candle. In the second place, such air always contains 
a peculiar gas, or kind of air, called carbonic acid, or 
fixed air. This is indeed to be found in the atmo- 
sphere at all times, but in very small quantities, only 
about four parts in ten thousand. It is the same gas 
which in mines is called choice-damp, which is met with 
at the bottoms of wells and in brewers* vats -} and is 248 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
in all these cases known to be so dangerous and deadly. 
It is always contained, as we have seen, in the air 
in which any living animal has been, or a candle has 
burnt; and it is the presence of this gas, quite as much 
as the want of oxygen, which prevents other things 
from living or burning in the same space. 
In these respects, then, at least, life and combustion 
are precisely alike; that they take from the air oxygen 
or vital air, and they add to it moisture and the deadly 
gas called carbonic acid. So far, every • living thing 
has a fire burning within. It seems strange that, 
in this point, all living things should be the enemies 
of each other. We are each one of us continually 
taking from the air what our fellow-creatures need, 
and adding to it what is poisonous to them. The 
competition would be terrible indeed were vital air 
not bestowed in such inexhaustible profusion; and 
serious indeed would be the wrong done by one crea- 
ture to another, were there not means at hand for 
dispersing the deadly poison which all produce, and 
rendering it harmless. In the open air no creature 
ever suffered from want of oxygen, or from too much 
carbonic acid; but in crowded rooms and unhealthy 
dwellings, serious harm may be caused by the excess 
of tho one, and possibly also by deficiency of the other. 
Of this, however, we shall speak by-and-by. RESPIRATION. 
249 
We have said that animals are continually taking from 
the air, and giving to it, certain gases. We shall now 
Say something about the mechanism or apparatus by 
which those gases get in and out of the body. 
11. THE MECHANISM OF BREATHING. 
In the first place, we must say that the gases always 
pass through a moist membrane or delicate skin, and 
always pass into or out of the blood. This is the one 
thing necessary. There mnst be in every organ of 
breathing a delicate moist skin, which permits air of 
different kinds to pass through readily, but nothing 
else to pass in or out. Such a membrane as this, on 
one side of which is the blood, on the other side the 
air, may be called the breathing-membrane. In the 
simplest animals the whole of the skin serves this 
purpose; they breathe all over their bodies. But in 
more complicated animals one part only of the general 
covering is set apart for this purpose. Just as in a 
simple state of society every man is a soldier, a hus- 
bandman, a shepherd, a tradesman; but in civilized 
societies one man has, as a rule, only one trade: so 
in simple animals any part of the skin may be used 
for any purpose—for taking in food or for taking in 
air; but in the higher animals one part is devoted to 
one purpose and one to another. 
Now the breathing membrane of animals is arranged 250 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
in various forms. It may line a hollow place com- 
municating with the outside, as in the lungs of air- 
breathing animals, or it may be stretched over a pro- 
jecting portion of the body, as in the gills of fishes 
and other water animals. The sea snail in Fig. 1 
Pig. 1. 
Tlio crown of tufts on its back, which is covered with a delicate mem- 
brane, is its breathing apparatus. (After Carpenter.) 
DORIS, OR SEA SNAIL. 
breathes by the delicate tufts on his back, which are 
covered by what we have called the breathing-mem- 
brane. Water animals do not really breathe water, 
but the air which is dissolved in it. If yon boil some 
water, so as to drive all the air out, and put a fish in 
it, he will be just as badly off as a fish out of water. 
So that the breathing of water animals and land animals 
is really the same process. The fact that an animal 
possesses breathing organs does not prevent some 
breathing taking place through the ordinary skin. 
Animals with moist skins, as frogs, breathe a good respiration. 
251 
deal in this way 5 and even in ourselves a certain 
amount of gas is given out through the skin, though 
it is doubtful whether any air is absorbed. At all 
the chief amount of breathing is done by tho 
special breathing-membrane which lines, as we have 
said, certain organs called the lungs. 
Our lungs, as most people know, are situated in our 
CAST OF ONE OF THE TERMINAL BRANCHES OF THE BRONCHIAL TUBES 
FROM THE HUMAN LUNG. 
Natural size. (After Henle.) 
chest, and air is conveyed to them through a pipe in 
our neck, called the trachea or windpipe. Now, the 
windpipe divides into two, sending a branch into each 
lung. These branches divide into several others, called 
bronchial tubes, and these into still smaller bronchial 
tubes (Fig. 2). Finally, the smallest bronchial tubes 252 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
end in a very small funnel-shaped cavity, at the 
sides of which are several saucer-shaped spaces, called 
air-cells. Fig. 3 represents a plaster cast of some of 
these funnel-shaped terminations, with the air-cells 
upon them. Thus the whole system of tubes is like 
Fig. 3 
SMALL PORTION OP THE SAME CAST AS IN FIG. 2 
Magnified 15 diameters. (After Henle.) 
a tree, of which the windpipe is the trunk; and the 
air-cells are, roughly, like fruit or leaves growing on 
the smallest twigs. Each twig, or little bronchial 
tube, with its group of air-cells, forms a hollow space, 
like a glove with the fingers distended, and does not 
communicate with the others, but only opens into the 
larger air-tubes. This will be understood by Fig. 4, 
which represents a lung before it is completely formed. RESPIRA TION. 
253 
Here the air-tubes are seen to be hollowed out in the 
solid substance of the lung. As the lung grows, these 
become a hundred times as numerous, and are so 
closely packed together that the solid substance be- 
comes almost nothing, and the lung appears porous. 
Fig. 4. 
Showing the plan on which the perfect lung is formed, t is the trachea 
or windpipe. (After Eeker.) 
HUMAN LUNG AT A VERY EARLY STAGE OF GROWTH. 
like a sponge. But really it is made up of nothing 
but air-cells and thbes arranged as we have described 
them, and forming one cavity which communicates with 
the outside air only through the windpipe. 
The membrane lining this cavity is the breathing- 
-12 & 254 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
membrane, and its whole extent has been calculated 
as from 10 to 20 square feet; so that if we imagine a 
sheet 3 feet long by 4 or 5 feet wide, that will show 
us by how large a surface air is constantly entering 
and leaving our body. We said just now that the 
breathing-membrane must have air on one side and 
Fig. 5. 
NETWORK OF CAPILLARY BLOOD-VESSELS ON THE MEMBRANE LINING AN 
. AIR-CELL. 
Small arteries cut across. Magnified 300 diameters. (After Henle.) 
the blood of the body on the other. We have seen 
how the air gets to it. Let us now speak of the 
blood. If we examine the wall of one of the air-cells 
we find that many very small blood-vessels, called, 
from their size, capillaries, or hair-like tubes, are RESPIRATION. 
255 
spread over it. They are so closely placed that (as 
We see in Fig. 5) they occupy more space than the 
intervening parts. Imagine the sheet we spoke of 
just now covered with a network like this., and we 
shall get some notion of the distribution of blood in 
the lungs. These little vessels are in connection with 
larger vessels called arteries, which start from one 
main stem, called the pulmonary artery, which begins 
in the heart. At every beat of our heart, blood is 
sent through the pulmonary artery into this wonderful 
network of vessels, whence it returns by another set 
of vessels, called veins, to the heart. It is calculated 
that aV of all the blood in our bodies passes at each 
stroke of the heart into the lungs; so that after 
twenty-seven strokes, or, on the average, in twenty 
seconds, the whole mass of blood has passed over the 
breathing-membrane and been exposed to the action 
of the air. 
The lungs are inclosed in an air-tight box—Viz., the 
chest, which may be made> larger or smaller by the 
movements of its floor and walls. The floor of the 
chest is a muscular plate called the diaphragm, or 
midriff, which is not flat, but arched or vaulted up- 
wards. Every time we “ draw a breath,” or take air 
into the chest, this floor becomes flatter and less 
arched, the consequence of which is that the size of PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
tlie chest is increased. The walls of the chest, as wo 
know, are made of the bony plates called the ribs. 
These are so arranged that they move upwards, and 
at the same time project farther from the backbone, 
and thus the chest becomes deeper in its fore and aft 
direction. The lungs are not absolutely fastened to 
the walls of the chest, but their outer surface clings 
very closely to the walls by suction; so that if the 
hollow of the chest becomes larger, the lungs, being 
made of a substance which is extremely elastic, swell 
up and become larger in proportion. If, then, we 
want to draw breath, the floor of our chest moves 
down, the walls move upwards and outwards, the lungs 
expand, and a certain amount of air is drawn into 
them through the windpipe. When this effort, called 
inspiration, or breathing in, is over, the chest walls fall 
back to their former position by their natural elas- 
ticity, and as much air as was drawn in is now ex- 
pelled. Thus the movement of breathing in is a 
distinct effort, and the movement of breathing out is 
not, as a rule, an effort at all; but we can increase its 
force, if necessary, by some voluntary exertion. 
As might be expected, not all the air in the lungs 
is changed with each breath. The amount drawn in 
and driven out again is calculated to be not more than 
fo of what the lungs contain, the actual quantity being RESPIRATION. 
257 
from 20 to 30 cubic inches. The air, when drawn in, 
cannot, of course, penetrate at once to the inmost parts 
of the lungs, where the air-cells are; but it mixes with 
the air contained in these parts, and thus that which is 
breathed out again, though about the same in quantity, 
is very much altered in properties. It is both hotter 
and moister, and the gases it contains, are in different 
proportions. The vital air is, as we might expect, less 
in proportion, but the carbonic acid of which we have 
spoken is enormously increased. Breathed air contains 
a hundred times as much carbonic acid as ordinary 
air,—containing four parts in a hundred instead of four 
in ten thousand. It is plain, then, that the use of 
the lungs is to take up air for the use of the body, 
and to send out the gas which, as we have seen, is 
always produced by life or by burning; we must not, 
however, suppose that the process of burning takes 
place especially in the lungs. The air absorbed is 
conveyed by the blood to every part of. the body, 
and the carbonic acid given out is, in the same way, 
collected from every corner to which the blood pene- 
trates. 
m.—VARIATIONS IN AMOUNT OF RESPIRATION. 
Having, then, said something about the machinery by 
which the process of breathing is carried on, we now 258 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
propose to consider the amount of breathing which 
goes on under different circumstances, and the rules 
for practical life which may be drawn from these 
facts. The most elaborate and extensive experiments 
have been made to measure the quantities of gases 
absorbed or given off under different circumstances; 
and it will perhaps be interesting to give some ac- 
count of some of the ingenious and beautiful apparatus 
by which these results have been arrived at. 
We shall confine ourselves to describing the most 
perfect apparatus yet contrived—that erected at Munich 
by the wise liberality of the late King of Bavaria, and 
now in operation under the guidance of Professors 
Pettenkofer and Yoit. The principle of this is to 
determine the exact amounts of oxygen consumed and 
carbonic acid given out by an individual living under 
ordinary conditions, and with whom it is therefore 
possible to carry on the experiments for many hours 
at a time. The way in which this object is effected 
is as follows: 
A little sheet-iron chamber, about eight feet in. each 
direction, is devoted to the individual who is the subject 
of experiment: in it he can live, eat, and sleep with 
tolerable comfort for twelve or twenty-four hours. In 
one side of the chamber two pipes are fixed, about 
three inches in diameter, which unite a little way off, RESPIRATION. 
259 
and through which air is continually pumped out oi 
the chamber by steam-power. There is an opening on 
the other side for the entrance of air, but this is not 
wanted, that which finds its way in through the 
crevices of the door and windows being sufficient,. In 
this way a continual strong current of air is drawn 
through the chamber, so that on an average 70,000 
gallons pass through in one day. The air which is 
thus drawn through has to be measured, and also to 
be analysed, in order to ascertain the exact amount 
of oxygen, carbonic acid, and watery vapour which it 
contains. The air is measured by being made to pass 
through an ordinary English gasometer, and a portion 
only is withdrawn to be analysed; this portion being, 
of course, also measured, and the quantities of these 
substances contained in it being ascertained, it is, of 
course, possible to calculate how much is contained in 
the whole mass of air. The sample analysed is not, 
however, more than of the whole. It will thus 
be seen that the results obtained do not show the 
proportion of particular gases in the air inspired or 
expired, but the absolute amount of oxygen consumed, 
and of carbonic acid generated, under particular cir- 
cumstances. A little consideration will show why this 
is so important a matter to determine. It is very 
much like, though not exactly the same thing as, PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
weighing the coals burnt in a furnace. It is like 
that, or comes to the same thing, because, when any- 
thing is burnt, the amount of material consumed is 
exactly in proportion to the amount of air used up. 
If, then, we could measure the air consumed by a 
steam-engine, it would be the same thing as measur- 
ing the coals, and would equally tell us the amount 
of work performed. Now this is just what we do 
with the animal body. We measure the amount .of 
air it uses up, and the carbonic acid produced, and 
find that this tells us precisely what amount of work it 
does or can do. So exactly does this process corre- 
spond to determining the amount of fuel burnt up in a 
fire, that when some candles were burnt in the Munich 
apparatus, the weight consumed could be, it was found, 
precisely calculated from the gases produced. 
We must here say a word about the one point in 
which the comparison of life to combustion does not 
entirely hold. In combustion, the amount of air used, 
and the amount of the often-spoken-of carbonic acid 
produced, are, for any period whatever, exactly equal 
in bulk. In the living animal, this is not the case, if 
the observation is made for a short period of time only; 
sometimes the one seems to be too much, sometimes 
the other. If, however, the quantities of both in 
twenty-four hours are determined, they are found to bo RESPIRA TION. 
261 
pretty nearly equal; the oxygen being constantly rather 
Juore; since it is, in fact, used in the body for other 
purposes besides burning up material to form carbonic 
acid gas. With this exception, the processes are in 
the long run the same. Now, it has always been 
suspected that the body possessed some power of 
accumulating oxygen for future use, and some experi- 
ments lately made with the great Munich apparatus 
have thrown much light upon this point. It has been 
found that, speaking generally, we absorb more oxy- 
gen during the night, and produce more carbonic acid 
during the day.* In other words, we store up in the 
hours of sleep that vital air which we need for the 
hours of toil. Moreover, as the amount of carbonic 
acid produced always bears some kind of proportion 
to the work done in the day, so, after a laborious 
day, it was found that the process of absorption was 
also active just in proportion. This certainly explains 
better to us the uses of sleep than any facts hitherto 
known. As the production of carbonic acid is more 
especially a process belonging to the day, so it is 
accelerated by all occupations which belong to the 
* Later experiments Lave thrown some doubt on this statement. It 
has been found that the hours of taking food much affect the result 
Still something always remains which is due to the difference of day and 
night. 262 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
day. The quantity increases with exercise, it in- 
creases after taking food. It has been noticed, too, 
that in cold weather much more of this gas is pro- 
duced than in warm weather, and more when moist 
air is breathed than dry air. We should not suppose, 
as people often do, that fresh air is less needed in 
winter than in summer. As might be expected, the 
amount of this gas produced is greater also in pro- 
portion to the size of the individual; but it is curious 
that this seems to depend more upon muscular de- 
velopment than height, or even the capacity of the 
chest. Grown persons produce naturally more than 
children or old people, but children produce more in 
proportion to their weight. 
We have spoken of some of the conditions under 
which the great fire of the animal body is kept up. 
A few words may now be said about one result com- 
monly associated with burning, and, as we shall see, 
also associated with the flame of life—that is, the 
production of heat. It is certain that the heat of the 
animal body is simply owing to the burning which is 
continually going on inside it. This production of 
heat doubtless takes place in all parts of the body, 
and not only in the lungs, so that no one organ can 
be spoken of as if it were the furnace of the whole 
system. Eather the whole body is one great furnace. RESPIRATION. 
263 
It is tolerably certain that most, if not all, of the 
great operations or functions of the body cannot go 
0n without some kind of combustion. The muscles 
contract, the nerves transmit sensations or the com- 
mands of the will, the stomach digests, the brain acts 
111 thinking; in all these cases, some kind of chemical 
Process is going on which requires the presence of 
vital air, and which resembles in some degree the 
process of burning. If this be the case, how im- 
portant it must be that there should be no impedi- 
ment to perfect combustion, that not only the supply 
°f fuel, but the supply of air, should be sufficient! 
With the fuel we have at the present moment nothing 
to do. That stands for food in our comparison. But 
just as coals will not burn unless there be a good 
draught, so it is certain that food will do us no good 
without a proper supply of fresh air. People are very 
willing to admit this in words, but they do not always 
think about, or perhaps know, what pure air is, and 
how it is to be obtained. No one doubts that the air 
of the mountain-top or of the open fields in a healthy 
country is pure.- If we could only get enough of that, 
we should do very well. But the air some of us have 
to breathe is not so good as this; and we do not al- 
ways get enough of it. There are very many impuri- 
ties met with in air \ but we must confine ourselves PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
here to those arising from the process of breathing 
itself; in which, as we have seen, men are always 
tending to poison one another. A man breathes ont 
on an average twelve cubic feet of air in an hour; 
and this air contains, as we have seen, 100 times as 
much carbonic acid as ordinary air. In order, then, 
to dilute this, and to bring it to a condition in which 
it is fit to breathe again, it should be diluted with one 
hundred times its bulk of pure air. Since ordinary air 
contains, as we have said, a certain proportion of this 
gas, it will be necessary to have double this quantity 
in order that the products of respiration may be ren- 
dered at once perfectly harmless. This would give 
2,400 cubic feet per hour as the quantity of fresh air 
necessary. Since, however, there is a great deal of 
imperceptible diffusion of air, it is quite safe to say 
that 2,000 cubic feet per hour for each individual 
would be sufficient. This number agrees very closely 
with those obtained by different observers by various 
methods, and is, moreover, the same as that arrived 
at after careful experiments as to. actual ventilation of 
rooms. 
This will, however, convey but little practical in- 
formation if we do not know what size and arrange- 
ment of openings there should be to secure this 
amount of air. It is calculated that if nothing but RESPIRATION. 
265 
natural ventilation is made use of, that is to say, the 
natural movements of hot and cold air, an opening 
five inches in the square will admit this amount of air 
111 an hour; at the same time there should be an 
equal opening in another position for escape of tho 
nupuro air. The outlet should naturally be near tho 
top of a room, and the inlet near the floor. To take 
an instance: suppose that a room is to be ventilated 
entirely by means of a window four feet wide. If this 
■Were opened rather more than half an inch at the bot- 
tom and the same at the top, we should get two open- 
nigs of the required size; that is the very smallest 
amount sufficient to destroy the bad effects of the 
breathing of one person. If two persons are present, 
each opening should be twice as large, and so on. 
This implies that the window must be thus open day 
and night, quite independently of opening the doors 
and windoWs from time to time. Of course, it is not 
in all seasons possible to keep windows open, and then 
we must have some other method. The one most 
readily at hand is the fireplace. Since there is here 
an additional force at work, namely, the heat of the 
fire, we can, to a certain extent, dispense with an inlet, 
for the draught will suck air in for itself through cre- 
vices and chance openings, but it is much better that 
these should be provided. An ordinary chimney is sel- 266 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
dom more than one foot square in the shaft, often not 
more than eight inches. Now, a shaft eight inches 
square gives ventilation sufficient for about three men, 
on our scale, certainly not more. So that if more than 
that number habitually live in a room, some other means 
of ventilation is necessary. 
We give these numbers as the least possible con- 
sistent with proper removal of the ordinary products 
of breathing; but how many other sources of impurity 
are there ! Take simply gas-burners, or even other 
lights. It has been calculated that an ordinary gas- 
burner requires, to remove entirely all the impurities 
produced, about 5,000 cubic feet in an hour, or 
times as much as a man. We must then reckon two 
gas-burners as equivalent to five persons in the amount 
of ventilation they require. A moderate-sized oil-lamp 
or a candle only contaminates the air one-tenth as much 
as a gas-burner. 
It must be evident that very few rooms are con- 
structed to change the air as much as, on these prin- 
ciples, it should be changed. In ordinary sitting-rooms, 
where but few people remain at one time, and where 
the doors are frequently opened, the fireplace in win- 
ter, and open windows in summer, *are quite sufficient. 
But what can be the state of, workshops, schools, law- 
courts, theatres, concert-rooms ?—what of churches and RESPIRATION. 
267 
chapels ? It is plain that scarcely any at all approach 
the proper standard. In buildings used only for an 
hour or two, the deficiency may be pardoned; but what 
is to be said of workshops and factories, where many 
live fop long hours, and are besides hard at work; 
thus producing, as we know, with all the more ra- 
pidity, substances which contaminate the air ? 
The day will come, let us hope, when people will 
look back with astonishment and horror on the cruel 
ignorance of the present day. 
Look again at sleeping-rooms. We know that though 
the air is less contaminated during sleep, there is all 
the greater need of oxygen; since, too, there is no 
opening of doors, or going in and out during the night, 
there should be all the more care taken to have a con- 
stant change of air. Yet people will shut up every 
crevice in a small bedroom, and go to sleep, flattering 
themselves that if it is warm it must be healthy. 
Closely connected with the question of the supply 
of fresh air is that of the size of rooms. The amount 
of space allowed to each man in barracks is now 600 
cubic feet, and in hospitals twice that amount. This 
is equal to a small room measuring 8| feet every way, 
in height, width, and length. There is little doubt, 
however, that it should be more, and 800 feet would 
not be too much. This gives a room eight feet high, 268 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
and ten feet in each of its other dimensions. These 
numbers apply especially to sleeping-rooms,, but quite 
as much space is necessary in day-rooms, if they are 
occupied for many hours together, as are workshops 
or schools. 
So far are ordinary buildings from fulfilling these 
conditions, that we must be prepared for a little in- 
credulity as to the necessity for them. It may be said 
that if this be the case, no one can be in good health. 
Now the real state of the case probably is, that well- 
to-do people living in good-sized rooms, which are 
very rarely crowded, do not, as a rule, suffer from 
insufficient supply of air; but in the crowded dwellings 
of the poor, and quite as much in shops, milliners* 
workrooms, and so forth, the amount of disease and 
ill health thus produced is enormous. One good in- 
stance is worth a hundred statements of opinion; and 
so we will just quote authentic documents relating to 
the prevalence in the English army of certain diseases 
—as, for instance, consumption—which are known to 
be especially encouraged by impure air. In former 
years, barracks were built without any regard to the 
health of the soldier, and combined almost every pos- 
sible deficiency in the supply and distribution of fresh 
air. Since the year 1859, an entirely new system has 
been in force. The new barracks are built with a pro- RESPIRATION. 
269 
per regard to ventilation, and the old ones have been 
ttuich improved. The effect in the general mortality, 
aud especially in diminishing the ravages of this class 
°f diseases, is most extraordinary. Formerly, con- 
sumption and similar diseases caused more than half 
the whole number of deaths; the proportion is now 
just about one-third. When we take into account the 
feet that deaths from all diseases in the army are 
scarcely half as numerous as formerly, the gain to 
human life will seem still more extraordinary. All 
European armies formerly suffered much in the same 
Way, and some do so still; but in most similar reforms 
have lately been introduced. It should be remembered 
that these facts refer, in the case of the English army, 
uot only to cities and unhealthy stations, but to some 
°f the most splendid climates in the world, where the 
only circumstance tending to produce consumption was 
the bad construction of the barracks. This instance is 
quite enough to show that active habits and sufficient 
food and healthy climate are not enough to prevent 
such diseases, if the rooms in which we live, and es- 
pecially those in which we sleep, do not give us a 
proper supply of air to feed the ever-burning fire 
within us. 
It needs to be emphasized that breathing, although the 
uaost familiar of operations, is, at the same time, the most 270 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
important. We can survive for a time without clothing, 
exercise, food, or drink, but we die at once when air is with- 
held. It is the motive power of life, the most vital of all 
physiological necessities; and, when the operation by which 
it is supplied is badly performed, the processes of life are 
sure to be deranged; and the danger is all the greater be- 
cause the morbid action is insidious and gradual. This is, 
therefore, a case which requires especial watchfulness to 
preserve the health, and, instead of regarding respiration as 
something that will go on of itself, and ventilation as a 
mere crotchet of sanitarians, it should be attended to habitu- 
ally as a matter of duty and conscience. XI. 
taking gold. 
To say, “I have taken cold/' or “1 have caught cold,” 
in strict language, inaccurate. In the first place, 
natural philosophers tell us there is no such thing as 
cold; it simply implies in an arbitrary manner a low 
degree of heat. An atmosphere which feels cool to 
some persons is not so to others. In the next place, 
hy taking cold, one intends to express that the body 
is affected by a definite set of symptoms, for which 
the phrase is not appropriate. 
We do not say, “ I have taken heat,” or “ I have 
taken damp,” although these influences produce disease 
as well as cold. Nevertheless, the expression in ques- 
tion is sanctioned by usage, and is well understood, 
since every one in his own person has experienced the 
symptoms which go to make up the condition of having 
a cold. The affection is termed a cold because no cause 272 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
develops it more frequently tlian sudden or prolonged 
exposure to a low temperature when the body is in- 
sufficiently protected. 
To understand how this happens, it will be necessary 
to remind the reader of the structure of the human 
skin. Every square inch of skin is perforated by several 
thousand openings, which are the apertures of cor- 
responding glands by which the perspiration is separated 
from the blood. The quantity even of the insensible 
perspiration is very great, and it will surprise many to 
hear that, in the healthy state, it amounts to more than 
two pints in twenty-four hours. Under the influence 
of exercise or of unusual heat, such as that of the 
Turkish bath, when perspiration drops from the body, it 
is, of course, considerably greater. The skin, owing to its 
structure, possesses a contractile power in a high degree. 
Cold contracts almost all substances, and when the 
skin is exposed to its influence the contraction becomes 
visible to the eye, and the appearance it presents is 
called goose-sldn, from its. resemblance to the natural 
condition of the skin of the goose. Occasionally the 
effect of the contraction is to close rigidly the perspira- 
tory pores, by which the escape of the secretion is 
obstructed. This, so far as we know, is the essential 
cause of what we call a cold. It seems that the fluid, 
having been checked in its natural outpour, is diverted TAKING COLD. 
273 
inwardly upon the mucous surfaces of the body. Be- 
tween these surfaces, which line all the internal parts 
have any connection with the outer air, and the 
skin or covering of the external parts, there is a close 
delation, which is sometimes expressed by the term 
sympathy. Thus, it is well known that in many persons 
certain substances, which act as irritants to the stomach 
and bowels, cause irritation, and even eruptions, on the 
skin. Worms in children cause itching of the entrance 
to the nostrils; shell-fish, cucumber, and many other 
articles, produce in some persons eruptions on the face. 
In the latter instances, it may be objected that the 
noxious agents act by affecting the blood, but in many 
cases there are reasons for believing that the effect can 
only be that of indirect, or, as it is scientifically called, 
reflected irritation. 
This internal skin, then, or mucous membrane, properly 
so called, is very prone to be affected by causes which 
derange the natural action of the outer skin. But the 
mucous membrane is itself provided with glands which 
secrete its mucus or natural moisture; for in a state 
of health this, in many situations, such as the nasal 
cavities, is all that is required, and therefore all that 
is present. But when the mucous membrane of a part 
secretes fluid in excess, and a defluxion is established, the 
affection is termed catarrh. This word is a Greek com- 274 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE, 
pound, denoting an increased flow; and it is probable 
that none of the mucous membranes are exempt from 
its occurrence from some cause or other. 
Cold in the head is by far the most frequent result 
of taking cold, regarded in a general sense. It may 
be well to describe briefly the symptoms of this com- 
mon disorder; but it is desirable first to explain the 
nature of the parts affected. 
The interior of the nose consists of a cavity separated 
into two equal parts by a thin partition of bone, which 
passes from before backwards, and which is continuous 
with the fleshy part of the partition seen at the entrance 
to the nostrils. Attached to the outer wall of each 
cavity are three thin convoluted pieces of bone, ar- 
ranged one above the other, and also extending from 
before backwards. All these bones are covered by 
mucous membrane, and one use of the convolutions 
is to increase the surface exposed to the air, so that 
the odoriferous particles or vapours may thus affect 
the nerves of smell, which are distributed over the. 
membrane. Now these cavities of the nose, besides 
other connections, communicate with the mouth and 
throat behind, and above with certain cavities in the 
front of the skull, which act as sounding-boards in 
giving clearness to the voice; and these cavities are 
also lined with mucous membrane. TAKING COLD. 
275 
The first symptoms of cold in the head are a sense 
°f tightness or fulness in the nose and forehead, cor- 
responding with the position of the cavities in the skull 
already described. The person sneezes, and his eyes 
become suffused. There is a general sense of discomfort, 
and disinclination for exertion. The skin is dry, and 
the pulse a little quicker than usual. The patient is, 
in short, somewhat feverish. If the interior of the 
nose be now examined, its surface will be found hotter 
and drier than natural; it looks redder, too, and tumid, 
from containing an excess of blood. The tumidity of 
the mucous membrane causes a sense of obstruction 
to be felt, and the voice is frequently affected from 
interference with the free connection between the nose 
and the frontal cavities. After this state of things has 
continued for a day, or longer, moisture begins to exude 
from the mucous membrane of the nose. This moist- 
ure is often at first thin and clear, like water; it is 
not pure water, however, but contains several ingredi- 
ents, of which common salt is one. It frets and causes 
a sore eruption on the surface of the upper lip, over 
which it trickles during sleep. 
After two or three days, the nature of the discharge 
m general alters. It thickens, becoming rather opaque 
and very viscid. In children, it is now often more or 
less purulent—that is, yellow or mattery. 276 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Every one knows that although this discharge is in- 
convenient, and that the use of the pocket-handkerchief 
conies to be an absolute necessity, it is soon attended 
by relief. The sensation of tension in the head ceases, 
the skin begins to resume its proper functions, and the 
slight disturbance of health gradually lessens. But 
the time in which a cold in the head runs its course is 
very variable. Some persons get rid of such a cold 
in a few days, while others, from some peculiarity of 
constitution, retain it very much longer. A good deal 
depends, too, on how it is treated, and certain plans 
have been proposed by which this troublesome enemy 
can be more or less successfully combated. Not to 
mention many medicines, of which one of the most 
efficient is opium in some form,—but for the use of which 
it is always better to seek proper advice,—there is a par- 
ticular method of treatment, once in much vogue, which, 
although troublesome, is sometimes very successful. If 
consists in abstaining as much as possible from drinking 
any liquids. By this means the supply of fluid to the 
blood, which goes to keep up the discharge, is cut off, 
and with it the discharge itself. In this way a bad 
cold in the head may sometimes be cured in a single 
day. 
An equable temperature also conduces towards re- 
covery. It is always desirable in winter to remain a TAXING COLD. 
277 
fow days altogether within doors, and to keep one’s 
aPartment at a constant heat of about 65° Fahrenheit. 
This gradually induces the skin to perspire, by which 
its sympathetic friend, the mucous membrane, which 
has been trying, however imperfectly, to do the work of 
Jts neighbour, is relieved from its efforts. Sometimes, 
and especially at the very commencement of a cold, a 
forced action of the skin, by which it is made to sweat 
Profusely, succeeds. This may be effected by internal 
Medicines, aided by hot drinks, while the body is well 
covered with bedclothes. But a far more effectual 
sudorific is presented to us in the Turkish bath. The 
patient should expose himself to a heat of from 130° to 
150 Fahrenheit for not less than an hour, and in this 
case the cold douche generally used after the bath should 
be dispensed with, and tepid water used instead. The 
object in view is not only to cause the sweat-pores to 
relax their orifices during the process of sweating, but 
to remain relaxed afterwards. Cold water dashed against 
the skin would tend to produce the contrary effect. 
Cold in the head was known to our ancestors by the 
name of the pose, and to pose is still used in the sense 
of to stupefy. The term was evidently given to the 
disorder from the lassitude and indisposition for one’s 
accustomed work which accompanies it. How slowly 
and by what painful steps knowledge advances ! Only PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
two hundred years ago, the real source of the discharge 
from the head which accompanies a cold was described 
by Schneider. Before his time, the discharge was 
thought to come from the brain! In anatomical 
language, the internal lining of the nose has ever 
since been termed the Schneiderian membrane. 
It has been held by certain writers that what is 
called disease is the expression of a beneficent design, 
as much as the adaptation of organs to their particular 
functions. They point to the eruptions on the skin 
in small-pox and like diseases as being the means 
adopted by nature to throw off from the blood, which 
alone sustains life, some noxious element which had 
gained access to it. They tell us that in other cases 
in which no curative effort is obvious, it is because of 
our ignorance in interpreting nature. They assert that 
when death occurs from disease, it is an accident inci- 
dental to the process to which the vital power succumbs. 
Now, whether this is true in every instance or not— 
and the proof is at present impossible—it seems in 
some instances well borne out. In this very case of 
cold in the head, we see suppressed perspiration, followed 
by febrile disturbance of the system, together with 
retention of materials in the blood which should have 
been thrown out. This is succeeded by a discharge 
from the nostrils containing the same salts as those ex- TAKING COLD. 
279 
creted in perspiration, which are thus in a vicarious 
manner expelled from the blood, and this continues 
until the disturbed balance is restored. 
People often say when they have a cold in the 
head that they have got influenza, and, on the con- 
trary, this is sometimes mistaken for a simple cold. 
Put the two affections are quite distinct in origin 
as well as in effects. It is true that many of the 
symptoms are alike in both, except that they' are 
ah generally much more severe in influenza. It is 
commonly attended by headache, discharge from the 
uostrils, great languor and depression, followed not 
unfreqnently in the aged and the weakly by death. 
Influenza is, in fact, a very serious and often a 
fatal disease. It was described more than two 
thousand years ago by Hippocrates, the father of 
medicine, himself. Truly an epidemic, many of its 
Visitations to this country in former times can be 
accurately traced. These are fortunately not very 
frequent, and have not usually lasted more than a 
month or six weeks at a time. Many theories have 
been advanced to account for influenza. Some have 
attributed it to a disturbance in the electrical con- 
dition of the earth and the atmosphere. One author- 
ity went so far, from confidence in this view, as to 
recommend the use of socks made of oiled silk, or 280 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
some other non-conductor of electricity, as a means 
of guarding against an attack. Others have supposed 
it to be caused by some peculiar miasm in the at- 
mosphere, which, travelling over the earth, accounts 
for the remarkable manner in which, like cholera, 
influenza passes from one country to another. But 
these and other theories are. altogether deficient in 
proof. As in many other things connected with 
disease, we must for the present admit that we do 
not know its cause, and be content to wait until 
patient investigation throws light upon our dark- 
ness. 
One thing, however, we do know, namely, that 
while the origin and progress of cholera and influenza 
have much apparent resemblance, both are also capable 
of being communicated by infection. 
There is another affection, far more prevalent than 
is supposed, which is sometimes mistaken for a com- 
mon cold. It is curious that many substances which 
have no effect whatever on people in general, act most 
injuriously on the air-passages of a few. Thus, some 
persons are at once affected with sneezing, and other 
signs of catarrh, whenever powdered ipecacuanha is 
exposed to the air near them, and even linseed meal 
sometimes acts in the same manner. But of all the 
causes which produce this kind of irritation, none is TAKING COLD. 
281 
so widely diffused as that which is derived from our 
hay-fields in summer. It is now pretty generally 
known that the emanations from hay injuriously affect 
a considerable number of people in a variable degree. 
Some complain merely of symptoms like those of cold 
m the head and eyes, while in others a severe asthma 
18 produced. Whether these effects are due to exhala- 
tions, or to minute particles given off by the hay 
plants, is not certain. Whichever it may be, one 
plant in particular, the sweet-scented vernal grass, 
Anthoxanthum odoratum, has been accused as the chief, 
if not the sole, offender in the matter. 
It too often happens that the effects of taking cold 
are not confined to the nose and its appendages in the 
front of the head. This might be expected, when it 
18 considered that the connections of these portions of 
niucous membrane with others are very extensive. 
There are minute tubes lined with this membrane, 
"which pass from the inner edges of the eyelids, where 
their little apertures can be distinctly seen, to the in- 
terior of the nose. The use of these tubes is to drain 
off any superfluous moisture from the surface of the 
eyes. The nose, too, communicates with the throat, 
and from the throat other tubes extend to the interior 
of the ear. All that concerns the ear and its append- 
ages is treated of in its proper place. It is enough 282 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE-. 
here to indicate that this continuity of structure leads 
to the same affections of the parts concerned. When 
a cold in the head is severe, it is very apt to affect 
the eyes; and when the ear-tubes are obstructed 
from pressure of adjoining parts, which have become 
swollen from inflammation, deafness is caused. 
The mucous membrane of the throat also communi- 
cates not only with the gullet, or passage which leads 
to the stomach and bowels, but by another avenue 
which descends for some distance by the side of the 
gullet to the lungs. This is the windpipe, by which 
the constant renewal of air in the lungs is effected. 
It often happens, then, that the inflamed condition 
of the nose extends to the throat, which is felt stiff 
and slightly sore in the act of swallowing. The ton- 
sils, or glands which stand out at each side of it, 
become enlarged. The inflammation is also now very 
liable to extend more or less into the windpipe. But 
the disorder does not always advance in this particular 
manner. Not only are the nose and its immediate 
appendages sometimes alone attacked, but at other 
times catarrh affects the throat alone, at others the 
windpipe only. Now, whenever the latter is affected, 
we have cough produced in addition to other symp- 
toms. 
Cough indicates irritation in the air-passages of the TAKING COLD. 
283 
lungs. It is caused by a peculiar convulsive motion, 
though the same result can be effected voluntarily, by 
■which the muscles of respiration are made to expel 
forcibly a portion of the air in the lungs. The im- 
mediate cause of cough, as is well known, is a sensa- 
sation in the windpipe, for which it is the natural 
relief. Children call it a tickling in the throat; and it 
is a fact no less interesting than curious, that what- 
ever part of the lungs is affected, as for instance 
when the lower lobe of one lung only is inflamed, 
the local irritation is reflected, telegraphed, so to 
speak, always to the same spot. This spot is situ- 
ated where the windpipe divides into two branches, 
■which go to either lung, corresponding with the 
root of the neck in front. To this appeal, cough, 
either as a single effort, or as many efforts consti- 
tuting a fit of coughing, is the response. In this 
Way the most distant parts of the lungs are relieved, 
for, as shall be presently explained, coughing is of 
itself a salutary act. 
What a beautiful provision, and clear evidence of 
design, is seen in this circumstance! Let it only be 
considered how intolerable would be an irritation in 
the lungs, deeply seated within the body, if the lungs 
were themselves possessed of the same kind of sensibility 
as that which a small part of the windpipe possesses. 284 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
It is easy to see that the use of coughing is to 
free the lungs from fluid which would otherwise choke 
them, and speedily cause death, by interfering with 
respiration. On the other hand, this outpour of 
mucus relieves the congested lining of the air-tubes, 
just as the discharge in a cold of the head relieves 
the interior of the nose. Anything which is foreign 
to the air-tubes will produce cough, as well as an 
excess of mucus. It sometimes happens that such 
things as a bean, a small bone, or piece of money 
held in the mouth, gain admission beneath the valve 
placed at the top of the windpipe for its protection. 
■This produces an intense fit of coughing, and the 
foreign body has not unfrequently been expelled by 
this means. One of the most familiar examples of 
cough produced in this way, is when a portion of our 
drink goes the wrong way. This is invariably attended 
by a suffocating cough, by which the liquid is thrown 
out with much force. 
We have now explained how a cough is a second- 
ary product of a cold, although the terms are often 
used to express the same idea. But, in reality, the 
cough is nature's mode of relieving us from the 
effects of the cold. 
As a cause of disease, taldng cold has a far wider 
significance than is implied in its effects as already TAKING COLD. 
285 
described. These are the most common, and have 
therefore been first explained. But in many instances 
the action of cold is more extensive and far more 
serious. A chief part of this action consists in the 
undue abstraction of animal heat. If this be for 
some time removed more rapidly than it can be 
supplied, the effects upon the vital organs are apt to 
be calamitous. Inflammation of the lungs, acute 
bronchitis, etc., are often thus induced when a man 
falls into water in winter, or when he has the mis- 
fortune to be put to sleep in a damp bed. In such 
cases the danger is always in proportion to the' state 
of his system at that particular time. If the person 
be fatigued by want of rest or over-exertion, or weak 
from want of food, or in any way out of health, the 
risk is much greater. The reason of this is, that the 
nervous power by which the circulation of the blood 
is sustained and controlled is then deficient. And the 
result is, that the vital fluid retreats from its more 
superficial channels, and accumulates in the lungs and 
other internal organs. Congestion—that is, a con- 
dition of excess of blood in the parts—ensues, and 
this is the first step towards inflammation, which, as 
already said, is in vital organs, under such circum- 
stances, no unfrequent sequel. 
Another serious, although seldom fatal, effect of cold. 286 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
is chronic rheumatism. Repeated checks to the perspi- 
ration, and undue abstraction of heat from the body, 
produce in it a condition of pain and swelling of the 
joints, which in some instances make life itself a 
burden. Fishermen, and others, who are liable to have 
their clothes wet through without the power of chang- 
ing them, are very subject to this disease. 
What are the best means to avoid taking cold ? 
Some may be inclined to say, u Avoid all exposure to 
its causes; never go out in wet or damp weather; 
never lie in a damp bed; never become overheated by 
exercise,” etc. Now, even supposing these precepts 
could all be attended to by people in general, which 
is manifestly impossible, it will be found that, as 
often happens, error is here mixed up with truth. It 
is quite certain such a course would not be the best 
preventive, because it would inevitably induce a deli- 
cacy of constitution that would increase the tendency 
to be affected by cold. Even in the case of those 
whose means would permit of it, such a subserviency 
to the state of the weather, in our damp and vari- 
able climate, would become intolerable. We speak of 
those in good health; invalids must, of course, take 
exceptional precautions. No sane person would from 
choice sleep in a damp bed, or remain in clothes 
saturated with rain longer than he could avoid. But taking cold. 
287 
it is in every respect desirable to meet tbe ordinary 
emergencies of weather by acquiring sufficient hardi- 
ness of body to resist them. It is a great disadvan- 
tage to be reduced to the condition of a green-house 
plant; an exotic in our native country, to which we 
ought to be acclimatised. 
The horse affords a familiar example of how com- 
pletely the animal constitution may be altered, and 
indeed impaired, by confinement and well-intended but 
injudicious care. It is necessary, for the sake of the 
sleekness of his coat and general appearance, that he 
should be housed. But his stable is generally much 
too warm, and is badly ventilated. The result is, 
that he is very liable to take cold when standing 
under his master’s carriage in wet and stormy weather. 
Yet horses may be seen standing in the fields, and 
exposed day and night in all weathers, with perfect 
impunity. 
In the same way as so hardy an animal as the horse 
is capable of being made delicate by artificial means, is 
man liable to the same result. The difference in the 
power of resisting the injurious effects of cold is as 
great between an effeminate person and a hardy sailor, 
as it is between a pampered horse and one whose only 
shelter is a hedge. 
The best way, then, to avoid catching cold, although 288 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
it may seem a paradox, is not to be too much afraid 
of cold. Let one's accustomed exercise not be inter- 
rupted, because it is damp or even rains. Let these 
conditions be met by appropriate clothing, and let the 
feet be well protected by strong shoes. This rule 
must be observed, however; when one is out of doors, 
and the body feels cold from the clothes having 
become wet through, it is wrong to remain at rest. 
The danger of a sudden loss of animal heat has been 
previously explained, and this loss is then imminent. 
Evaporation, although produced by heat, is very pro- 
ductive of cold, and it is greatly promoted by a current 
of air. It is on this principle that wine is often 
cooled for the table in hot climates. The bottles con- 
taining it are placed in a strong draught of air, while 
they are covered with a woollen material, which is 
kept constantly wetted. In this way wine can be ob- 
tained almost as cool as by means of ice. Now, in 
the case of a person whose clothes are wet and ex- 
posed to a gale, the conditions are exactly the same; 
instead of the warm wine, there is the warm body 
enclosed in a wetted covering. It is to be remem- 
bered, then, that the risk of catching cold from wet 
clothes is always greater in windy weather. 
Cold may be taken, however, from moisture retained, 
as well as by that which is received. When perspi- TAKING COLD. 
289 
ration is profuse, it saturates the inner clothes, and its 
chilling effects are soon felt if the body is at rest. 
The best mode of avoiding this is to wear clothes of 
loose texture in hot and dry weather, so that the 
escape of perspiration may be promoted as much as 
possible. Flannel, which has been adopted by cricketers 
as the most appropriate dress for their active game, 
is admirably adapted for this purpose. For the opposite 
reason, waterproof clothing is very objectionable, except 
when absolutely required to resist rain. Any one who 
has worn it while taking exercise, will remember the 
uncomfortable state of dampness which it is sure to 
induce. 
Many persons are extremely susceptible of cold from 
getting the feet wet or even damp. Fortunately it is in 
their power to guard against both by simple means; 
cork soles are very valuable preventives so far as con- 
cerns the bottom of the foot, and stout leather will 
insure sufficient protection for the remainder; but 
woollen socks, as being the best non-conductors of heat, 
and withal the least liable to retain perspiration, are 
in such cases indispensable. 
When the lungs are delicate, and especially if a 
person has suffered repeatedly from bronchitis, the 
mere contact of cold air with the air-passages, even 
when he goes from a warm apartment into one of lower 290 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
temperature, has sometimes an injurious effect. In such 
unfortunate cases it may be necessary to submit to 
what is inevitable, and to wear a respirator when out 
of doors. The apparatus is so constructed that the 
entrance of air by the mouth is delayed, owing to its 
passage through a succession of close gratings of wire. 
In this way the air becomes warmed before it is taken 
into the lungs. In cold foggy weather this is especially 
useful. But we are convinced that the instrument is 
often unnecessarily employed. In such cases its use 
only tends to bring on the state of artificial delicacy 
already spoken of. Besides this, if the respirator be 
put aside even for a minute, as must happen to those 
who have business to transact, which requires the 
person to speak, the cold air then gaining access is 
more liable to irritate the lungs than if no precautions 
at all had been taken. The nose is, in fact, the natural 
respirator. One of the uses of its extended surfaces 
and tortuous passages, is to warm a cold atmosphere 
before its admission to the chest. Gatlin, the traveller, 
to whom we are indebted for so much knowledge con- 
cerning the fast-vanishing tribes of North American 
Indians, published a small work, which he called “ The 
Breath of Life.” He observed that the Indians are 
above all things careful to breathe through the nostrils. 
He was so much struck by what he saw and heard TAKING COLD. 
291 
amongst them in reference to this matter, and its 
importance to health, that ho thought it worth while 
to write a book on the subject. 
There is a popular prejudice concerning the evil 
effects of night air, about which a word must be said. 
In her admirable writings on hygiene and the manage- 
ment of the sick. Miss Nightingale has done much to 
correct this mistake. It was formerly the universal 
belief that the air of night was very injurious. But the 
fact is, that, except under certain circumstances, it is as 
healthful, or even more so, than that of the day-time. 
The night air of large cities such as London, when the 
bustle and commotion, which cause it to be loaded 
with dust particles, is comparatively quelled, and the 
numerous fires which contaminate it with their smoke 
are mostly extinguished, is purer than that of the day. 
Nothing conduces more to healthy sleep than good 
ventilation, and no mode of ventilation surpasses that 
obtained by opening a window at the top, by which the 
influence of draught is avoided, while the upper stratum 
of air in the room, to which impurities ascend, is con- 
stantly renewed. 
There is still another reason for at times adopting 
night, even in preference to day, ventilation. In sultry 
weather it is a common mistake to open the windows 
instead of keeping them altogether closed, as is the case 292 
PHYSIOLOGY for practical use. 
in hot climates. A little reflection will show that since 
the height of the thermometer in the sun always 
greatly exceeds that shown at the same time by another 
thermometer placed in the shade, by opening the 
windows we admit air much heated into our rooms. 
The proper time under such circumstances for venti- 
lation is during the night, when the external atmosphere 
has cooled down. By adopting this plan in hot weather, 
the temperature of a room may always be kept several 
degrees lower than if the opposite course is pursued. 
The influence of a draught in giving cold is some- 
times exaggerated. It is seldom, indeed, advisable or 
even safe to remain long exposed to a strong current 
of air. But many persons are so much afraid of even a 
gentle current, that they deny themselves the advantages 
of ventilation. In considering the effects of a draught, 
two things are important. First, the temperature of 
the current of air. A cold current removes the animal 
heat unduly, and if it strikes the body in a particular 
part, not unfrequently causes local rheumatism. But 
the current will be innocuous if it be only warm enough. 
In the tropics, so far from avoiding, people try to get 
into draughts. Arctic voyagers tell us that it is only 
owing to the extraordinary calmness which prevails in 
the polar regions, that the extreme cold can be endured. 
Under the influence of a high wind, the most robust TAKING COLD. 
293 
would soon succumb. Here is a striking proof tbat 
tbe constant renewal of tbe air, when of low tempera- 
ture, in contact with, tbe body, very mucb increases 
its cooling effect. But if tbe atmosphere is itself as 
warm as tbe body, or nearly so, no barm can 
result. 
Secondly, a draught through a small aperture is more 
dangerous than a more diffused one coming through a 
larger space. A Portuguese proverb says, “If you 
catch a cold from draught through a key-hole, you 
should make your will.” A small current of air is the 
most rapid, and it is unnecessary to repeat the reasons 
why this is most likely to give cold. We are no advo- 
cates of the water-cure, or so-called hydropathy, indis- 
criminately applied. But it is the part of a wise 
physician to select from every system that which seems 
to him useful and true. Hydropathy has at all events 
luade one thing popular, namely, that people do not 
necessarily catch cold from sleeping in wet bandages 
or even wet sheets if proper precautions are adopted. 
These precautions consist in placing a sufficient amount 
of dry clothing over that which is wet to prevent any 
chilliness from being experienced by the patient. Here 
is a principle not to be lost sight of; should it be one’s 
misfortune to meet with a damp bed under circum- 
stances in which no other is to be had, let all available 294 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
coverings be placed over it, or at least to the extent 
that the person who occupies it shall feel warm and 
comfortable. He may then defy the damp, and sleep 
in security. 
In another part of this work a description is given 
of the Turkish bath and its uses. It only remains 
here to add, that perhaps no means of hardening the 
body against liability to taking cold is more valuable 
than the hot-air or Turkish bath. We have proved 
this practically in numerous cases. Nor is it difficult 
to understand how this is effected. The apertures of 
the sweat pores are thrown open by the high tempe- 
rature of the bath, and while in this condition are 
suddenly, but only for the instant, closed by the cold- 
water douche with which the process of the bath ends. 
A bracing effect is by this means produced in the skin 
and its pores, by which the tendency to a more per- 
manent contraction is prevented. No danger need ever 
be apprehended from the application of cold water, or 
even, as practised in Russia, of snow to the naked 
body, if it be made immediately after remaining some 
time exposed to a high temperature. If, then, the 
cold-water cure has taught us one important fact, at 
which probably we should not otherwise for a long 
time have arrived, the hot-air bath has instructed us in 
one no less important, and at which our ancestors TAKING COLD. 
295 
would have looked aghast. It is, that no danger of 
taking cold need be apprehended when the body, 
already bathed in perspiration, is immersed in the 
coldest water. XII. 
INFLUENZA. 
The disorder we have at present to deal with in many 
respects resembles a common cold, and under this head 
something has been said about influenza. A description 
of the local affections there given, is to a great extent 
applicable to influenza, and need not be repeated here. 
Indeed, a great mistake is often made in confounding 
the two affections. Perhaps it is that the prettiness 
of the name misleads; but this is certain, that true 
influenza is a much more serious malady than is generally 
supposed. The disease is an epidemic, and, fortunately, 
its visitations are not very frequent. 
In the days when philosophers believed that things 
on earth were governed by the heavens, the present 
malady was attributed to the influence of the stars, and 
the Italians gave it the name of “ Influenza”—pre- 
eminently the influence—and this term has been adopted 
into English. The grippe, or the seizure, the name by 
which it is known to the French, is more descriptive. 
The primary symptoms of influenza are much the 
same as those of ordinary catarrh. The patient has a INFLUENZA, 
297 
sense of tension in the forehead; his eyes become watery, 
and he sneezes. Discharge from the nose, cough, and 
oppression at the chest, soon ensue. But the chief 
characteristics of influenza are a dull pain in the fore- 
head, which is very oppressive, and an extraordinary 
prostration of strength, with mental depression, listless- 
uess, indisposition for the least exertion, and utter want 
of appetite. The skin is generally moist, and the per- 
spirations which occur are not critical, as they seem to 
be in certain cases of fever. As the disease advances, 
the discharge from the nose irritates the upper lip, so 
as to make it red and tumid; the sense of taste is in 
general impaired. The disease usually lasts four or five 
days, and, when it subsides, the patient not unfrequently 
finds himself as much weakened as if he had gone 
through a long fever. Weeks often elapse before he has 
regained his original tone and vigour. 
Such is a sketch of influenza, as it generally shows 
itself; but it varies a good deal in different epidemics. 
Sometimes the symptoms do not exceed those of a 
common cold; at other times, in addition to severe head- 
ache, there are piercing pleuritic pains of the side, as- 
sociated with inflammation of the lungs. Uever runs 
high, and there is nightly delirium. Under such circum- 
stances, many patients are carried off. It is remarkable 
that the very young and the very old are less liable to 298 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
the disease than the strong and the middle-aged; hut 
when the disease seizes the aged, or those debilitated 
by other diseases, they often die from its effects. 
Influenza is a disease of depression, and requires 
supporting treatment. Centuries before it was dis- 
covered that the lancet could be almost altogether dis- 
pensed with, it was found that bleeding was deadly, 
in this disease. (e Where blood was let,” says an old 
author, “ the disease proved malignant and pestilential, 
being attended with a violent, cruel, and unheard-of 
malignity, and made bad work.” We are told by the 
same author, speaking of the epidemic of 1557, that 
in the small town of Mantua Carpentaria, three miles 
from Madrid, where the disorder raged with uncommon 
severity, “ two thousand were let blood of, and all died.” 
In this account we have had a sad exemplification, not 
only of the danger of routine practice, but of the diffi- 
culty experienced in throwing off old traditions. Given 
a tradition that every kind of feverish excitement can 
be only treated successfully by withdrawing a portion 
of the vital fluid from the body, and the responsibility 
of breaking down the tradition becomes enormous. No 
one will dare not to bleed, lest the patient should suffer 
from the omission, and no chance is left for ascertaining 
that what is intended to cure in reality kills. We live 
in days enlightened by the mishaps and the experience INFLUENZA. 
299 
of the past, and from these we have learned that to 
husband and improve the quality of the vital fluid is 
the most successful treatment in all diseases accompanied 
by debility. Good beef-tea, then, with a fair allowance 
of generous wine, quinine, and other tonics, are the best 
remedies for influenza. Complications, such as inflam- 
mation of some important organ, require of course special 
treatment. 
Unlike epidemic cholera, which seems to be of com- 
paratively modern origin, influenza possesses a long 
lineage, and pierces the depths of antiquity. Hippocrates, 
the father of medicine, mentions the disease. In the 
ff Annals of the Four Masters,” an Irish manuscript of 
the fifteenth century, it is stated to have been epidemic 
in Ireland in the previous century. It was very fatal in 
France in 1311; and in 1403, the law-courts in Paris 
were closed on account of the deaths which it caused. 
In the sixteenth century, epidemics were very preva- 
lent in England. Sweating sickness and influenza at 
various times devastated the land. There can be no 
doubt, that to the habits of our ancestors, and the little 
regard paid to sanitary matters, the great mortality was 
mainly due. There is a curious letter extant, written by 
Erasmus to the physician of Cardinal Wolsey, in which 
this matter is touched with the hand of far-seeing genius. 
Erasmus says that he is grieved, and wonders how it hap- PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
pens, that Britain has for so many years been afflicted 
with continual plagues. He complains that the English 
have no regard to the aspect of their windows or doors, 
and that their rooms are so constructed as to be incapable 
of being ventilated. The streets, he adds, are covered 
with clay and rushes, which are so seldom removed that 
the covering sometimes remains for twenty years, and 
that beneath this covering is a layer of filth not fit to 
be mentioned; a most unwholesome vapour is exhaled 
from this. He adds, that it is his firm opinion that the 
island would become much more wholesome if the cham- 
bers were built so as to be exposed to the air on two 
or three sides, the glass windows being made to open. 
It would contribute also to health, he says, if more 
sparing diet was used and less salt provisions were con- 
sumed. 
Happily we can make a cheering comment on this 
remarkable letter. Drainage, ventilation, and the food 
of the people have, since the time of Erasmus, been 
immensely improved, although finality in these'matters 
has not by any means been reached. The results have, 
however, been most gratifying, as the bills of mortality 
prove. Certain epidemics, in obedience to some un- 
known laws, at uncertain intervals still sweep over the 
land, despoiled of much of their power. But the plague 
has been long unknown amongst us; typhus is almost INFLUENZA. 
confined to those who are destitute of the ordinary com- 
forts and conveniences of life; and, owing to the treat- 
ment having been at length better understood, joined 
with a better comprehension of the laws of life, influenza 
is now only exceptionally fatal. If, then, we have lately 
expended upon the drainage of London alone, the be- 
wildering sum of seven millions sterling,—bewildering if 
any attempt is made to grasp the details of the huge 
outlay,—let it be some consolation to the householder, 
who is in consequence saddled with a tax that will more 
than outlast his own life, that he is paying for increased 
longevity. The length of life in England slowly but 
steadily increases. The incontrovertible reports of the 
Registrar-General prove this. 
We are as much in the dark as to the real cause of 
epidemics as Hippocrates confesses himself to have been 
more than 2,000 years ago. Failing to account for them 
hy any known physical agency, he attributes them, with 
a feeling of religion which does him honour, to Divine 
interposition. The great Sydenham also confesses his 
ignorance on this subject, but thought that they may be 
due to “ some occult and inexplicable changes wrought in 
the bowels of the earth itself, by which the atmosphere 
became contaminated with certain effluvia which pre- 
dispose the bodies of men to some form of disease.-” 
That influenza does not depend on weather is very PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
plain. It lias broken out at all seasons of the year and 
when the temperature has been at both extremes, and 
it has advanced in a particular direction in the teeth 
of prevailing winds. Electricity, which, like the Gulf 
Stream, is called upon to account for many things with 
which it has nothing whatever to do, has been supposed 
by many writers to be the exciting cause of this disease. 
One thing which favours the idea of some such cause 
as electricity is the suddenness with which the disease 
attacks at the same time a large number of people. 
Several instances of this will be afterwards related. 
This suddenness of attack is sufficient to prove that 
influenza, even if it be infectious, which is doubtful, 
is not propagated essentially by infection. It is ascer- 
tained that a person who has suffered from influenza, 
derives therefrom no immunity from being attacked in a 
succeeding epidemic of the disease. 
Influenza generally attacks a large proportion of the 
inhabitants of a country which it visits. Women are 
less liable to it than men, probably on account of their 
being less exposed to the weather. The ages between 
ten and sixty supply most cases. The low parts of 
towns are more seriously affected than the higher and 
better drained parts. There can be no doubt but that 
it is caused by a specific poison, which either emanates 
from the earth or pervades the atmosphere. One proof INFLUENZA. 
that it is due to some general cause consist in this,— 
that it has been often observed that the lower animals 
have suffered from an illness more or less resembling it 
during the prevalence of influenza. Various strange na- 
tural phenomena have also been associated with it, but 
it is probable that in many of the cases these associations 
were merely coincidences. We shall afterwards mention 
some occurrences of the kind. Whatever may be the 
exact nature of the cause which produces the disease, it 
is certain that it progresses in definite directions. The 
East seems to be the home of epidemics. It is from 
that quarter that cholera travels, until it reaches the 
western countries. Influenza pursues a like course, and 
the ocean, as we shall see, presents no barriers to it. 
After having pervaded Europe, if usually passes over to 
America, beginning at the parts nearest to the Old 
World from which it started. 
We possess details of many well-marked visitations of 
influenza. Some of the most remarkable were those of 
1680, 1732, 1782, 1803, and 1836. 
The epidemic of 1580 was very severe. Great num- 
bers were destroyed by it all over Europe. In England 
it was preceded by earthquakes, and a comet also 
appeared. Other prodigies are mentioned in connection 
with it. A prodigious number of insects, supposed to 
rise out of the earth, filled the air; but, most strange of PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
all, “in Kent and tlie marshes of Essex was a sore plague 
of strange mice suddenly covering the earth, and gnaw- 
ing the grass roots. . . . No wit nor art of man 
could destroy these mice, till another flight of owls came 
and killed them all. A great earthquake in Porin'” 
Such is the curious mixture of truth with exaggeration 
which our annals contain. 
The epidemic of 1732 made its appearance about the 
middle of November in northern Germany, and before 
the end of February, 1733, had reached Naples and Spain, 
having in the meantime overrun all Europe. In the 
middle of the following October it arrived in New 
England, and thence turned southwards to Barbadoes, 
Jamaica, Mexico, and Peru. 
The epidemic of 1782 was traced from India, where 
it seems to have prevailed in October, 1781, to have 
reached Moscow in December of the same year, and 
St. Petersburg in the following January. It was in 
Denmark in the latter end of April, and arrived in 
London by the second week of May. This epidemic 
arrested great attention, both on account of its severity 
and its almost universal diffusion. A great many 
persons died from it. 
The following incident, which occurred at this time, 
shows that the poison of influenza probably advances 
like a wave, and thus at once involves whole communities. INFLUENZA. 
The occurrence also proves that, as already said, infection 
is insufficient to account for its propagation. Captain 
Kelly, of the Fly sloop of war, weighed anchor about 
ten in the morning, with a crew of 145 men; but before 
six the same evening, forty were laid up with influenza, 
and he was obliged to return to Yarmouth Roads the next 
morning through want of hands to navigate the ship. 
Several of the men fell at the wheel and were carried 
below, and not a single man on board escaped attack. 
Another marine incident in this epidemic is to the 
same effect. On May 2, Admiral Kempenfelt sailed with 
a squadron from Spithead. On the 29th of that month 
the crew of one of his vessels was attacked with in- 
fluenza, and the others suffered in succession to such a 
degree, that the whole squadron was obliged to return to 
port early in June. They had, in the meantime, cruised 
only between the coasts of England and France, and no 
communication with any land had been held. About the 
same time another large squadron, in perfect health, 
sailed from Holland under Lord Howe's command. The 
disease broke out in this fleet just at the same time as it 
did in the one previously mentioned, although in the last 
case also no intercourse had been held with land. 
It is related by Kirkby and Spence, in their “ Ento- 
mology/' that the brown-tail moth that year occasioned 
such devastations in the neighbourhood of London, that PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
rewards were offered for collecting the caterpillars, and 
that it was the duty of overseers of parishes to see them 
burnt by bushels. 
In 1803, the British Islands were again invaded by a 
very severe epidemic of influenza. It came to us from 
the Continent, as on previous occasions. It commenced 
in London, and in about three months was generally 
diffused over England. Horses, cows, dogs, and even 
cats, were attacked with an analogous disorder, and many 
were carried off. On April 26, a remarkable meteoric 
shower occurred at L’Aigle in Normandy. The stones 
were counted by thousands, and the largest weighed 
lbs. The sheep-farms of Tweedale were devastated 
by caterpillars, which devoured the grass. Bed rain 
and snow were observed to have fallen in many parts 
of the south of Europe.' The reddish dust which caused 
this appearance contained eighteen species of animalcules. 
Dr. Darwin states that “the sun was many weeks ob- 
scured by a dry fog, and appeared red as through 
a common mist.” He adds that “the material which 
thus rendered the air muddy, probably caused the 
epidemic catarrh which prevailed in that year.” 
The last well-marked epidemic of influenza broke 
out in this country in 1836, and lasted about four months. 
The disease occurred in a severe form, and it was cal- 
culated that three thousand persons died of it in Dublin, INFLUENZA. 
besides those who, although they got over the immediate 
attack, sank under diseases induced by the epidemic. 
It was coincident with cholera, into which it passed 
m many instances; for during this year that much- 
dreaded disease returned, -after a short interval, to 
our shores. An epidemic also prevailed amongst cattle 
and sheep. 
Much more might be written of the history and nature 
of influenza, hut enough has been said to show that a 
disease, in the name of which there is something mild 
and euphonious, is in reality a fierce and too often a 
dangerous visitor. XIII. 
HEADACHE. 
It is a rare thing to find any one who does not occa- 
sionally suffer from headache. In its minor forms it 
is a very common disorder. But headache is not always 
in any sense a trifling ailment. Too often it is a very 
severe one, and occasionally portends serious mischief. 
The nature of pain is discussed elsewhere in this 
work. At present we have to deal with pain localized in 
the head. And since this pain exists in close proximity 
with the brain, the centre organ of the nervous system 
by which the mind works, we learn why it is that 
headache, in relation to its severity, causes more con- 
stitutional disturbance than other kinds of pain, and 
also why it is so frequently accompanied by mental 
dulnsss and confusion. 
There are good reasons for believing that the pain 
is seldom, if ever, seated in the brain itself, while it is 
clear that in many cases it is external to it. 
This strangely-formed, white, pulpy, mysterious mass, 
possesses no common sensibility. If exposed by the 
destruction of. a portion of the skull, as has sometimes HEADACHE. 
occurred in the human subject, it may be touched 
with impunity. If it be strongly pressed upon, the 
result is not pain, but total unconsciousness so long as 
the pressure is continued. Inflammation of the mem- 
branes by which the brain is protected—and it is 
enveloped in no less than three of these, one within the 
other—is, however, attended by severe pain. We must 
look for the seat of ordinary headache in the nerves, 
which have their origin in the brain, and which radiate 
in all directions about the head. 
Headache is, perhaps, always symptomatic; that is, 
dependent upon and indicative of some other affection. 
But as it is often the most marked and distressing 
symptom present, it happens that it is often looked 
upon and treated as the main disorder. 
Headaches are due to various causes, and for the 
present purpose the best classification will be one 
founded on this circumstance. It will suffice to 
describe only those kinds most commonly met with, 
and which will prove with so many readers to be old 
acquaintances. These are—• 
Headache from indigestion, popularly called side 
headache. 
Nervous headache. 
Headache from fulness of blood in the head. 
Rheumatic headache. PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
The well-known sick headache is not confined to any 
particular sex or constitution, but belongs especially to 
the early years of adult and to middle life. Some per- 
sons are much more subject to it than others, while a 
few seem to be entirely exempt from the disorder. It 
is, however, the penalty which a large proportion have 
to pay for any unusual indulgence of appetite. This 
headache is often preceded by a sense of chilliness: 
while the feet are cold, and face and forehead are 
flushed and hot. A dull heavy pain, with a sensation 
of weight and fulness, is experienced in the fore part of 
the head. The temporal arteries throb with violence, 
and this throbbing is felt in the pain. Sometimes the 
pain moves into one temple, or into the eyeball of one 
eye. The patient is generally very irritable, and light 
and noise increase his suffering. He seeks darkness 
and silence, content to suffer in solitude. There is total 
want of appetite nothing but perhaps a cup of tea 
is taken throughout the day during which the attack con- 
tinues. Distressing nausea and a sense of rising in the 
stomach greatly aggravate his suffering. At length 
this ends in vomiting, attended by violent straining. 
The contents of the stomach, which are first discharged, 
are often found but partially reduced, although they 
have lain in the organ long beyond the usual period 
required for complete digestion. Afterwards a viscid HEADACHE. 
and intensely disagreeable fluid is alone ejected; and 
if tbe vomiting be further continued, bile is at last 
brought up. This bile was not, however, present in 
the stomach until the violent straining had been com- 
municated to the adjoining portion of the intestine 
into which the bile is discharged from the gall-bladder. 
At first the act of vomiting greatly increases the head- 
ache. The return of blood from the head is impeded 
by the muscular straining, and already more blood 
than usual is lodged within the skull. But as soon 
as the stomach has got rid of its acrid contents, 
and the vomiting ceases, relief is experienced. Sleep, 
that best of all restoratives, now comes on, and the 
patient awakes after some time, still somewhat exhausted, 
but free from pain. 
Such is a description of a common form of suffering. 
It is called sick headache from its constant association 
with disordered stomach. What, then, is to blame for 
its occurrence ; and how is it to be averted ? In a 
certain number of instances the answer is easy, and 
the remedy almost as easily applied, by avoiding those 
articles of diet which each person has learned from 
experience are injurious to his stomach. There is 
hardly any individual who has not discovered that cer- 
tain articles must be regarded by him in this light, 
and the older he grows, the more he finds it necessary 312 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
to add to the list. ce A man is either a fool or a phy- 
sician at forty,” was the memorable saying of a Roman 
emperor, in reference to this very matter. No general 
rules are applicable, because the proverb, “ What’s one 
man’s meat is another man’s poison,” is also true. Still 
there are particular articles which very generally dis- 
agree with persons of weak digestion. Hashes and all 
rich highly-seasoned made dishes are of this class. 
Mixing up in the stomach along with a meal already 
too varied, ices, luscious sweatmeats and creams, as is 
commonly done, is always injurious. But quantity is no 
less to be considered than quality. A person may some- 
times eat a little of a number of articles with impunity, 
while a greater quantity of a less number of articles 
would seriously disagree with his stomach. The man 
who, for the temporary gratification of eating more than 
he knows he can easily digest, and knowing too that if 
he does not so digest, he must suffer long afterwards, is 
without doubt a fool. A long chapter might be written 
on the folly of injudicious feasting. 
Indigestion is of course not always attended or fol- 
lowed by headache. Many persons suffer terribly in 
the stomach without any trouble of the kind. It is only 
in those cases—and they are very numerous—in which 
the head is a weak point, in other words susceptible, 
that headache occurs. Now, there are two ways of ex- HEADACHE. 
313 
plaining the mode in which headache is produced by in- 
digestion, and there can be no doubt that both come 
into operation. 
First, there is an intimate and direct connection by 
means of nerves between the stomach and the head. 
When, therefore, the nerves distributed over the internal 
lining of the stomach are irritated because they are in- 
volved in the general irritation of this lining, the mor- 
bid effect is transmitted to the head, and there makes 
itself known as headache. One form of the disorder, 
that in which headache comes on immediately after 
food has been taken, can be attributed to no other 
source. 
Secondly, imperfect digestion tends to make the 
blood itself impure. Let it be remembered that the sole 
purpose of digestion is to supply the vital fluid with 
fresh material for the support of the body. But if the 
blood be tainted by the absorption of ill-prepared nutri- 
ment, the brain, which is of all our organs the most 
easily affected by the circulation through it of impure 
blood, will suffer. In this way pain is developed, if not 
in the brain itself, in the nerves which it sends off, and 
which are so abundantly distributed in its immediate 
neighbourhood. 
There is perhaps no more certain cause of headache 
than taking stimulants in excess, especially if different PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
kinds be indulged in. The well-known headache on the 
morning following the indiscretion is unquestionably due 
to impurities which the excreting organs have as yet been 
unable to separate from the blood. 
It may be here remarked that the circulation in the 
brain of impure blood, from its haying been supplied with 
ill-prepared chyle, in other words, with a solution of 
badly digested food, offers an easy explanation of other 
facts. It shows how the mind itself becomes dulled by 
indigestion—how the memory becomes impaired and the 
thoughts confused. It explains the groundless appre- 
hensions and suspicions which haunt the morbid imagi- 
nation of the hypochondriac. This also indicates how in 
most cases dizziness, dark images before the eyes, 
and numerous other head affections are produced. 
There is a form of headache which seems to depend 
on indigestion, since it is attended by the same kind of 
stomach derangement as that described, in which the 
connection between cause and effect is not always easy 
to trace. Like the other, too, it is often called bilious 
headache, because bile makes its appearance, as already 
explained, in the vomited matters. People otherwise 
quite healthy are not unfrequently the subjects of it. 
It is sometimes strangely periodic in its attacks. A 
person will tell you, “1 cannot keep such and such an 
engagement, because I shall hgwe my headache on that HEADACHE. 
315 
day/’ yet the interval between the attacks may vary 
from one to several weeks. This may happen too when 
great care is taken in diet as well as in other respects. 
Yet indications are seldom wanting that the natural 
functions of digestion are previously disordered. This 
headache is usually preceded by constipation of the 
bowels, and a timely purgative will in many instances 
for the present ward off an attack. It seems, in fact, 
as if the unaided bodily machine was unable to keep 
going without derangement beyond a limited time. In 
most instances it is a very refractory disorder, and 
many of those who have been subject to it for a long 
period resign themselves to their fate; they simply 
seek for some alleviation by remaining in bed in a 
darkened room on the day during which generally the 
attack lasts. 
Nervous headache is the kind to which persons of the 
nervous temperament are particularly subject. The out- 
ward characteristics of this temperament are not diffi- 
cult to define. The form may be rounded, but is not 
muscular, the features are refined and impressionable, the 
spirits easily elevated and as easily depressed. There is 
great susceptibility both of body and mind, and yet both 
may be surprisingly equal to a great emergency. Hence it 
is that the softer sex is especially liable to nervous head- 
aches, and the peculiar functions of the female organi- PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
zation increase this tendency throughout a great part of 
life. The consequence of all this is, that women suffer 
from headache much more frequently than men. 
Like sick headache, nervous headache varies in 
severity. At times the whole mass of the brain seems 
invaded by throbbing pain, while at others the pain is 
much less acute and quite local. It more frequently 
attacks the upper and back parts of the head than sick 
headache. A great many physical causes will induce 
it, and few are more likely to do so than bad ventilation. 
It is this which makes going to a theatre with many per- 
sons equivalent to going to get a headache. The con- 
tamination of the atmosphere caused by its having been 
breathed and rebreathed by a large number of people, 
is partly the cause, and in addition the great number of 
gaslights unduly consumes the oxygen of the air, 
while the products of the gaseous combustion are 
poisonous. This is so sensibly felt by many persons 
that headache is sure to come on if they remain even for 
a short time in any gas-lighted room. 
Particular states of the atmosphere at large are also 
very productive of headache. Many are affected when 
it is damp . and foggy, others when it is dry and search- 
ing. The east wind is in this way an enemy to some. 
The climate of certain localities makes a great difference. 
We have known instances in which the comparatively HEADACHE, 
bracing air of Brighton could not be endured on ac- 
count of headache. The more relaxing atmosphere of 
South Devonshire is equally injurious to others. The 
electrical state of the air has also a powerful effect. 
Some persons get headache at the approach of a 
thunderstorm, which, although they may be in bed at 
the time, they can foretell by this means alone. 
The foregoing may be regarded as causes which in 
various ways disturb without exhausting the nervous 
power; but there is another set of potent causes 
which exhaust as well as disturb it—excitement, even 
of a pleasurable kind, in very susceptible persons; de- 
pression caused by grief, anxiety, or disappointment, 
night-watching, over-fatigue, long-fasting, and cold feet, 
are all well-known causes of headache. 
As may be supposed, the causes which produce sick 
or bilious headache may be combined with those of 
nervous headache. The complication in such cases 
renders the disorder more intractable. 
Hysteria is the cause of a singular form of headache. 
Spasmodic pain is first experienced in the abdomen, 
from which it extends to the throat and head. 
Sometimes the headache occupies a mere spot in some 
part of the head, and the pain is then very intense. It 
was from these circumstances that it was termed 
clavus, or the nail, by the old writers. By this is PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
intended to be expressed that the pain is like that 
which might be caused by a nail driven into the head. 
The suddenness of the attack is in these cases re- 
markable, and it subsides, usually after eructation of 
gas from the stomach, with equal abruptness. 
Allied to nervous headache is that caused by resi- 
dence in a malarious country. It is, in fact, one of 
the phenomena of ague, but the true ague fit may bo 
entirely wanting. This headache is generally periodic, 
and attacks one side only of the head. Megrims is 
the popular name for a kind of headache to which 
women are more especially liable, and which, although 
intermittent, and often observing regular intervals, is 
caused by some kind of nervous exhaustion such as 
has been already described. 
Headache from fulness of blood in the head affects 
those especially who are of the sanguine temperament 
and plethoric habit. Such persons are of stout build, 
they have red faces and short necks, and although 
commonly regarded as “pictures of health,” too often 
present a deceptive appearance. 
Nature has taken great pains to prevent congestion, 
that is, an undue accumulation of blood within the 
skull. But. on this subject it would be out of place 
here to enter into details. It will suffice to say that 
the proper action of the brain depends on a properly HEADACHE. 
regulated supply of blood. Now, a disturbance of the 
balance occurs from two causes-—either there is too 
much blood in the entire system, as sometimes happens 
in plethoric individuals, or else there is relatively too 
much blood in the head. Both conditions may give 
rise to headache, but the last is that which is far more 
common, and therefore concerns us most. 
Many causes induce a determination of blood to the 
head in those predisposed to it. Violent passions and 
emotions of the mind, intemperance, heated rooms, 
long continuance of the stooping posture, etc., are 
amongst the number. But no cause is more pro- 
ductive of it than direct over-stimulation of the brain. 
Every literary man knows that if he works beyond a 
certain point, his head becomes hot and throbbing, 
his thoughts dull and confused, and if he still persist 
m his labours, headache is sure to follow. Now these 
results, it will be found, do not depend so much on 
the time during which the attention is occupied in a 
given direction, as upon the amount of work imposed 
upon the brain. Four hours* continuous reading will 
not have the same effect as if the same time had been 
devoted to original composition. Blood is the proper 
stimulus of the brain; and when it is in an active 
state, and thoughts are being elaborated, it contains 
more blood than when in the comparatively passive PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE., 
condition of comprehending the thoughts evolved by 
the brains of others. The immediate cause of sleep, 
which, when sound, implies total inaction of the brain, 
is that the brain becomes comparatively bloodless; when, 
on the other hand, the brain is most active, it contains 
most blood. Here, then, is a matter for the serious 
consideration of all who live by their brains. The 
delicate organ gives a timely warning of overwork in 
the headache which it causes. And if the brain be 
habitually ill-treated in spite of warnings, there is 
great danger of the congestion becoming permanent 
and the headache chronic. 
Rheumatic headache differs from the other kinds 
described, in its cause, its nature, and in the parts 
affected. It always proceeds from exposure of the 
head to cold; the pain is dull and heavy, and is al- 
ways worst at night. It affects both the front and 
the back of the head, and is apt to shift about. It is 
seated in the muscles of the head, and affects especially 
their tendinous structures, and the painful parts are 
very tender on pressure. But there is neither heat 
nor throbbing; on the contrary, it is often accompanied 
by a sensation of cold. This form of headache belongs 
to the rheumatic- constitution, and usually attends those 
who have suffered from rheumatism in other parts of 
the body. HEADACHE. 
As for the more inveterate and fortunately more 
rare forms of headache, dependent on organic disease 
of the brain, we do not at present take them into 
account. 
It will be well to say a few words in conclusion, as 
to the prevention of, and the simpler remedies for, 
headaches. In every case, however, in which the attack 
is violent and repeated, skilled advice should be sought. 
We have already said that headaches are symptomatic, 
and no time should be lost in ascertaining the real 
seat of disease. 
As for headaches dependent on indigestion, we may 
once more say, that attention to diet is of the greatest 
importance. Nothing will compensate for the want of 
this : but in addition, fresh air and exercise, and the 
avoidance of everything which interferes with health 
and therefore with digestion, are indispensable. The 
same observations apply to the treatment of nervous 
headaches. Whatever tends to keep the general health 
at the highest possible point, will, in the same pro- 
portion, diminish the headache. Coldness of the feet 
should always be guarded against. A nervous head- 
ache is sometimes removed by keeping the feet for 
some minutes in water as warm as can possibly be 
home. In other cases a good cup of tea is very useful. 
Tea, however, being a nerve stimulant, the repeated 322 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
use of which is followed by nervous depression, should 
not be used too freely, because it tends to perpetuate 
the very disorder which it is employed to relieve. 
Twenty drops of sal volatile in a little water are not 
injurious, and are frequently very efficacious. In cases 
of headache from immediate exhaustion or fatigue, nu- 
tritious food and wine are the best remedies. Some of 
the headaches caused by too much blood in the brain 
are those which more particularly concern the medical 
practitioner. As for such as are due to over mental 
exertion, the remedy is in every one’s own power. Let 
it be remembered that while the brain tires just as do 
the arms and legs, over-exercise of the brain, for reasons 
previously given, is much more injurious than over- 
exercise of the muscles. 
For rheumatic headache the best domestic remedy 
is warmth, and this the patient instinctively seeks. 
This, when the pain is severe, may be advantageously 
supplemented by a mustard poultice applied as near 
the affected part as the hair will permit. XIV. 
jSLEEP. 
Sleep is as necessary to existence as food, and yet 
sleep is in fact a partial suspension of some of the 
functions of life itself. All these functions are per- 
formed with intermissions. Best is in some way or 
other provided in every instance. Respiration and the 
circulation of the blood never cease for a single mi- 
nute from birth until they are still in death. Notwith- 
standing this, the heart reposes during about one- 
fourth of life, and the lungs are inactive during about 
one-third of the same time. In the case of the heart, 
this is effected by an interval of rest which occurs 
between each combined act of contraction and ex- 
pansion, and the beginning of a fresh act; and in 
that of the lungs, by a period of repose between each 
expiration and the succeeding inspiration. The sto- 
mach, the liver, and the various other glands have also 
their times of rest. 
“ Blessings on him/’ says Sancho Panza, “ who in- 
vented sleep.” This is a sentiment in which all the 
World will agree. Sleep is, indeed, as much the true 324 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
remedy for the troubles and worries of the mind, as 
it is for the fatigues of the body. In every one’s life 
there are occasions when the gloom of the present is 
only exceeded by the darkness of the future. If 
there were no such thing as sleep, a man would suc- 
cumb either mentally or bodily; he would die of ex- 
hausted nervous power, or if it were possible for him 
to live, would become a maniac. 
After some hours of the deepest mental distress, 
relief is usually brought by sleep, and the sufferer 
feels his exhausted powers revive., He wakes with the 
memory of his troubles still present to his mind, but 
also feeling that he is better prepared to face them. 
The keenness by which they wound him is somewhat 
blunted j and this gradual process of blunting is 
nightly repeated. Thus, by causing intermission in 
our troubles, it is that tired nature’s sweet restorer” 
reanimates our drooping spirit. 
The immediate cause of sleep—that is, the mechan- 
ism in the body by which it is produced—was until 
recently quite misunderstood. It was formerly sup- 
posed that pressure on the brain afforded the explan- 
ation. Most writers on the subject have adopted this 
view, and some of the facts by which it is supported 
are very striking. Apoplexy is caused either by un- 
natural fulness of the vessels in the brain, or by the SLEEP. 
325 
rupture of a vessel which, allows the escape of blood, 
and in either case pressure on the organ is estab- 
lished by one of them. This affection is attended by 
drowsiness, or by complete unconsciousness, according 
to the degree of pressure thus exerted. From this 
fact it has been inferred that sleep is caused by 
accumulation of blood in the head; and in support 
of this view certain other facts have been advanced, 
such as, that full-blooded people are usually the best 
sleepers, and that the recumbent position which pro- 
motes the flow of blood to the brain, induces sleep. 
In accordance with these views, an ingenious theory 
was proposed to account for sleep. The brain is 
formed double; that is to say, of two equal portions 
or hemispheres, each having the same shape, one of 
which is placed at each side of the skull. Imbedded 
m each of these hemispheres, there is a cavity called 
a ventricle, and in each ventricle lies a peculiar agglo- 
meration of flaccid-looking blood-vessels, as seen in 
the dead body, called the choroid plexus. Now it was 
supposed that when sleep took place, these vessels 
became so greatly distended with blood as to fill up 
and make pressure upon the sides of the cavities, 
and that this pressure continued so long as sleep 
continued. Many instances have occurred in which a 
portion of the brain has been laid bare by acci- 326 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
dent, or as a curative measure. Iu a case of this 
sort it is always found that consciousness can be in- 
stantly suppressed by pressure upon the brain. This 
was supposed to give strong confirmation to the pres- 
sure theory of sleep. But there is a wide difference 
between stupor and sleep; the one is a result of 
diseased action, and it is difficult or impossible to 
rouse the person from it, while the other is a natural 
state, from which he is easily aroused. 
It has now been determined, that so far from con- 
taining more blood than usual, the brain during sleep 
contains much less blood. We are told on very high 
authority, that “ the blood is the life ” of the body, 
and the tendency of modern physiology is to regard 
the blood as the origin of all force, and of all the 
functions in the system. Now when the circulation 
in the brain is diminished, it becomes deprived of the 
proper stimulus by which its state of activity is 
maintained; its vitality, in fact, becomes lowered, and 
it sinks into a state of quiescence. It then obtains 
rest, which during our waking hours it never has 
for a single instant. And it is doubtless during 
sleep that the waste the brain has previously under- 
gone is repaired, and that the injuries inflicted upon 
it by over-exertion are made good. For it must be 
borne in mind that every act of life, whether it be SLEEP. 
327 
the motion of the hand which guides the pen in 
Writing this sentence, or the action in the brain, 
which conceives it, is accompanied by waste. 
The proofs that sleep depends on a comparatively 
bloodless state of the brain, have been chiefly derived 
from experiments on the lower animals. And here 
we must at once meet an objection that has been 
raised on the score of cruelty, and that such pro- 
ceedings are unjustifiable. First, it must be remem- 
bered that the operative portions of all experiments 
of the kind are conducted while the animals are 
under the influence of chloroform, by the benign 
effects of which all pain is annihilated. Secondly, 
while we regard with abhorrence the unnecessary 
mutilation of any creature, we are as decidedly of 
opinion that it is proper and justifiable under certain 
circumstances. The close analogy in structure which 
exists between man and the lower animals, has, by 
means of experiments on the latter, led to a greatly 
extended knowledge of the human functions. There 
has been so much lately of what we regard as a 
mistaken advocacy of the rights of the lower animals 
in this matter, that we have been tempted to digress 
thus much in order to state plainly our own convic- 
tions before the experiments to be now mentioned are 
brought before the reader. 328 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Portions of tlie skull have been removed from 
living dogs, by experimentalists in this country, in 
Prance, and in America. By this means the brain 
has been laid open to accurate observation. It has 
been determined that when the dog sleeps the ex- 
posed brain collapses, that it sinks within the skull; 
when, on the other hand, the animal is awake, and 
especially if excited, the exposed brain swells out, 
and sometimes even protrudes beyond the aperture in 
the skull. 
These observations are supported by what may be 
easily verified, but in a less evident degree, in the 
human subject. There exists in the infant, for a con- 
siderable time after birth, at the top of the head, 
where the angles of the separate portions of which 
the skull is composed do not meet, a small space as 
yet unclosed by bone, and only covered by the pro- 
per membranes of the brain and the outside skin. 
When the infant is pleasurably excited, or when it 
screams from passion or from pain, this part may be 
observed to swell out, and when asleep it will be 
seen to sink below the level which, it assumes in the 
tranquil state while he is awake. 
Prom these and other considerations, it is now the 
most generally received opinion, that sleep is caused 
by a withdrawal of blood from the brain. SLEEP. 
329 
It is certain that sleep, or at least an intermittent 
cessation of functional activity, is a necessity of life 
throughout nature. Every one is familiar with the 
mode in which many plants close their flowers at the 
approach of night; and some, as the trefoil, sleep 
with their leaflets folded together. But besides such 
peculiar instances, there is a great difference between 
the functions performed by all plants during the day 
and during the night. As for animals, no doubt the 
oyster has his doze, and there can be as little doubt 
that the warm-blooded whale not only sleeps but 
dreams. There is an analogy between the winter 
sleep of animals and that of most kinds of plants 
which also hybernate, as shown by their leafless and 
deathlike state. 
In perfect sleep there is no consciousness. It has 
been therefore called with truth the image of death. 
It is a temporary death, as far as concerns all action 
and motion which lie under the power of the will. 
But although the brain is at rest, the heart and lungs 
continue their tasks, because they are presided over 
by a department of the nervous system which acts 
independently of the brain. The brain is the seat of 
consciousness, and from it all the nerves which 
originate and control voluntary motions take their 
rise more or less directly. PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Dreams generally occur when sleep is unsound, and 
the phenomena give much support to the theory of 
Gall, that the brain consists of separate organs. 
When, says he, “one organ is active, the dream is 
simple: the object of our love is embraced, har- 
monious music is heard, we fight our enemies, accord- 
ing as one organ or another is performing its 
functions.” Dreams are supposed by many to be 
excited chiefly by the memory of something which 
has occurred a short time previous to falling asleep. 
But this is the exception rather than the rule. They 
consist more frequently of the revived recollections of 
old events, and often of those which seem to have 
been quite forgotten. One of the most remarkable 
things connected with dreaming is the absence of 
judgment. We converse with the dead, and even 
though we may know them to be dead, this excites 
no surprise. Fear also is generally absent. Another 
curious circumstance is that space and time have no 
existence in dreams. It has happened to most people 
to dream that they passed through some long period 
of days or even of years, while they have been only 
a short time asleep. But still more curious is the 
fact that some sudden impression on the senses—such 
as the noise of shutting a door, or the entrance of 
light into the room where a person is asleep, and by SLEEP. 
which he is awakened—is often the exciting cause of 
an elaborate dream, in which the noise or the light 
is the point upon which all the incidents turn. There 
seem, indeed, to be many things connected with our 
mental structure which are, as it were, analysed and 
dissected for us by the process of dreaming, could 
we but interpret them rightly. 
A book might be filled with the account of the 
so-called prophetic dreams which have been published. 
Many otherwise strong-minded persons have been so 
struck by a dream of this kind as to give credence 
to the connection between it and the event which it 
appeared to foreshadow. But it has always seemed 
to us that in such cases one consideration has been 
entirely overlooked; it is this: People are constantly 
experiencing remarkable coincidences, such as the un- 
expected meeting with persons of whom they had 
been at the time talking or thinking; or the coin- 
cidence may be of such a nature as to make it im- 
portant or valuable in connection with something 
about to be done or not to be done. But it never 
occurs to them that in such a matter anything super- 
natural has supervened. Now, since coincidences are 
by no means rare in the waking world, why should 
they be regarded as rare in connection with the world 
of dreams? Why, in other words, should it be 332 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
thought necessary in the one case to attribute that to 
the supernatural, which is accepted as in accordance 
with the doctrine of chances in the other case ? Let 
it only be considered what thousands of dreams are 
nightly experienced, and that out of these thousands a 
considerable number have sufficient point to be remem- 
bered afterwards. Is it, then, surprising, considering 
'what occurs in every-day life, if in a few instances 
our dreams seem to be fulfilled ? This without ques- 
tion is the true explanation of so-called prophetic 
dreams. 
Dreaming is not peculiar to man. Horses neigh 
in their sleep, and every one is familiar with the 
angry growls, as well as the cheerful bark, which 
proceed from the sleeping dog. There can be no 
doubt that the memory of incidents in dog-life, 
such as of the combat or of the chase, are in 
such cases present to the animal’s consciousness. 
Children dream almost from birth, and they suffer 
more from frightful dreams than adults do. The 
dreams of childhood not unfrequently make impres- 
sions upon the mind which endure throughout life. 
It has been supposed that our dreams become less 
extravagant and inconsistent as we grow older. 
This seems true on the whole; but at times the 
most extraordinary dreams occur at every period of SLEEP. 
333 
life. Old people seem to dream more than the 
middle-aged; hut, unlike the young, the aged seldom 
speak in their sleep. 
Nothing has a greater influence in producing dreams 
than indigestion. A late meat supper, taken when the 
want of it is not felt, is almost sure to disturb 
rest and cause uneasy dreams. It is recorded of the 
authoress of the “ Mysteries of Udolpho,” that she 
was in the habit of supping on the most indigestible 
things possible, for the purpose of conjuring up horrors, 
to be afterwards transferred to her pages. Dry den on 
the other hand, is said to have eaten raw flesh with the 
view of obtaining splendid visions. As already stated, 
external circumstances have much power in modifying 
or inducing dreams. Instances are recorded in which 
any kind of dream could be procured in the sleepers 
by whispering in their ears. An officer, who was the 
subject of practical jokes of this kind, has thus been 
made to go through the different stages of a duel, and 
at last to fire a pistol when placed in his hand, by the 
report of which he was wakened. On another occasion 
the same person was in this way led to believe that he 
had fallen into the sea, when he immediately moved 
his limbs as if to save himself by swimming. He was 
then exhorted to dive, in order to escape from a shark, 
and in attempting to do so received a severe injury 334 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
by throwing himself from the bench on which he lay. 
At another time, when living in camp, he was made 
to believe that he was engaged with the enemy, and 
that the man nearest to him had fallen. Upon this 
our sleeper exhibited such marks of fear that he rushed 
from his bed, and was only roused by falling over the 
tent ropes. This gentleman, probably from motives 
of convenience, was in the habit of stating that he 
never preserved any distinct recollections of his dreams. 
Many people answer questions put to them during 
sleep, and some awkward disclosures are said to have 
been in this way obtained. 
Not only was it an ancient belief, but some amongst 
the moderns, such as Baxter, supposed that dreams 
were caused by the suggestions of demons or spirits 
which haunt our atmosphere. They imagined that these 
incorporeal beings possessed the power of thus torment- 
ing, of amusing, or even forewarning us in our sleep, 
according as their intentions towards us were bad or 
benevolent. But there is no necessity for any such 
supposition. We know that in the waking state 
thoughts spring up in the mind without any suggestion 
from our senses, and apparently in a spontaneous man- 
ner. When, therefore, the brain becomes excited in 
sleep, by the aid of memory, images are formed which, 
since judgment remains in abeyance, take form and SLEEP. 
335 
action. We have seen, too, that in some cases dreams 
may be produced by exciting bodily sensations, and, 
in fact, a large class belong to this order. There is a 
great tendency to exaggeration in dreaming. If the 
bedclothes fall off and the sleeper becomes chilled, he 
is apt to dream that he is in some'way subjected to 
the influence of extreme cold. If, on the contrary, he 
is oppressed by too much covering, he may dream he 
is sweltering under the rays of a tropical sun. The 
smoke of a chimney filling the room may suggest the 
conflagration of a city; the sound of a flute, an har- 
monious concert; while that of a trumpet may excite 
a vivid representation of the last day, the dead rising 
from their graves, and marshalled by angels preparatory 
to that most awful of all scenes, the Final Judgment. 
It is not, then, to be wondered at if the intellectual 
faculties sometimes continue active during sleep, and 
that the results have been found equal to the mental 
power of the dreamer. La Fontaine made admirable 
verses in his sleep, Alexander is said to have planned 
battles. In the same way mathematicians have solved 
problems, and schoolboys have accomplished tasks. 
This leads to the consideration of sleep-walking, or 
somnambulism. For in some instances, not only have 
mental feats been performed during sleep, as the com- 
position of poetry or the solution of a problem, after- 336 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
wards preserved by the waking memory, but the sleeper 
has risen from his bed and deliberately written down 
his poem or his problem. In this condition not only 
are the memory and intellectual powers in an active 
state., but the powers of volition are also more or less 
active. In addition to this, one or more of the senses 
is aroused, while the others remain dormant. If the 
sense of sight be alone thus stimulated, the dreamer 
may see objects perfectly, and yet be completely in- 
sensible to sound; or he may see and hear, and be 
quite insensible to touch. In the meantime, power, as 
regards the exercise of his 'muscles, may be complete. 
Thus he may write down his thoughts, or he may do 
his mechanical work, and then return to bed and to 
complete unconsciousness. But as in such cases judg- 
ment is also in abeyance, his actions may be not only 
erratic, but fraught with danger to himself or to others. 
He walks safely on the edge of a precipice, or on 
the roofs of houses, only because he has no fear. He 
sometimes avoids danger, and this has been attributed 
to a kind of instinct rather than to reason. But to 
us the influence of habit seems enough to account for 
all. He will not willingly place his foot where there 
is absolutely no foothold, because he has always been 
accustomed to this precaution. 
Very numerous authentic instances of this affection SLEEP. 
337 
are recorded; and it may be well here to draw atten- 
tion to the difference between tlie kind of testimony 
by which such facts have been established and that 
upon which the occurrence of supernatural dreams 
rests. The evidence in case of sleep-walking is objec- 
tive—the fact is obvious to others, and is generally 
established by many witnesses; but in the case of 
supernatural dreams, or of apparitions, the evidence is 
generally altogether subjective, and dependent upon 
the statement of the individual who is the subject of 
the phenomena. It has been already pointed out that 
coincidence must be taken largely into account, in any 
attempt to explain so-called prophetic dreams. But 
in case of what may be called the higher manifestations, 
in which some extraordinary revelation is said to have 
been verified, or some startling vision has been seen, 
it is a suspicious circumstance that the accounts are 
seldom those which come direct from the person who 
has experienced them. Men easily magnify what they 
fear, and such narratives never lose by oral transmis- 
sion. 
But to return to sleep-walking. In 1686, a brother 
of Lord Culpepper's was tried at the Old Bailey for 
shooting one of the Guards. He pleaded somnambulism, 
and nearly fifty witnesses were called to prove the ex- 
traordinary things he did in his sleep. Upon this PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
evidence he was acquitted. A lad at Fribourg, who 
had been a somnambulist from his infancy, was in, the 
habit of reading in his sleep; he would also, at the 
request of his tutor, find out places on the maps, which 
he did more readily than when awake. His eyes were 
at such times always open and fixed. In America, 
there was the case of a farmer who would rise in his 
sleep and thresh out several bushels of corn in the dark, 
and also carefully separate the grain from the straw. 
A drover was known in the same way to have killed 
and quartered a sheep. Dr. Haycock, of Oxford, de- 
livered sermons in his sleep; nor could he be prevented 
even by rough usage. Such a list might easily be 
increased; but a few instances are given to show what 
has been accomplished by sleep-walkers. 
As might be expected, it is unsafe to try to waken 
a somnambulist when discovered in a position of danger 
—such as on a window-ledge or on the roof of a house. 
If. as would most probably occur, he did not fall when in 
the act of wakening up, he would still run the greatest 
risk from an unsteadiness which he had not experienced 
while asleep. Cases are also recorded in which the 
mere act of rousing the person has been attended by 
fatal effects. It is not surprising that a person even of 
strong neves should be violently agitated by finding 
himself in a position at the moment altogether inex- SLEEP. 
339 
plicable. In a case of weak nerves, a shock might be 
terrific. An instance is related of a lady who was so 
persistent a sleep-walker, that her friends were in the 
habit of securing the windows and door of her chamber, 
to prevent her escape during the night. On one occasion 
these precautions were neglected, and she was discovered 
in the adjoining garden. She was there awakened by 
her friends, but such was the shock which her nervous 
system received, that she expired almost instantly. 
The affection called nightmare is in certain respects 
distinct from ordinary dreaming. While the imagina- 
tion and the memory possess full fling, the power of 
the will is either absent or greatly impaired. In addi- 
tion to this, the function of respiration is much impeded; 
and out of this, in some shape or other, a horrible 
association of ideas usually springs. Nightmare, in 
fact, furnishes some of the most distressing sensations 
that can be experienced. All the store of horrors 
which the mind has accumulated or conceived seem 
to come up at its call. From these, whatever is most 
disgusting or appalling seems to be selected, and to 
be moulded into shape. The sufferer is tortured by 
demons; he is gored by bulls; entwined by serpents; 
sat upon by some slimy monster; or drawn by a fiend 
to the very edge of a precipice, on which he hangs 
only by every effort of his strength. There is often 340 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
a feeling tliat such suffering is inflicted through malice, 
and that some malign influence is at work against him, 
to which all resistance is vain. A sense of oppression 
and want of free action are indeed characteristics of 
the affection. If the person thinks he ought to run, 
he finds that he can hardly move his legs. If he tries 
to escape through some door or aperture, he finds it 
too narrow. Ho fancies himself buried alive, and is 
unable to turn in his coffin or to make any noise that 
would bring help. If he straggles with some mon- 
ster, it is only to exhaust himself to no purpose; his 
toil is only rewarded by the mocking laugh or the 
demoniacal stare of his tormentor. 
Such is an imperfect attempt to describe the sensations 
caused by nightmare; but most readers will be able 
to complete the picture for themselves, in a manner 
more forcible than can be expressed in words. Some- 
times we pass from a state of perfect sleep into 
that of nightmare; at other times it comes on when 
we are between sleeping and waking, or when just 
dropping off to sleep. Generally speaking, the sufferer 
is roused by the violence of the attack, and it seems 
to be thrown off by a great effort of voluntary motion. 
He is then apt to rise up in bed, and sometimes cries 
aloud for help. As soon, however, as the capacity for 
action is brought under the power of the will, the SLEEP. 
attack is at an end. The heart now beats violently, 
and a cold shivering sometimes comes on. 
Nightmare generally happens to us when lying on 
the back, but this is not invariable; and it is often 
difficult to say whether or not the person has not turned 
on his back during the struggle which precedes recovery. 
What we have said of delusions about the lapse of time 
in reference to dreaming, applies also to nightmare. 
It is, therefore, impossible to determine how long an 
attack may have lasted. A minute of such misery may 
well appear an hour. 
Indigestion is unquestionably the chief cause of night- 
mare. Any one whose digestion is not the strongest, 
may almost infallibly bring it on by taking without 
appetite a late heavy supper. An excellent receipt 
for it would be a veal pie, in which solid indigestible 
meat is combined with pastry. The disorder also 
plagues people who are asthmatic. 
Various explanations have been offered of the im- 
mediate cause of nightmare; but impeded respiration is 
at all events essentially concerned. This may be induced 
by flatulence, which causes the distended stomach to 
press against the diaphragm, and so interferes with the 
free motion of the lungs. But an undigested meal lying 
in the stomach may in another way cause disturbance in 
the chest. The stomach irritation is then transmitted to 342 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
the lungs by means of their intimate nervous connection. 
The cure of nightmare, unconnected with organic disease, 
consists in avoiding suppers, attention to diet in general, 
as well as in a sufficiency of fresh air and healthful 
exercise. 
The approach of sleep is known by a sense of weari- 
ness-and muscular fatigue. Attention to what is passing 
before the senses flags, and conversation fails to excite it. 
All external impressions grow dull, the memory becomes 
confused, and questions are replied to incoherently. If 
we struggle against the invader and try to read, the lines 
seem to run into one another. The head droops at 
intervals from momentary unconsciousness, the upper 
eyelids close in spite of every effort to prevent them. 
If sleep is now encouraged, a brief and not unpleasant 
state of semi-consciousness steals on, which soon passes 
into complete oblivion. 
Waking probably depends on the return of blood to 
the brain in obedience to the stimulus given by one or 
more of the senses, as light, noise, or touch. Habit, too, 
has a strong effect; and there is no doubt that all these 
influences are controlled and directed by the sympathetic 
nervous system, by whose ever-watchful agency the 
functions of life are kept in action both during sleep 
and when awake. 
The proper duration of sleep cannot be absolutely SLEEP. 
343 
fixed; some men require much more than others; and 
age, the amount of work performed during the day, 
whether physical or intellectual, and other circumstances, 
regulate the demand. Infants sleep the greater part of 
their time. Children require more than adults, and, as a 
rule, the middle-aged more than the old. It is no 
uncommon thing to see old men pointed out as models 
of early rising to their younger friends. This is a mis- 
take, for in truth the old get up early because they are 
unable to rest in bed. But there are exceptions to this. 
Old Parr slumbered away much of his later life; and De 
Moivre, when past eighty years of age, slept twenty out 
of the twenty-four hours. It has also been observed 
that in the dotage of old age, as if to complete the 
parallel between the first and second childhood, sleep 
again predominates. Sleep in the aged is very apt to 
occur after meals. 
As a rule it would seem that the larger the brain of 
any animal is in proportion to its body, the more sleep it 
requires. Birds, which have small brains, sleep little; 
dogs, whose brains are much larger, sleep a great deal. 
But monkeys sleep little, although their brains are not 
small. 
Perhaps no better division of time can be made than 
that of Alfred the Great. He assigned eight out of the 
twenty-four hours to work, eight to amusement, and 344 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
eight to sleep. The demands of modern life in most 
instances sadly disturb such a relation between work and 
play; but the period be assigned for sleep seems to 
accord with general experience. Less than eight hours’ 
sleep is insufficient for most men and women when in 
health, and more is unnecessary or even injurious. In 
this matter, too, there are exceptions. Jeremy Taylor 
trained himself to exist on three hours’ sleep out of the 
twenty-four. Frederick the Great and John Hunter 
slept only four or five hours in the same time. Wesley 
lays down the proper duration of sleep at six hours, 
and Lord Coke at seven. 
Many instances in which sleep has been greatly pro- 
longed beyond the average duration are also on record. 
Boerhaave mentions the case of a physician who con- 
ceived the idea that sleep was the natural state of man, 
and he slept eighteen hours out of the twenty-four. 
But he soon slept himself out of the world, as he died of 
apoplexy induced by his indolence. Elizabeth Perkins 
fell into a deep sleep, from which nothing could rouse 
her, and remained in that state between eleven and 
twelve days. A man who lived near Bath is said to 
have at one time slept for a month. There is little 
doubt that in many of these cases the brain was diseased. 
Narcotics sometimes cause sleep to be much more pro- 
tracted than was expected. Notwithstanding numerous SLEEP. 
345 
exceptions, it seems that average people require to spend 
about one-third of life in sleep. 
The hour of going to bed must of course depend on 
the habits of the individual. Persons who get up early 
must go to bed early, and vice versa. Much has been 
written in praise of early rising, and with some truth. 
There is an undoubted relation between sleep and night, 
when, with few exceptions, all animated nature reposes. 
It is also a good, though not an indispensable, rule of 
health to retire to rest early; the real point being to 
obtain sooner or later the requisite eight hours* sleep. 
No greater domestic improvement has been effected 
than the substitution of hair mattresses for feather-beds. 
Perspiration is more active during sleep than when we 
are awake, and it is unduly encouraged by the sinking of 
the body in a soft bed, which also enervates the entire 
system. 
The open state of the pores of the skin makes sleeping 
in the open air hazardous. But the belief that the moon- 
beams exercise a peculiarly noxious influence on a sleeper 
who is exposed to them is unfounded. Most people 
sleep best on the right side; the chief reason of this is 
that the heart lies towards the left side. When, there- 
fore, a person lies on the right side, greater freedom is 
given to its motions. In many countries it is the habit 
to sleep on hard boards, and the ancient Egyptians slept PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
with the head supported on an iron bar bent to its shape. 
This one thing only seems to belong to all times and to 
all countries, that when possible people always sleep 
lying down. But in cases of great fatigue, neither this, 
nor even a state of rest, is indispensable. People have 
often slept while riding on horseback. In the retreat of 
Sir John Moore during the Peninsular War, many of the 
soldiers were found to be fast asleep while they were 
marching. It is indeed astonishing how well sleep can 
be indulged in under difficulties. Men worn out by 
fatigue and loss of rest at the siege of Sebastopol, slept 
soundly in the batteries during a bombardment. Coy 
and fugitive when sought after, sleep unsought is often 
an irresistible influence. 
A high temperature strongly induces sleep. In some 
warm climates the siesta, or midday sleep, is an estab- 
lished usage. Sleep from heat is preceded by great 
lassitude and indisposition to exertion of either body or 
mind. If a person gives way to it, he drops into slum- 
ber quite suddenly, but it is not attended by the refresh- 
ing effects of ordinary sleep. He is apt to awake 
feverish and thirsty, and with a dulness and confusion 
of thought which last for some time. 
A moderate degree of cold prevents sleep, while 
excessive cold has not unfrequently been the cause of 
apparent sleep ending in death. In some cases the SLEEP, 
347 
drowsy tendency from cold is so irresistible, tliat it is 
indulged in with the full consequences before the mind. 
Travellers in the Rocky Mountains are sometimes over- 
taken by storms far from shelter, and exposed to a very 
low temperature while crossing this bleak and elevated 
range. In such a situation to sleep is to die. A 
remarkable instance of this kind is related in Captain 
Cook’s Yoyages. 
Mr. Banks and Dr. Solander had ascended a mountain 
in the island of Terra del Fuego. Here they became 
exposed to an extremely low temperature, and Dr. 
Solander, knowing the risk of delay, did all in his power 
to keep the party in motion. “ Whoever sits down,” 
said he, “ will sleep, and whoever sleeps, will wake no 
more.” Notwithstanding this, the Doctor was himself 
the first to give way to the temptation, against which he 
had so forcibly warned his companions. He threw him- 
self down upon the snow with which the ground was 
covered, and it was with the greatest difficulty that 
Mr. Banks could keep his friend from sleeping. One of 
the black servants now began to give way. Others of 
the party were then sent forward to have a fire lighted 
at the first convenient place, while Mr. Banks remained 
behind with Dr. Solander and the servant. Partly by 
persuasion and partly by force, they were got through the 
greater part of a swamp difficult to pass, when both 348 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
declared that they would not proceed. The black man 
was now told that he would be frozen to death, and 
he replied that he wished only to be allowed to lie down 
and die. Dr. Solander said he was willing1 to go on, but 
that he must first sleep. As their companions were 
unable to carry them, they were now permitted to sit 
down, and both sank almost immediately into a profound 
sleep. Soon afterwards the news was brought that the 
fire had been lighted about a quarter of a mile farther on. 
They were now so fortunate as to awake Dr. Solander. 
But notwithstanding that he had not slept more than five 
minutes, his limbs- were almost powerless, and his feet 
had so shrunk that the shoes fell from his feet. He 
completed the short journey to the fire with great diffi- 
culty, and only by the assistance of his party. But 
their efforts to save the black servant were unsuc- 
cessful. 
It may strike the reader as strange that such opposite 
conditions as great heat and great cold should equally be 
the cause of sleep, while a moderate degree of cold keeps 
a person awake. As for the last, it seems to act simply 
as an uneasy sensation would do in preventing sleep. 
Extreme cold causes the blood to accumulate in the 
internal organs, including the brain, because it is driven 
from the surface by contraction of the superficial blood- 
vessels. The result of this is stupor, and not sleep. SLEEP. 
349 
which we have called it only for convenience, and 
because it has been generally regarded as true sleep. 
The effect of great heat, on the contrary, is to increase 
the amount of blood circulating in the superficial parts 
and in the extremities of the body. This causes a 
lessened flow of blood through the brain, followed by 
sleep. 
Such is a sketch of one of the most remarkable 
phenomena of our being. Although modern research 
has divested sleep of much of its mystery, there is still 
much to be learned; but, judging from what has been 
already achieved, we may expect with confidence still 
greater results. XV. 
SLEEPLESSNESS. 
In the preceding chapter, we gave an account of the 
phenomena of sleep, deduced from the labours of many 
observers. 
So far as has been ascertained, a lessened flow of 
blood through the brain is the cause of that total 
obliteration of consciousness and of all voluntary 
motion known to us as perfect sleep. It is necessary 
to bear this in mind, in order to comprehend what 
we have now to say about sleeplessness. 
When the brain is most in action, it attracts to itself 
most blood. Every one who has spent many consecutive 
hours in literary composition, or in abstruse calculation, 
will be able to recall the sensation of fulness and of 
throbbing in the head, and, if the work be still per- 
sisted in, the headache which such close application 
sometimes induces. From these considerations it is 
not difficult to form a theory of the cause of wakeful- 
ness, which facts as well as analogy show to be true. 
Provided that circumstances are favourable, sleep comes 
on when that power of the brain through which the SLEEPLESSNESS. 
351 
mind and the senses act requires to be renovated. It 
is usually requisite that the body be placed in an 
easy position, and that access of light and of sound 
be prevented. As we have previously pointed out, the 
power of the brain to sustain itself in action may be 
exhausted more rapidly than ordinary by fatigue, by 
heat, and by other causes. Habit also, by which all 
the functions of the body are greatly influenced, has 
much to do with sleep. 
The simplest form of wakefulness, then, is that which 
occurs from a violation of one or more of the con- 
ditions appropriate to sleep. Thus a bright light in 
the room, an unaccustomed noise, or an uncomfortable 
bed, suffice to keep most persons awake. An excess 
in the very causes which induce sleep also commonly 
prevents it. Over-fatigue is usually followed by vigil- 
ance, and such is the effect of habit, that some persons 
are unable to sleep if they remain long out of bed 
beyond their usual time of retiring to rest; or, on 
the other hand, if they go to bed unusually early. 
When the brain has been once stimulated to • activity, 
it requires some time before the circulation of blood 
through it regains the balance which is maintained in 
the waking state. When this balance is regained, 
most persons easily fall asleep if other circumstances 
are favourable. Many people indeed possess the PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
faculty of sleeping at will, by merely closing the eyes 
and otherwise shutting out external impressions. A 
great many persons, on the other hand, and par- 
ticularly those of nervous temperament, sleep with 
difficulty, and some may be said to obtain repose only 
by stratagem. 
Any intellectual effort immediately before retiring 
to rest is sure to be followed in such persons by a 
restless night. If, for example, a game of chess has 
been played, the various moves and positions on the 
board are long vividly present before the mind. This 
kind of misfortune is only to be averted by avoiding 
the causes which induce it. If, on the contrary, the 
circulation in the brain is habitually kept at an un- 
natural tension, the difficulty with which it returns to 
the state necessary for sleep is nightly increased. 
Many articles cause wakefulness when taken inter- 
nally. Of these, tea and coffee are the most familiar. 
Every one knows that either’, but especially tea, when 
taken too strong, prevents sleep. Opium, belladonna, 
or Indian hemp, in small doses, produce the same 
effect. There are good reasons for believing that all 
these drugs act alike, in at least one respect, namely, 
by increasing the circulation of blood in the brain. 
This is attended by increased activity and power of 
thought. Each of these substances has also a specific SLEEPLESSNESS. 
353 
action of its own. There is a difference between the 
stimulation caused by tea and that from coffee. The 
pleasurable sensations and the reverie caused by opium 
are peculiar to the drug. Indian hemp or hashish, 
which is its Eastern name, if taken beyond a certain 
extent produces a succession of mental images and 
pleasing hallucinations, the nature of which would of 
itself require a long chapter to describe. It is re- 
markable, too, that although all these articles may 
produce wakefulness, this in some cases depends on 
the dose in which the particular drug is taken. Opium 
in sufficiently large doses produces sleep, but tea 
taken in large quantity is not accompanied by this 
effect. 
Nothing banishes sleep more effectually than pain. 
Patients suffering from neuralgia have been almost 
sleepless for mouths. But no amount of pain can 
altogether do away with sleep, nor will mental de- 
pression or fear prevent repose when exhaustion 
ensues. Wretches are said to have slept while under- 
going the punishment of the rack, and culprits usually 
sleep soundly on the night preceding their execution. 
Cold, when not excessive, dispels sleep, because of 
the discomfort it induces, and probably also on ac- 
count of the derangement of circulation which it pro- 
duces. Coldness of the feet is a very common source 354 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
of wakefulness. A sensation of dry burning beat in 
the soles of the feet and palms of tbe bands, to wbicb 
some people are liable, and wbicb also accompanies 
certain diseases, is another cause of sleeplessness. 
Sponging tbe parts with vinegar and water relieves 
tins affection. 
All mental emotions are unfavourable to repose. 
The. merchant who has been fortunate in some daring 
speculation cannot sleep if be dwells upon bis suc- 
cesses after retiring to rest. Another who has met 
with reverses will be sleepless from sorrow if, as too 
often happens, bis losses intrude upon his thoughts 
during the night. But it must be admitted that, as 
a sleep-dispeller, joy is far inferior to grief. The 
memory of what we achieve or of what we gain is 
never so persistently active as the memory of what 
we lose. The recollection of the one soon dims 
through repetition, while that of the other long pre- 
serves its force. 
Another great enemy to repose is an over-active 
imagination. A man whose thoughts run riot, so that 
with closed eyes he mentally sees pictures pass in 
rapid succession, like a vast panorama, will never 
sleep as long as this state of things continues. One 
great essential for sleep, as we shall afterwards see, is 
simplicity of mental action. SLEEPLESSNESS. 
355 
Indigestion is a very common cause of wakefulness. 
Anything which acts as an irritant to the stomach is 
apt to irritate the hrain by means of the close union 
which exists between these organs through the medium 
of nerves. 
On the other hand, that kind of exhaustion which 
occurs from want of food frequently prevents sleep. 
When a person accustomed to dine late happens to 
dine early, and goes to bed without any substantial 
refreshment, he is very liable to find himself utterly 
sleepless. It may be that no actual hunger is ex- 
perienced. It is rather an indefinable sensation of 
sinking in the region of the stomach which gives no 
distinct indication of the want of food. This kind of 
sleeplessness is apt to be very persistent, because the 
exhaustion increases in proportion to the time during 
which the person remains awake. In such a condition 
a sandwich and a glass of wine or pale ale act better 
and more speedily than an opiate. No sooner has 
food been taken, than a glow of comfort and a ten- 
dency to repose succeed, and the person soon falls 
into refreshing sleep. It is not difficult to comprehend 
how this occurs: the brain in its previously vigilant 
state was too fall of blood, by which its unnatural 
activity was sustained. When food is taken into the 
stomach the process of digestion is excited, and the 356 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
superabundant blood is, by this means, diverted from 
the head to the abdominal organs. 
Another cause of sleeplessness, little recognised, is 
taking stimulating drinks. It is certain that in a 
great number of instances stimulants do not agree 
with the system, and that many people would sleep 
much better if they abstained from them altogether. 
Those who indulge freely at night are apt to awake 
very early in the morning and remain long sleepless. 
This is by no means inconsistent with the fact that a 
certain dose of brandy and water, or its equivalent, is 
considered by some persons indispensable to repose. 
Anything to which the system has become habituated 
from constant repetition grows into a necessity. In 
the present case an unnatural want is established, 
which, if not attended to, is a cause of discomfort 
and consequent loss of sleep. 
The effects of protracted wakefulness sooner or 
later show themselves in the strongest constitution. 
The person becomes gloomy, irritable, and peevish. 
The memory is defective, and the thoughts confused. 
Perhaps the most terrible punishment which Chinese 
ingenuity has devised, is prolonged loss of rest. In 
some instances it leads the way to, and even seems 
to be the cause of, insanity. Some of the greatest 
intellects have suffered from privation of sleep: SLEEPLESSNESS. 
357 
Newton's mind was impaired by it in liis later years; 
Southey's insanity was preceded by it. The more 
gifted and cultivated tire mind of an individual is, 
the more liable lie will be to wakefulness. The un- 
tutored sons of bodily toil have but few vigils, and 
amongst all the animals sleeplessness without external 
cause probably belongs to man alone. The lower 
animals are soon affected by loss of sleep. In Ceylon, 
wild elephants are kept constantly awake until they 
become tame; by this means the spirit of the most 
refractory is soon subdued. 
In order to promote sleep in cases where it is 
wanting, it is of course in the first place necessary 
to remove every exciting cause of wakefulness. It is 
generally essential to give up the use of tea and coffee, 
and, as has been said, it is sometimes necessary to 
leave off stimulants. The person should take care 
that he does not go to bed either with cold feet, or 
with a stomach that has been either long empty or 
scarcely filled. 
Many devices for inducing somnolence have been 
practised with more or less success; one of these is 
combing the hair, which has a very soothing effect on 
some persons. Another is to have the feet gently 
shampooed. Walking about the bed-room in one's 
night-dress, so as to get what Dr. Franklin called an 358 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
air bath, is a good plan, and the cold-water bath just 
before retiring to rest, by virtue of its stimulating 
action, is often successful. In more refractory cases 
tlie warm bath may be tried—it acts by withdrawing 
the blood from the brain. On the same principle, the 
upright position, by favouring the return of blood 
from the head, is sometimes useful. It is, indeed, no 
uncommon thing to meet people who sleep with great 
facility when sitting in a chair or in a carriage, but 
who sleep with difficulty when lying down in bed. 
The best bed to sleep upon is a hair mattress, and 
the worst of all is that made of feathers. Many 
people are so susceptible that they are unable to 
sleep in a strange bed. A pillow filled with hops, 
the emanations from which are narcotic, has been 
sometimes used with success to induce sleep. 
• People as a rule go to sleep most easily when lying 
on the right side. Proper ventilation of the bed-room 
is indispensable for sound sleep and for health. 
Sufficient out-door exercise should in every instance 
be taken, and those who are strong enough should 
carry it to a sense of fatigue. In the Satires of 
Horace, to swim three times across the Tiber is re- 
commended as a means of procuring deep repose. 
In a state of health, when the balance between mind 
and body is properly maintained, sleep will naturally SLEEPLESSNESS. 
359 
follow either mental or bodily fatigue. This balance 
is often sadly disturbed because the besetting. evil of 
our generation is over-stimulation of certain tendencies. 
Nothing is more important in order to secure sleep, 
than to diminish the intensity of thought. Under 
favourable circumstances this can generally be effected 
by the will. In other instances, however, the more 
the will is exercised against them, the more attention 
is given to the truant thoughts. At length the will, 
borne down by the torrent of ideas, gives way alto- 
gether, and protracted sleeplessness results. It is 
hardly necessary to repeat here that such an active 
state of brain implies that the circulation through it 
is active, and that it is the opposite of this condition 
which prevails in sleep. 
One of the most effectual modes of counteracting 
this state of things is to force upon the attention some 
monotonous train of thought, and to tire the brain by 
its constant repetition. Reading a dull book some- 
times answers. Repeating short verses over and over, 
or counting backwards, is often successful. Monoto- 
nous sounds a6t in this way. Boerhaave ordered for 
a sleepless patient that water should be so arranged 
as to drop constantly on a metal pan. The murmur 
of a flowing stream is for the same reason soporific. 
The whole chance of success lies in compelling the PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
mind by a strong effort of tlie will to give up the 
train of ideas by wliicli it Las been occupied, and to 
take up the less interesting and more simple ideas or 
perceptions presented to it. 
Many years ago a curious plan for procuring sleep 
by this means was announced as a great discovery by 
a Mr. Gardner. As tins plan made some noise at tbe 
time, and was reported to have seldom or never failed, 
we shall give a full description of it. Testimonials of 
the efficacy of his method were published by Mr. 
Gardner from his Royal Highness the late Prince 
Albert, Sir F. Buxton, Bart., Sir W. Cockburn, Mr. 
Sheridan Knowles, and other men of eminence. It 
may be, then, that some readers may owe us a deep 
debt of gratitude for placing the priceless blessing of 
sleep within their reach upon such easy terms. 
Let us suppose, then, a person to be in a particu- 
larly wakeful state, and that he has tossed and tumbled 
about into the small hours of the morning without 
any feeling of somnolence. If he should now desire deep 
repose, the following proceedings must be adopted. 
He is to lie on his right side, with his head com- 
fortably placed on the pillow, having the neck straight, 
so that respiration may be unimpeded. Let him then 
close his lips slightly, and take a rather full inspi- 
ration, breathing through the nostrils as much as SLEEPLESSNESS. 
361 
possible. This last, however, is not absolutely neces- 
sary, and some persons breathe habitually by the 
mouth. Having taken the full inspiration, the lungs 
are to be left to their own action, that is, expiration 
is not to be interfered with. Attention must now be 
fixed upon the respiration. The person must imagine 
that he sees the breath passing from his nostrils in 
a continuous stream, and at the instant that he brings 
his mind to conceive this apart from all other ideas, 
consciousness leaves him, and he falls asleep. 
Sometimes it happens that the method does not at 
once succeed. It should then be persevered in. Let 
the person take in thirty or forty full inspirations, 
and proceed as before; but he must by no means 
attempt to count the respiratory acts, for if he does 
the mere counting will keep him awake. Even though 
he may not now succeed in procuring very sound 
sleep, he will at least fall into a state of pleasant 
repose. 
Such is the account, somewhat abridged, of this 
much vaunted “art of procuring sound and refreshing 
sleep at will,” given by Mr. Binns in his " Anatomy 
of Sleep.” He, it seems, purchased the secret from 
Mr. Gardner, and hints at his generosity in having 
made it public gratis. It is founded on the principle 
that monotony, or the influence on the mind of a single 362 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
idea, as we have already shown, induces slumber. The 
inventor had for years suffered great agony, with con- 
sequent sleeplessness, from an injury to his spine. In 
this sad condition, opium and other sedatives were 
found rather to increase than to allay his sufferings. 
He was a contemplative man, and at length discovered 
the secret of “ subduing sleeplessness and commanding 
repose by a simple effort of volition.” 
The plan is at all events safe, and easy of appli- 
cation ; and any wakeful reader can test it for himself. 
In many severe cases of sleeplessness, opium and 
other narcotics are of great use, not only by procuring 
forced repose, but by breaking through the habit of 
not sleeping, into which the system had fallen. The 
administration of such potent remedies, however, re- 
quires the skill and the supervision of a medical 
attendant. XVI. 
VENTILATION. 
It argues a serious defect in our present system of 
education, that it should be necessary to explain the 
reasons why ventilation is essential to health. Such an 
explanation would be altogether out of place if people 
in general possessed even an elementary knowledge of 
the laws of life; in other words, of the conditions 
upon which- health and life itself can be preserved. 
Every one knows that fishes cannot live out of water, 
while land animals, for whose existence air is neces- 
sary, speedily perish if immersed in water. But if the 
explanation of these simple facts be asked, we believe 
we are not wrong in saying that the majority of persons 
would be unable to reply. Let it be remembered, then, 
that both fish and men, when they change places with 
each other, as regards the element in which they live, 
die from the same cause. That cause is the want of 
oxygen, the universal and indispensable agent of animal 
life. The fish dies in air because its breathing organs, 
or gills, are only adapted for purifying its blood with 
the oxygen with which water is saturated. Boil the 364 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
water, and tlius expel from it a great part of its oxygen, 
and, wlien cooled down to its ordinary temperature, place 
tlie fish, in this water, and death speedily follows. A 
man, on the other hand, dies in water, because his 
lungs are adapted only for extracting oxygen contained 
in air. 
The atmosphere which surrounds the earth, forming 
a gaseous envelope of the thickness of about forty 
miles, has a definite and very uniform composition. 
Every hundred parts of it consist of 21 volumes of 
oxygen and 79 volumes of nitrogen; or, if we esti- 
mate its composition by weight, of 23 parts of oxygen 
and 77 of nitrogen. Practically, we may say that a fifth 
part of the atmosphere consists of oxygen. It also con- 
tains about one part in 10,000 of carbonic acid; a g-as 
which, except it be highly diluted, is destructive to 
animal life. 
'Oxygen is, as has been said, a necessity of life, and 
the pure gas will sustain life for a short time; but it 
is of too stimulating a nature to do this long. Nitro- 
gen, on the other hand, cannot sustain life at all: it 
would be deadly from its negative qualities, because it 
cannot, like oxygen, effect indispensable changes in 
blood. It seems that the use of nitrogen in respira- 
tion is merely to dilute the oxygen, so as to render 
it capable of being respired. VENTILATION. 
365 
Carbonic acid gas is about one-half heavier than com- 
mon air, and owing to this circumstance it is possible 
to pour it as one would a liquid from one vessel into 
another. From the same cause it forms a layer at the 
bottom of wells or even in a more open situation, as in 
the case of the celebrated Grotto del Cano near Naples, 
where it emanates from the earth. Every now and 
then we hear of sad accidents occurring to miners and 
others who place themselves in situations where they 
inhale this gas. The result is stupor, followed by loss 
of consciousness, and unless help is speedily given, by 
death. 
This is the subtle enemy we have constantly to deal 
with in our houses, and against which we should be 
constantly on our guard. It is given off by animals in 
considerable quantities in the process of respiration, 
especially when they are in a state of exertion. A 
man produces about one-third less carbonic acid when 
sleeping than when awake. 
Some persons are much more susceptible of the effects 
of carbonic acid than others; but, as a general rule, 
whenever the proportion which exists naturally in the 
atmosphere is slightly exceeded, bad results begin to 
be felt. A sense of oppression, languor, headache, and 
other nervous symptoms are produced. Nor are the 
evil effects of rebreathed air merely transient. No 366 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
cause tends more to excite into action a latent ten- 
dency to pulmonary consumption, if it does not really 
produce the disease, than the air of unventilated bed- 
rooms. Air containing one per cent, of carbonic acid 
is highly injurious, but even half that quantity cannot 
be long breathed with impunity. Respiration can be 
continued only with difficulty in an atmosphere con- 
taining five per cent, of the gas, while thirty per cent, 
speedily destroys life. 
Besides carbonic acid, the atmosphere contains in 
much more minute quantities another still more deadly 
compound, carbonic oxide. This gas is chiefly produced 
in our houses from the imperfect combustion of carbon 
in fuel. Carbonic acid, on the other hand, is given off 
when the combustion is more complete. Warming by 
artificial heat is also another great source of this last 
gas. The method of heating apartments so that the 
escape of the gases produced by combustion has to be 
perfectly effected, is a most important study. The 
combustion of some kinds of fuel is accompanied by 
the evolution of so much carbonic acid, that if ventila- 
tion be very defective, immediately fatal consequences 
may ensue. Every one has heard of deaths ocurring 
from burning charcoal in unventilated rooms, tents, or 
cabins of ships. 
Other gases more or less contaminate the atmosphere VENTILATION. 
367 
of houses. Sulphuretted and carburetted hydrogen, 
etc., emanate from sewers, and are most injurious to 
health. It seems to be impossible, even with the most 
perfect system of sewage, altogether to prevent the 
escape of these gases. 
Another reason for the necessity of ventilation is, 
that respired air is always charged with vapour; we 
see the vapour out of doors when in cold weather made 
visible by condensation. About six grains of water 
are given off by the lungs per minute. This in the 
form of vapour, mixed with rarefied air from the lungs, 
ascends, because the combination is lighter than com- 
mon air. It shows that in all methods of ventilation 
means should be employed to remove the upper strata 
of air; for although carbonic acid is heavier than the 
atmosphere, it also is carried up with the respired air. 
This happens, not only because the breath is warm, 
but also because the proportion of oxygen, which is 
is heavier than nitrogen, is lessened by respiration. 
Amongst the innumerable laws which go to make 
up the perfect code of Nature, there is one which 
is expressed in the mixture of gases with each other. 
By the law of the diffusion of gases, carbonic acid, 
which escapes into the atmosphere, although much 
heavier, soon becomes so diffused that the open air 
always preserves sufficient purity for the purposes of 368 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
respiration. But notwithstanding the great bulk of 
the atmosphere, it is plain that in the course of ages 
its relative proportion of carbonic acid would be in- 
creased by the perpetual respiration of the animal tubes. 
Here, however, again a beneficent provision is obvious. 
It is the function of the plant to absorb carbonic 
acid and to give out oxygen. Thus, by means of the 
enormous mass of vegetation with which the land is 
clothed, the purity of the atmosphere is sustained. 
That water is purified on precisely the same principles 
as air, a few words will suffice to show. It is not long 
since the true theory of keeping fish in an aquarium 
came to be understood. Many will remember that the 
primitive aquarium consisted simply of a vessel con- 
taining water, in which fish were placed. It was then 
always necessary to change the water very frequently, 
in order to keep the inmates alive. This was, of course, 
owing to the consumption by the fish of the oxygen 
contained in the water, and the production of carbonic 
acid. The modern aquarium, however, contains not fish 
only, but growing plants. The plants restore the ba- 
lance which the fish tend to disturb, and thus such an 
aquarium never requires to have its water changed. 
All that becomes necessary is to make up at long in- 
tervals for the losses caused by evaporation. Since 
men as well as fish, then, depend for their existence VENTILATION. 
369 
upon this selfsame oxygen, and the sea, with intermin- 
able beds and groves of its peculiar vegetation, may 
be regarded as an immense aquarium, so may the at- 
mosphere be regarded as a deep ocean consisting of a 
different medium, at the bottom of which live men and 
other land animals. 
What, then, must be the case with people who, ne- 
glecting one of the most essential laws of life, shut 
themselves up in tightly closed day-rooms, and in bed- 
rooms of the same kind, in which, at least one-third 
of their lives is spent ? They are plainly sapping' the 
foundations of health. They do not die speedily, like 
fish in a bowl of water unchanged, because they are 
not equally confined in their rooms, and because, in 
spite of all their ignorant precautions, some fresh air 
gains access to them through crevices. But they lan- 
guish and feel unrefreshed by sleep, they become con- 
sumptive and die early, and their offspring is sickly 
and without vigour. It may be thought that this is 
an overdrawn picture. Many facts might be adduced 
to prove that the picture is but too real. Let one 
suffice. Her Majesty’s Foot Guards are men in the 
prime of life, and undeniably picked out ‘of the general 
population for soundness of constitution. Notwithstand- 
ing this, it was some years ago ascertained that the 
mortality amongst these men was excessive. It was PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
proved that while the deaths amongst the general male 
population of the same ages amounted to only 9‘2 per 
thousand,, they reached 204 per thousand among these 
vigorous Guardsmen. The investigation to which these 
sad facts led, showed that the mortality amongst them 
was caused by consumption, and that this was to be 
attributed to the very imperfect ventilation of the bar- 
racks. For example, a sergeant stated that he could 
not endure the foetid atmosphere of the crowded sleep- 
ing-rooms before the windows had been opened. No 
wonder that many of these poor fellows succumbed to 
noxious gases as surely as, although more slowly than, 
they would have done to the shot of an enemy. Mea- 
sures were then taken to ventilate the sleeping apart- 
ments, and the mortality among the same troops is 
stated to be now positively less, instead of being so 
much greater, than that of the general male population 
of similar ages. 
It would be easy to mention instances of the directly 
fatal consequences which have resulted from the inhala- 
tion of impure air. But having already given a sketch 
of the composition of the atmosphere, we must hasten 
to describe some of its properties upon .which ventila- 
tion depends. 
Air in common with other gases expands in volume 
almost uniformly as its temperature is increased. VENTILATION. 
371 
1,000 cubic inches of air at 32° Fahr., when raised 
to 212° Fahr. is increased in bulk to 1,375 cubic 
inches. This amounts to an increase of three-eighths 
of the whole volume. Now, one of the laws which 
regulate the motions of the atmosphere is, that the 
heavier or less expanded portions of it rush to the 
lighter or more expanded parts, and this motion con- 
tinues so long as the difference of density is main- 
tained. Let it be supposed, then, that the hot air, from 
a fire, as it enters a chimney fifty feet in height is at 
a known temperature, and that the temperature of the 
external air is also ascertained, the velocity with which 
air will move through the shaft is capable of being ex- 
actly calculated. The motions of the atmosphere, then, 
are caused by local alterations in its density arising 
from changes in its degree of warmth. It is upon this 
simple principle that the science of ventilation depends. 
In this way also the lightest breezes, as well as those 
grand phenomena to which we give the name of tem- 
pests, and notably the trade winds, are produced. 
The necessity for external ventilation has been fore- 
seen for us by nature. Noxious vapours arising from 
the earth, the smoke of cities, and the gases pro- 
duced by decomposition and combustion, are at once 
dissipated by the winds. How oppressive the atmo- 
sphere becomes in calm warm weather, and what a PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
relief it is to feel oneself fanned by a breeze after 
even a short continuance of such a calm ! 
We have already said enough to show that when 
we surround ourselves with an atmosphere confined 
within a small space, the necessity for ventilation be- 
comes urgent. Pure air is as necessary to us as pure 
food, and on this subject an old writer says quaintly, 
athat as everything that is proper for recruiting the 
decay of the solid or fluid parts of our bodies deserves 
the name of food, the air ought to be looked upon as 
real food, and that which is most necessary for us.” 
A future generation will doubtless look back upon us 
of the present day with pitying wonder. Notwith- 
standing the knowledge we possess, rooms for living 
in are constantly being erected in which no ventila- 
tion can be effected when the door is closed except 
through accidental chinks. It comes indeed to this, 
that such apartments are only inhabitable owing to 
the imperfection of their construction. Science has, 
however, not been idle in this matter of ventilation. 
What is most required at present, is a more widely 
diffused knowledge of the subject. 
A man produces by respiration about ten cubic 
feet of carbonic acid in twenty-four hours. Suppose 
him to be confined in a room containing 1,000 cubic 
feet of air, which a space ten feet square and ten VENTILATION. 
373 
feet high would afford, he would in twenty-four hours 
contaminate the atmosphere to the extent of one part 
of carbonic acid in 100 parts of air. A certain amount 
of carbonic acid given off by the skin would have to 
be added to this. But suppose twelve persons to oc- 
cupy the same chamber, and a like effect would 
be produced in two hours. We have previously 
shown that such a proportion as that just mentioned 
cannot be breathed with impunity. Health is daily 
sacrificed through inattention to the kind of atmo- 
sphere inhaled. People spend long winter evenings 
crowded together in badly ventilated small rooms, or 
else they pass hours in larger spaces, such as churches, 
theatres, and other places of assembly, which in rela- 
tion to the numbers present are equally crowded. 
It will be obvious that to insure proper ventilation 
two things are necessary: first that the cubic space 
of air in an apartment shall bear a proper relation to 
the number of persons who inhabit it; and secondly, 
that the air shall be sufficiently renewed. It is calcu- 
lated that the cubic space requisite for each person in 
a house should never be less than 600 feet; but in 
hospitals, where the air is contaminated with emana- 
tions resulting from disease, 1,000 cubic feet in each 
ward is the minimum, that should ever be allotted to 
each patient. Another great source of the consump- 374 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
tion of oxygen is the burning of candles, lamps, and 
gas-lights. The burning of gas is especially unwhole- 
some, not only on account of its consumption of oxygen 
being very large, but because of the other deleterious 
gases besides carbonic acid which are evolved. 
In order to do away with the injurious results which 
must arise from the assembling of persons in artifici- 
ally lighted rooms, it is necessary that about six cubic 
feet of fresh air per minute shall be supplied for each 
person. But this of course involves the condition 
that an equal quantity of vitiated air be allowed to 
escape. The art of ventilation consists indeed in 
effecting this double purpose, and much ingenuity has 
been expended on the subject. 
The different means employed have been divided in- 
to two classes—forced ventilation, and ventilation by 
spontaneous action. The first method is necessary 
whenever a larger number of persons are congregated 
in an apartment than its relative amount of cubic 
space would warrant. Sometimes fresh air, previously 
heated or otherwise, is pumped in, or it is blown in 
by a bellows, or a current is set in motion by means 
of a revolving fan, an Archimedean screw or other 
contrivance, and in some instances provision is also 
made for drawing off the foul air by mechanical means. 
Steam power is often employed to work machinery of VENTILATION. 
375 
this kind. The practical difficulties to be overcome in 
ventilating by these methods are considerable. No 
greater proof of this can be adduced than the case of 
the Houses of Parliament and the different methods of 
forced ventilation which have been tried for them at 
an enormous cost. 
The scope of this article is, however, limited. What 
is intended is, to impress upon readers, not only the 
necessity for ventilation, but how ventilation is to be 
effected in ordinary houses, by ordinary means. 
The commonest and by no means the worst form of 
ventilating a room is by opening the windows. But 
since the heated and impure air always ascends, win- 
dows should open at the top, and extend to near the 
ceiling. It is a great mistake, however, to suppose 
that opening windows upon one side only suffices to 
ventilate an apartment. It often happens in the still 
and sultry atmosphere of summer that the temperature 
inside a room is the same as that outside. In such a 
case no more change will take place in the air of a 
room having windows which only open at one side, 
than would occur in the contents of an open-mouthed 
bottle immersed in water. In order to change the 
air of an apartment, means of escape as well as of 
entrance must be provided. If the door be kept open, 
so much the better; and if not, the inevitable imper- 376 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
fections in its fitting allow some air to pass. Bat 
whatever may be said about the wastefulness or incon- 
venience of open fireplaces, they have at least one 
great recommendation. In houses where no provision 
is made for ventilation—and, as already said, such a 
provision is altogether exceptional—the chimney is in 
this respect of essential use. When a fire is burning, 
an artificial upward draught is created, which materially 
assists in purifying our rooms in winter; and in sum- 
mer, when there is no fire, the chimney acts as an 
air-shaft. But the fireplace in summer is too often 
closed up as tightly as possible with a fire-board. 
This is done for the sake of appearance, and no doubt 
generally in ignorance that appearance is consulted at 
the expense of health. The principle that double ori- 
fices are necessary for ventilation, should never be lost 
sight of. One of these should be as near the floor, 
and the other as near the ceiling, as is convenient, 
and they should also be placed, if possible, at oppo- 
site sides of the apartment. 
Ventilation is even of greater importance during the 
night than during the day. More time is passed in 
the same atmosphere during sleep, than in our waking 
hours. The system is also more susceptible of noxious 
influences when we are sleeping. On these accounts 
the ventilation of bedrooms should be carefully attend- VENTILATION. 
377 
Ed to. Unfortunately an absurd belief still prevails 
that night air is dangerous. This belief we have taken 
some pains to aid in dispelling, in the chapter on 
“ Taking Cold.” Here we shall only add, that no air 
admitted from without is likely to prove half so peril- 
ous as that which is breathed and re-breathed by the 
unfortunate occupant of a small and tightly-closed bed- 
chamber. The great objection to open windows and 
doors, is the uncomfortable draught which is caused 
by them. This objection is with many persons insur- 
mountable, and there are numerous contrivances for 
otherwise giving entrance and exit to the atmosphere. 
One of the simplest is to have a portion of the window 
filled by perforated zinc plates or with perforated glass. 
The draught caused by air entering through small 
apertures is diffused and rendered less perceptible. 
But ventilation by this means is necessarily very im- 
perfect. Another plan is that by the revolving tin 
fan still to be seen occupying the place of a pane of 
glass in some old-fashioned windows. Ventilators 
made of plates of glass which can be opened or closed 
after the fashion of a Venetian blind occupy the same 
position in some modern windows. These are in every 
way superior to the preceding, as they do not inter- 
fere with the light and the current of air can be di- 
rected either upwards or downwards. 378 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Ventilation from below is effected by means of air- 
cbannels and grated openings in the floor, but it is 
disagreeable on account of the draught thrown upon 
the legs of persons in the room. A better method is 
to have the skirting boards of the room arranged so 
that spaces for the transmission of fresh air shall 
exist between them and the walls. 
Arnot’s valve ventilator, which is inserted into the 
chimney at some distance above the fireplace, is valu- 
able because it is self-regulating, as all ventilators 
should be as much as possible. 
• Several methods of ventilating from the roof are 
employed in factories, stables, and other buildings. 
One method is interesting because it depends upon a 
curious property of the atmosphere. It consists in in- 
serting, perpendicularly, into the roof a tube, which 
is divided longitudinally by a partition. One extre- 
mity of the tube communicates with the outer air, and 
the other with the room to be ventilated. It is found 
that the foul ah passes out through one part of a 
tube so divided, while the fresh air passes in through 
the other part. A tube inserted within another tube, 
with a space between them, is sometimes substituted 
for the divided tube. But the objection to both methods 
is, that at the ceiling, the fresh current in its descent 
into the room mixes with the vitiated ascending current. VENTILATION. 
379 
We have now to describe one of the best and simplest 
modes of ventilating ordinary rooms with which we 
are acquainted. It is one equally applicable in winter 
and in summer, because all draught is avoided; for 
even if a window be opened at the top, a downward 
draught is frequently felt, and in rainy weather it is 
often impossible to keep the window open. The present 
plan is applicable in all kinds of weather, and would be 
perfect if the ventilation could be effected nearer to the 
ceiling. 
As it can be applied at an expense of a few pence, 
and as no unsightly appearance is made, it is equally 
applicable to the cottage and to the mansion. A re- 
ference to the woodcut will greatly assist our description. 
A piece of wood (a) an inch or more in thickness, three 
inches wide, and exactly as long as the breadth of the 
window through which ventilation is to be established, 
is to be prepared. Let the sash be now raised, and 
let the slip of wood be placed upon the sill of the 
window: the sash is then to be drawn down closely 
upon the slip of wood (a). If the slip has been well 
fitted—and the fitting may be made more complete by 
adapting it to the grooves in the sash and its frame, if 
any exist—no draught will be experienced in conse- 
quence of the displacement of the sash at this part. The 
effect of such an arrangement is, however, to cause a PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
separation between the bars of the sashes at n. By this 
means perpendicular currents of air will be projected 
into the room between the glass in the upper and lower 
sashes and their respective bars, in the direction of the 
arrows in the engraving, and other currents will pass 
outwards in the reverse direction, in a manner by which 
all inconvenience from draught will bo avoided. VENTILATION. 
381 
Supposing that two or more windows at opposite 
sides of a room are fitted in this manner, a very satis- 
factory ventilation will be provided. Owing to a dif- 
ference in its equilibrium, the air will rush in on one 
side and rush out on the other side of the apartment. 
If the slips of wood are painted of the same colour as 
the windows themselves, they will attract little notice. 
We cannot conclude the subject of ventilation without 
an appeal to clergymen, schoolmasters, and others who 
are in positions of authority. Immense good may be 
done by impressing upon the minds of those over whom 
they are placed, the vital importance of breathing pure 
air. Especially should this be instilled into the young. 
It forms as yet no essential part of a liberal education, 
that a man should be taught to understand the con- 
ditions upon which he lives, or how ho should best 
preserve his health. Such knowledge is certainly not 
less important than most of the instruction he receives. 
Yet all the knowledge which concerns his physical 
existence is left to be picked up by chance, or to be 
gained by experience, an experience sometimes only 
obtained by the sacrifice of health. The subtle causes 
which vitiate the air we breathe, must, as we have seen, 
be sought out to be understood. And if this kind of 
knowledge is important to those who live in large and 
airy houses, how much more important is it to those 382 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
who pass their lives in humble cottages, and in tho 
closely packed tenements of towns! How many head- 
aches would be avoided—how many a pallid cheek 
would be tinged with the glow of health—how many 
drooping spirits would be roused to the enjoyment of 
life—how many sickly infants would be transformed 
into vigorous men and women, instead of being pre- 
maturely cut off by disease, were the simple facts 
universally known and acted upon, that no kind of 
stimulant is so permanently enlivening, no food more 
strengthening, than a proper supply of fresh air in 
our houses. 
It is a pleasant reflection, that within the present 
century, owing to many causes, - but chiefly to the 
advancement of science, longevity has greatly increased 
in this country. We feel assured that a very con- 
siderable increase is still to be effected by a more 
widely spread knowledge of the principles and practice 
of ventilation. XVII 
TEE LIVEB AND ITS DISEASES.. 
The importance of tlie liver in tlie animal economy is 
great. It is present in all classes of living creatures 
except tlie very lowest in the scale. Few people are 
aware that the large soft portion of that delicious and 
now costly edible, the oyster, is nothing more or less 
than a liver. In the higher animals, its dimensions, 
although much less in proportion to the entire hulk 
of the creature, are still considerable. In man the 
liver is the largest gland, and weighs about four pounds, 
or about of the weight of the body. It is formed 
by an aggregation of very small masses, called lobules, 
each provided with blood-vessels, together with little 
tubes for carrying off the bile when extracted from the 
blood by the minute cells of which the lobules mainly 
consist. These tubes or bile-ducts, by their union, 
gradually go to form larger tubes, until the contents 
of all are poured into a single tube which passes to 
the gall-bladder or reservoir in which the bile is stored 
up for use. The gall-bladder is capable of containing 
about four ounces of fluid; it lies under the right lobe 384 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
of the liver, corresponding to a point a little to the 
right of the middle line of the body, and just below the 
ribs. This storing up of bile seems to be a convenience 
rather than a necessity, for the gall-bladder has some- 
times been found, after death, to be quite obliterated, 
or else the entrance to it has been so blocked up as 
to render it practically useless. In certain kinds of 
animals too, such as in the horse and the deer tribe, 
no gall-bladder exists. 
One of the uses of the organ is to separate bile 
from the blood. Certain carbonaceous substances are 
thus got rid, of, and this is necessary for the purity of 
the vital fluid. But in the wonderful economy of nature, 
this otherwise waste material becomes subservient to 
the wants of the system. The bile is discharged from 
the gall-bladder by a duct which enters the small in- 
testine at its upper part, just below its junction with 
the stomach. The secretion thus becomes mixed with 
the contents of the intestines, through their entire 
extent, and seems to be the natural purgative which 
prevents undue accumulation in the intestinal tube. 
Bile also prevents the contents of the intestines from 
fermenting. The operation of diverting the flow of 
bile outward through fistulous openings has been per- 
formed on dogs, and the animals have lived afterwards 
for years. The chief effects of such an operation are THE LIVER AND ITS DISEASES. 
385 
voracity, flatulence, and a putrescent tendency in the 
contents of tlie intestines. 
Human bile is a viscid, greenish -yellow coloured 
fluid, having an intensely bitter taste. It is alkaline, 
and it is to the alkalies which it contains that the bile 
of animals owes its cleansing properties. Bile would 
seem to be concerned in the digestion of fat, but how 
it effects this is not understood. The quantity of bile 
secreted in twenty-four hours is estimated at between 
three and four pounds. 
The liver is subject to several diseases in common 
with other parts of the body, as, for instance, inflamma- 
tion, cancer, and abscess, but the results are modified 
by the peculiar structure of the organ. It is subject 
also to particular affections which are due to the opera- 
tion of special causes. There are two things which 
happen in most such affections—either the organ en- 
larges, sometimes to an enormous degree beyond its 
proper size, or it contracts below it. 
No cause is so productive of chronic enlargement of 
the liver as heat. The hot climate of India is so fre- 
quent a cause of this disorder, that to come home with 
a big liver and a heavy purse was a current joke in the 
palmy days of moneymaking in that country. By the 
slow influence of climate the organ becomes engorged 
with blood and its functions sluggishly performed. The 386 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
result is seen in the muddy or even lemon tint of skin 
so characteristic of Indian residents, which is due to 
the imperfect elimination of bile from the system. 
A preparation of liver (pate de fois gras) is well known 
to epicures. But it is not equally well known that this 
delicacy is really the product of disease. At Strasbourg, 
where it is chiefly made, the geese from which the livers 
are obtained are subjected to the prolonged action of 
heat. It is alleged, on good authority, that the un- 
happy birds are nailed by the feet to boards, so as to 
enforce the necessary quietude during this inhuman 
process. But if the pleasures of the palate are the 
cause of so much heedless suffering, the unoffending 
creatures are not without some revenge. These 
diseased livers are far from being wholesome food. 
The small or contracted liver in the human subject is 
usually the result of intemperance. The surface of the 
liver is covered by a stout membrane, called its capsule, 
and from this certain fine bands, or septa, pass through 
it between the lobules, so as to preserve the form and 
consistency of the organ. The effect of alcohol, ab- 
sorbed from the stomach, upon these fine membranes 
is to induce in them a slowly-acting inflammation, by 
which contraction is induced* It results from this that 
the secreting cells of the liver are compressed and 
spoiled, and its surface, instead of being smooth and THE LIVER AND ITS DISEASES. 
387 
regular, becomes elevated into nodules, not inaptly 
compared to “hobnails” in appearance. This is also 
well known to anatomists as the “ gin-drinker’s liver.” 
In order to make it clear how it is that spirit-drinking 
is so injurious to the liver, it will be well to explain 
here the peculiarity of the circulation through the 
organ. Instead of being supplied with arterial blood, 
like other parts of the body, the blood which goes to 
the liver is collected from certain abdominal viscera, 
chiefly, the stomach, the intestines, and the spleen, into 
a large trunk, called the portal vein, by which it is 
conveyed to the liver, and then disseminated through 
it by means of the small vessels already spoken of. 
After having supplied the liver cells with the elements 
to form bile, this blood is again collected by the minute 
branches of the hepatic veins, which go to form two 
large trunks—the vence cavce—by which the blood is 
returned into the general circulation. Now when fluids 
are taken into the stomach, they are absorbed directly 
through their coats by the veins which are so freely 
distributed over the inner surface of the organ. In 
this way alcohol passes at once into the liver, and it is 
for this reason that the free nse of simulants, when the 
stomach is empty of food, is so pernicious. It is a 
matter of common observation, that spirit drinking, 
after dinner is less injurious than drinking before dinner. 388 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Alcohol mixed with food becomes in great part blended 
with and carried by it into the intestines. It thus be- 
comes diverted into other channels, and, having been 
taken np by the absorbents, if only present in moderate 
quantities, becomes digested and made subservient to 
the support of the heat and nutrition of the body. 
The form of liver disease just described is very fatal, 
and is often attended by dropsy. It will be easy to 
understand why this takes place by considering what 
has been said of the circulation through the liver. 
The obstruction presented to the onward flow of the 
blood, through the contracted liver, causes engorgement 
of the portal vessel and its branches. These last, in 
order to relieve themselves, exude through their sides 
much of the serum or watery part of the blood, which 
accumulates in the cavity of the abdomen. This, then, 
is the mechanism of this form of dropsy. 
It is no uncommon thing for the bile to produce 
spontaneously, by a partial decomposition, concretions 
either in the larger ducts of the liver itself or more 
frequently in the gall-bladder. These gall-stones, as 
they are called, so long as they remain stationary, 
usually give little trouble, and are sometimes found 
present after death, even of the size of a walnut, without 
their existence having been suspected during the life of 
the individual. THE LIVER AND ITS DISEASES. 
389 
It often happens, however, that when of moderate 
size they pass out of the gall-bladder through the short 
duct of communication into the intestine, and in this 
manner are got rid of. The calibre of this duct is 
about that of a crow's quill, and the necessary distension 
to admit the passage of a concretion the size of a cherry- 
stone is slow and painful. Perhaps, indeed, there is no 
suffering to which the human frame is subject which 
exceeds that which occasionally follows from this cause. 
The only consolation is, that, happily, gall-stone is 
seldom a fatal malady. On the other hand, a pei’son 
who has once suffered from it is very apt to suffer 
repeatedly. A common effect of gall-stone and also 
of some affections of the liver is jaundice. The name 
of this symptom indicates its nature. The skin assumes 
a yellow tint, which is regulated by circumstances. It 
depends upon the presence of bile in the blood, and 
the depth of the tint varies, of course, according to the 
amount. But, in addition to this, those who have fair 
skins present a bright lemon-colour, while in the 
dark-skinned a greenish hue is presented. In some 
instances, however, the bile itself is unnaturally dark, 
and then the appearance of the skin is darkened in 
proportion; such cases seldom do well. 
The yellowness of skin is sometimes attended by 
almost intolerable itching; but generally there is no PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
sensation of the kind. The perspiration not unfre- 
quently stains the linen bright yellow. The tears are 
yellow; but, most singular of all, sometimes the patient 
sees everything as if he were viewing all things through 
yellow glass. It proves that the humours of the eye, 
like the other fluids of the body, are tinged. To see 
things with a jaundiced eye is therefore no poetical 
fiction. 
There are some curious statements connected with 
jaundice. Icterus, its scientific name, is the Greek term 
for the golden thrush, a bird having yellow plumage. 
Pliny informs us that the sight of this bird by a 
jaundiced person cured the patient, but killed the bird. 
It was called by the Romans .the royal disease, as being 
one specially suitable for a king. Celsus, the famous 
physician of the age of Tiberius, tries to explain this. 
He says, it seems to be because, for the successful 
treatment of jaundice, all kinds of amusements are 
desirable, so that mind and body may be at the same 
time agreeably exercised. 
It is a humiliating fact, that the human body is the 
home of many kinds of noxious parasites, which derive 
support either from the food we take, or else from the 
tissues of the body itself. Of the latter class is the so- 
called hydatid tumour, which is in reality a living 
animal which has been discovered in almost every part THE LIVER AND ITS DISEASES. 
391 
of the body. The liver, however, is its chosen seat, as 
it is found here far more frequently than anywhere 
else. Strange as it may seem, hydatids are immature 
tape-worms, which, in the perfect state, are not more 
than a quarter of an inch in length, and inhabit the 
intestines of our domestic dogs. The eggs of these 
tiny, but far from harmless creatures, gain access to 
our bodies in the water we drink, or by some other 
means. It is not our purpose at present to follow the 
egg through the changes it undergoes, or the condi- 
tions necessary for the production of the perfect worm. 
It will be sufficient to state that the egg, having lodged 
in the liver, becomes developed into a bladder-like 
tumour, containing a clear fluid, and that it may attain 
the size of a cricket-ball, or even larger dimensions. 
It can be well imagined what a serious injury such a 
tumour must cause to the liver. Fortunately, in this 
country the disease is comparatively of rare occurrence. 
Nor is it necessarily one incapable of relief, and even 
of permanent cure. The tumour is sometimes tapped 
by the surgeon with complete success. Nevertheless 
in Iceland, where, from local causes, the disease is 
extremely common, it is the source of a large proportion 
of the total mortality of the island. 
Having now given a rapid sketch of the more serious 
diseases of the liver and its appendages, we have a few 392 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
words to say about those which are, in a popular sense, 
more important, because more common, and because 
great mistakes are constantly made on this subject. 
Functional disturbance of the liver, as known by 
diminished or irregular secretion of bile, is certainly 
not unfrequent. Sometimes this is associated with 
pain in the right shoulder, a sense of fulness and 
tenderness on pressure under the ribs on this side, 
with or without the presence of a tumour in the same 
position, showing the liver to be enlarged. These 
symptoms especially belong to persons of a certain 
aspect—sallow, sunken-eyed looking people, ordinarily 
termed bilious subjects. But nothing is more common 
than to hear people say that they are bilious, which 
means, if it means anything, that they are suffering 
from some fault in the quality or the quantity of 
the. bile. It must also be admitted, that many mem- 
bers of the medical profession too often apply the term 
carelessly, or else adopt too hastily the statements 
of their patients. The fact is, that in nine such cases 
out of ten, it is simply the stomach which is mis- 
used. Healthy people oppress their stomachs by eat- 
ing and drinking a greater mixture of things, and in 
greater quantity, than they can possibly digest; or 
else, the digestive power being weak, they indulge 
more in the way mentioned than the stomach is ablo THE LIVER AND ITS DISEASES. 
393 
to receive without injury, although, if healthy, no bad 
consequences would result. In either case various 
unpleasant sensations are complained of, and the whole 
is summed up by declaring, as already said, that they 
are “bilious.” Now there is a traditional notion that 
a “ blue pill and black draught ” are the only true re- 
medies for biliousness. The pill, as most know, consists 
of mercury, and the draught is a strong purgative 
consisting of senna and Epsom salts. This rough 
treatment relieves the effects of accidental indigestion, 
that is to say, of indigestion induced by excess in 
healthy persons. But its frequent repetition is very 
injurious; inducing permanent disorder of digestion, 
besides other bad results that attend on the introduction 
of mercury into the system. It will be seen that the 
misuse of terms is here, as in many other cases, a serious 
evil. The best of all courses in such ailments as those 
last mentioned, would be avoidance of the exciting 
causes. But when people attribute to the harmless 
liver what is in reality due to the stomach, it does not 
occur to them to be as careful about diet as they would 
be otherwise. So with regard to immediate treatment; 
while abstinence, in order to rest the stomach, and at 
most some gentle aperient to remove offending materials 
without violence to the organs, would be only neces- 
sary, the blue pill and strong draught are swallowed 394 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
because custom, and sometimes the doctor, requires 
that the assumed biliousness must be met in this par- 
ticular manner. 
We have said nothing about the treatment of diseases 
of the liver, because, as a rule, they require measures 
only to be undertaken by the medical practitioner. 
Mercury in judicious hands is undoubtedly a valuable 
agent in this class of diseases. Nitro-muriatic acid or 
aqua regia, that active agent which dissolves gold 
itself, is also highly useful. Amongst the more harm- 
less drugs, and one which may therefore be used freely 
by the unskilled, taraxacum, which is extracted from 
the dandelion of our fields, holds a place. The freshly 
expressed juice of the herb may with advantage be 
substituted for the prepared drug. XVIII. 
TEH ACTION OF ALCOHOL. 
Our object in this chapter will be to teach the 
physiological effects of alcoholic liquors, in order to 
afford guidance in use of alcohol; and to exhibit the 
changes wrought in the human body by spirituous 
liquors taken in excess, that alcoholism or the abuse 
of alcohol may be understood. 
The health both of the individual and of the State 
begins to excite some little national solicitude; but the 
appeal to State interference in such matters, must come 
at last from the people themselves. It is easy to make 
laws, but difficult to enforce them, unless the large 
majority of the nation understand the benefits to be 
derived from obedience. But we are not in the ranks 
of those who would remove the tax on spirits : a tax 
whereby the poor as well as the rich are made to 
contribute to the expenses of Government by paying 
a price above its production cost for an article of 
luxury; and very far are we from siding with those 
who misinterpret the liberty of the subject to mean PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
the right of any man to wrong his neighbour; to sell 
him fictitious goods—poison perchance for food. 
Need we preface our remarks further ? Yes; lest 
certain persons, wearied by the repeated bugle calls 
blown by the trumpeters of total abstinence armies, 
should shoulder arms and march away from us. 
We are no abstainers ourselves, and we are not about 
to advocate teetotalism under the banner of physiological 
instruction. It is as Physicians we speak; the flag we 
hoist has a white ground with a broad red cross upon 
it; we hold ourselves aloof from the fray; both armies 
send their shot into our tent; if we are attacked 
we know it is by ignorance or misadventure; we 
succour both parties alike. 
Come, tell me, cries some philosopher, a poser of 
questions, “Is alcohol food or poison ? for herein lies 
the gist of the whole matter.” 
Nay; not altogether, we think. But those who ask 
us questions will get questions also in return. Can 
alcohol fail to be a food when in states of habitual in- 
temperance, in diseased conditions of the body, as in 
fever, a man lives sometimes for many days together 
upon spirit and water alone? Surely that thing is 
rightly called a food upon which life can be maintained. 
Arguments clinched thus easily by superficial ques- 
tions mutually leave both sides dissatisfied. We had ALCOHOL. 
397 
better far give up the time, and work out the problem 
We seek to solve by studying the facts together. 
We must premise a few words upon the composition 
of alcohol; we shall then follow its journey through the 
human system, noticing its way of entry, distribution, 
appropriation, decomposition, and separation from the 
body. 
Hydrated oxide of ethyle is a chemical synonym for 
alcohol. It is the substance formed when ether and 
water are made to combine with each other, which under 
fixed chemical conditions they will do; or, practically, 
when any substance containing sugar or glucose is 
fermented, or broken up by the decomposing action of 
the yeast plant growing in it. The living vegetable, 
undergoing change itself, disturbs the elements—the 
carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen—of which the sugar is 
composed; and these proceed to re-arrange themselves 
as carbonic acid and alcohol, volatile oils and acids. 
The fermenting liquor called must in the instance of 
grape juice, wort when the saccharine principle is derived 
from some grain, furnishes always those two chemical 
products, carbonic acid and alcohol; the former passes 
into the air or is partly held in solution by the mother 
liquor, the latter, alcohol, is capable of separation by 
distillation. Being more volatile than water, spirit distils 
over, and is most pure in the portions that distil over 398 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
first. It is more mixed with, volatile oils and free acids 
towards the end of the operation; but whether emanating1 
from grape juice or grain, alcohol can only be obtained 
pure by redistillation. 
Its flavour varies of course with the mother liquor 
out of which it is formed. As an article of trade, the 
purest alcohol is chiefly employed by the manufacturer 
of scents; the next pure is employed in medicine. The 
third quality forms the spirits of ordinary commerce, 
mixed with the oil of wine, or cenanthic ether, as in 
brandy; or mixed with fusel oil, as in gin and whisky, 
spirits derived from grain. The last or worst, because 
most impure qualities of spirit, are we are told used 
chiefly in the manufacture of varnish; although some 
very evil spirits indeed are exported to distant lands 
to be consumed by savage tribes ignorant of what is 
better. 
In all wines and beers the alcohol-containing liquor 
contains some nitrogenous materials, furnished by the 
ferment and the mother must or wort, some sugar, certain 
volatile oils, some acetic acid and carbonic acid, the 
latter conferring its agreeable briskness to all fermented 
liquors. 
Let the alcohol come whence it will, its purity and 
strength modify greatly its effect upon the human 
economy; and, as experience has taught mankind, the ALCOHOL. 
digestibility, agreeableness, and amount of nutrition to be 
derived from the various alcohol-containing fluids is very 
far from uniform. Still certain physiological effects are 
due to the alcohol in any spirit-containing mixture 
that is drunk; and these we shall proceed to describe, 
premising only that they vary with the strength, and 
the quantity of the dose. 
Experiments have been instituted to ascertain the 
local effect of strong, as well as of diluted, spirits when 
applied to transparent and highly vascular membranes. 
The mesentery of a mouse, the wing of the bat, the web 
of a frog’s foot, can be thus' treated and examined under 
a microscope. 
The diluted spirit renders the membrane more vascu- 
lar. The living particles called blood-cells course more 
rapidly than before through the vessels, and minute 
blood-channels are rendered apparent in parts which 
looked previously quite homogeneous. 
If, however, a drop of strong spirit be brought in 
contact with the membrane, a totally different series of 
changes ensues. The walls of the smaller blood-canals 
contract, the passage is constricted, the blood-particles 
are obstructed, and, after a little oscillatory movement, 
the stream stops altogether; then the membrane be- 
comes opaque, and shrinks. In the . part thus injured 
the circulation is never restored; and if the life 400 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
of the animal is maintained, the maltreated portion 
ulcerates. 
When, however, diluted alcohol is used, and any 
tissues are thus rendered more vascular, they become 
warmer, because more blood passes through them, and 
the blood-cells themselves swell in size by reason of 
the alcohol and water permeating the walls of the 
vessels and passing into the current of the circulation. 
Alcohol, then, if sufficiently diluted, quickens and 
replenishes the circulation; if too strong, it acts upon 
living as on dead tissues, absorbing or appropriating 
the water of which they are composed and coagulating 
their albuminous contents. The throat and stomach are 
protected against the coagulatory action of strong spiri- 
tuous liquors by their surface moisture, and the free and 
constant flow of blood through their interstices, which 
yield water by exhalation until the spirit is diluted 
enough to admit of being absorbed into the veins. 
It is astonishing how far the force of habit goes in 
enabling soft and vascular tissues, like those which lino 
the throat and stomach, to sustain the assault of a fluid 
strong enough in alcohol to be readily inflammable, and 
which would shrivel them up if kept long undiluted in 
contact with them. 
Alcohol passes into the blood direct through the walls 
of the smallest vessels. It cannot be fairly said to be ALCOHOL. 
401 
digested. It suffers little if any chemical change by 
being mixed with the digestive juices of the stomach 
and intestines. It is not absorbed through the same 
channels whereby the food gains access into the blood. 
The villi do not take it up; the lacteals contain no 
appreciable trace of it. It is carried, diluted but un- 
changed, through the veins into the liver, and thence 
into the heart and through the lungs, and thus into the 
arterial circulation. 
Let us now watch a little more closely the effect of 
alcohol in the blood. First, upon the blood-vessels 
themselves—the pump and pipes by which the circulation 
is effected—and then upon different organs through 
which this blood is conveyed. 
We have observed that the blood-cells are rendered 
slightly larger by being bathed in a diluted alcohol- 
containing fluid; the blood-vessels are also somewhat 
dilated by accession of more fluid into them; the 
heart’s action becomes quickened, and its contractions 
take place not only more rapidly but with increased 
vigour. The blood is driven more quickly through the 
lungs, and ‘the respiratory acts are proportionably 
accelerated. We have only to watch the face of a 
person who has drunk a full dose of wine or spirits, 
to verify all these things. The smaller blood-vessels in 
the cheek, or those which traverse the white of the eye, 402 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
lie open to inspection; the face becomes flushed because 
these are more turgid, the eye is injected from the same 
cause; while the fact of larger blood supplies being 
conveyed to the surface of the body is further testified 
to by a very slight elevation of the skin temperature at 
the extremities of the body, which a sensitive ther- 
mometer will show. 
The general sensation of warmth and well-being per- 
ceived shortly after a dose of alcohol has been taken, 
admits, then, of ocular demonstration. If the blood, 
however, be overloaded with alcohol, the surface tem- 
perature of the body falls. 
We turn our attention next to the effect of the spirit 
upon the organs through which it passes. 
The veins which absorb the diluted alcohol from the 
stomach and intestines, carry it directly through the 
liver. This organ, therefore, sustains the first and 
heaviest assault of the strongest alcohol and blood mix- 
ture; and if alcohol be injurious to the economy, this 
viscus will suffer accordingly, a circumstance we may 
have occasion to revert to and prove hereafter.* 
When the blood, thus laden, reaches the air-cells of the 
lungs, a considerable quantity of spirit is exhaled in the 
* Few of our readers, we think, will fail to have heard of the gin- 
drinker’s liver. “He died of dropsy and diseased liver, a’ from the 
drink.” ALCOHOL. 
403 
breath,. The volatile oil mixed with it gives the expired 
air the smell of the liquor drunk; but the actual presence 
of alcohol admits also of experimental demonstration. 
If the breath of a person who has drunk so little even 
as a glass of light ale, containing three per cent, only of 
spirit, be conveyed through a test solution of chromic 
acid, the presence of alcohol can be attested by a distinct 
colour change.* 
That the alcohol drunk has gained access to every 
part of the body through the medium of the blood, can 
be shown by its detection in the sweat and in the urinary 
secretion. By all these portals, then—the lungs, the 
sweat-glands, the kidneys—the alcohol is slowly elimi- 
nated. As to the quantity which thus escapes, the 
quantity appropriated as food and consumed, and the 
quantity merely combined and stored away, we possess 
as yet unfortunately no exact information. 
Part of it, we know, is carried off through the ali- 
mentary canal as waste,—is never therefore taken up 
into the blood at all; but the greater part by far is 
absorbed into the circulation. Of this a portion is ex- 
haled, a portion also is excreted by the channels above 
mentioned; but a portion, and this a large one too, we 
* The exact composition of this test-solution is one part bichromate 
of potash in 300 of pure sulphuric acid. Its delicacy is so great, that the 
presence of T£s of a grain of alcohol can he detected by it. 404 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
believe, is broken up into water and carbonic acid, and 
thus consumed, as Liebig originally surmised, either in 
the blood, by the action of the red cells, or in the liver, 
or in the nutrient changes in the interstitial tissues of 
the body, perhaps in each and all these places; or, if 
not thus consumed, it is converted into fat, and thus 
appropriated to the uses of the economy. 
Although taken into the circulation rapidly enough, 
alcohol is but slowly eliminated from the system, and is 
probably only very slowly appropriated. Particular 
organs or tissues of the body exhibit especial affinities 
for it. They seem to hold it as a sponge holds water. 
The brain and nervous tissues, the liver, and the blood 
seem specially capable of holding or storing it; so that 
if an animal which has been overdosed with spirits be 
killed some hours later, and its body examined, not only 
do the brain, liver, and blood smell strongly of the spirit 
administered, but this can be recovered from them again 
by a process of distillation. The relative quantities of 
alcohol which equal weights of these three tissues thus 
furnish, prove that the brain substance holds more 
alcohol than the liver, and the liver more than the blood— 
a circumstance of extreme interest when the effects of 
chronic alcoholism come to be considered. 
Two physiological effects, distinct and opposite, have 
been attributed to alcohol—an early stimulant, a later ALCOHOL. 
405 
depressent action. To explain these, several theories 
have been mooted. All excitation, it was said, means 
more rapid oxidization, quicker consumption of nutri- 
tion, greater wear and tear of tissue: if the heart's 
action at first be quickened by the stimulant action 
of alcohol, this organ must shortly suffer fatigue, the 
circulation will then become retarded, and the sense of 
depression be felt. Similarly, of the nervous system it 
was affirmed—exhilaration means what our American 
cousins call rapid brain-functioning, living too fast for 
repair; for the nutritive processes require time, and cannot 
be carried on so quickly as the expenditure of force. 
There is something true in the theory thus enun- 
ciated, and framed no doubt to meet the occasion. 
Fatigue does follow over-exertion of mind or muscle, 
and is evidence that the processes of repair have not 
taken place so quickly as those of destruction. But 
the idea that life and energy are antagonistic things 
involves fundamental error. Energy, or the manifesta- 
tion of power, the conversion of force into action, 
involves no expenditure of life or loss of power. 
Thinking or lifting a weight is but a function of 
tissues provided to issue thoughts or actions. The 
tissues do not suffer by reason of their employment, 
so long as their nutrition is maiutained. Brain and 
muscle can be very fairly likened to machinery, instinct 406 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
with, power but requiring nourishment, as the engine 
needs fire and water in order to be put in motion. 
Both require food in order to perform their func- 
tions; but there is this difference between them—the 
engine may lie by, yet not suffer, but the nutrition of 
brain or muscle is requisite that these may live; and 
perfect nutrition—the appropriation of what is needful, 
the removal of what is harmful—cannot be maintained 
unless the organs themselves be exercised. 
The employment of his mind or of his hands does 
not wear the life out of a man, except the work be 
performed under conditions for which the machinery 
was never constructed. The human body was made 
for labour, and parts which are not employed quickly 
degenerate; indeed, we believe more men wear out 
through indolence than by strain of overwork. 
But to revert. The temporary exhilaration conferred 
by alcohol is termed its stimulant effect; a sense of 
well-being is diffused all over the body by the greater 
fulness of the blood-vessels and a more equable dis- 
tribution of animal heat. Nor is this sense of comfort 
followed of necessity by any depression, so long as 
the alcohol has not been taken in any excess; if, how- 
ever, it accumulate to any extent in the blood, the 
nervous tissue suffers impaired nutrition, and exhibits 
its fatigue by mal-functioning. ALCOHOL. 
407 
As we shall hereafter have occasion to insist, 
alcohol cannot be called anything else but a food, for 
it contains certain elements by which the body can 
be sustained; but it is not difficult to show that it 
is a dangerous food, and one that should be very 
sparingly employed. 
Itself a feebly oxidized body, its desire is to combine 
with oxygen, until, as chemists say, it obtains more 
chemical stability, or is decomposed into water and 
carbonic acid. 
Now alcohol mixed with the blood conducts itself in 
no way differently to alcohol in the chemist’s labora- 
tory; and just in that degree in which the blood is 
loaded with alcohol, it may be pronounced to be 
deprived of its free or combinable oxygen; it is more 
highly carbonised, more charged, that is, with carbonic 
acid, more venous, and less capable of effecting those 
chemical interchanges which render it the medium by 
which nutrition is carried to each remote corner of 
the body, and by which the bodily heat is maintained. 
Now a highly nutrient blood, one that can yield its 
oxygen liberally, is essential to the vitality of the 
brain and nervous centres; these cannot perform their 
manifold functions unless they are well nourished. I 
have not space to dwell upon the evidence of this, 
but the fact is one well recognised by all physiologists. 408 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
The enervating influence of close, ill-ventilated rooms, 
and the drowsiness induced by the respiration of 
atmospheres overloaded with carbonic acid, are homely 
but apt examples of this susceptibility of the brain to 
suffer in its nutrition. 
If an animal be deprived of oxygen, if it be ex- 
posed to an atmosphere surcharged with carbonic acid, 
its blood quickly becomes purple coloured, and fails 
to nourish the brain. At first the creature becomes 
drowsy, then comatose, is not infrequently convulsed, 
and finally dies asphyxiated, the heart gradually ceas- 
ing to act because the circulation through the lungs 
has come to a stand-still. 
Laughing gas, chloroform, ether, alcohol, all procure 
anaesthesia, with different rapidity it is true, but by 
one common action, depriving the cerebral centres of 
the oxygen essential to their nutrition, and poisoning 
them with the carbonic acid whose quick removal is 
equally needful to hinder disturbance of their functions. 
That anaesthesia is produced in intoxication, any one 
who has seen a drunken man fall and cut his face, or 
strike his knuckles against a wall will be ready to 
believe. 
Alcohol then deprives the blood of its free oxygen, 
and, in consequence, the brain suffers partial paralysis 
of its functions, chemical interchanges are diminished ALCOHOL, 
409 
all tlie body over, combustion is retarded, and tlio 
animal beat is depressed. 
We proceed next to examine tbe symptoms of tbat 
peculiar brain paresis, or palsy, which is produced by 
alcohol in the circulation, since the manner in which 
the higher intellectual operations of the mind are 
first assailed, then starved, and finally annihilated, 
while the lower situated nerve centres exhibit greater 
powers of resistance to the evil effects of a partially 
de-oxidised blood, is of great physiological interest. 
Among the facts which the physiologist for many 
years past has been in a position to deduce inferentially, 
none have appeared to him more important than those 
which led him to attribute different functions to dif- 
ferent portions of the brain and spinal cord; the 
exact allotment of their duties to the several parts 
was, however, by no means an easy thing to determine. 
The experiments made involved rude injuries, and 
were but rough guides to truth; latterly, however, a 
new mode of questioning nature has been discovered; 
what was formerly guessed at has been established 
upon more reliable proof, and much which could not 
be ascertained by the older methods is likely to be 
made known to us. 
It appears certain that some portions of the brain 
substance are set apart by habit, and, as it were. PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
educated to preside over particular intellectual opera- 
tions. Tims we are fairly entitled to conclude tliat 
tliere is a thought-apparatus, which furnishes ideas, 
remembers, compares, judges, exercises control over the 
emotions; that there is a receptive apparatus, which 
receives and stores impressions derived from the special 
senses, which feels, smells, sees, hears, and tastes, 
through organs provided for these several purposes. 
Then again, there are nervous centres whose duties 
are to co-ordinate complex muscular movements, as of 
the two eyes, that vision may be single; as of* the 
tongue, that speech may conceal and reveal the thoughts; 
as of the hands, that those may wield a pen or play a 
piano; as of the legs, that those may poise the body 
in running or standing; as of the trunk, that the up- 
right position may be maintained. 
And lastly, we must make mention of those lower 
situated nerve centres which co-ordinate the movements 
of respiration and the rhythmical contractions of the 
several cavities of the heart. It will be perceived that 
the human body is like the Prussian Government, a very 
perfect bureaucracy; its direction offices are manifold) 
each has strictly defined duties to perform, all have 
to report progress and to receive orders from one pre- 
siding head-centre. 
After this apparent digression into general physio- ALCOHOL. 
411 
logy, we may proceed to illustrate the several phases 
of intoxication or brain-poisoning with alcohol, with 
some hope of making them intelligible. 
One of the first, if not quite the earliest symptom 
which can be accepted as evidence that certain nerve 
functions are impaired by the circulation of a blood 
oppressed by alcohol, is flushing of the face and of 
parts of the skin. The same thing is observed in 
blood-poisoning during fever. The interpretation of 
this phenomenon usually given is a partial paralysis of 
the cranial and cranial sympathetic nerves, whose 
branches are supplied to the walls of the 'arteries, and 
whose duty is to adjust the blood supply to the re- 
quirements of nutrition. 
This symptom is seen equally in intoxication by ether 
and by alcohol: certain blood-vessels become dilated, 
more blood passes through them, and the skin surface 
supplied by them becomes flushed, and exhibits a rise 
of temperature. A rise of 3J° Fahr,, as Dr. Anstie’s 
experiments show, can thus take place in the ears of 
rabbits and guinea-pigs. 
Simultaneously almost, due perhaps to the same 
cause, the eyes are perceived to be slightly protruded 
from the sockets, and obtain a brilliant glistening look. 
Anrf now it is (in human kind) that the hold which a 
man’s judgment ought to exert over his imaginative 412 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
faculties begins to be relaxed, and the phenomena of 
nerval excitement are exhibited: ideas follow each 
other quickly, and exhibit exaltation or depression ac- 
cording to a man’s habit of thought; his tongue, too, 
is loosened, and becomes an excellent index of the de- 
gree in which mal-nutrition of his intellectual brain- 
centres has influenced the operations of the mind. 
He brings little Egomet into the foreground; it is 
self-praise, self-depreciation, his mother wit, his natural 
talents, his proverbial luck, his personal endowments or 
adornments, but self, self, self is the character that 
never quits the stage. He is precise, communicative, 
loquacious, garrulous, twaddling, and at last babbling 
in his talk. 
It is of course in this semi-delirious condition that 
different natures show themselves, illustrating the in 
vino veritas, of which so much has been said: how 
the gentlest creature alive becomes doggedly authorita- 
tive and provokingly contradictory; how the timid 
man is emboldened to adventure; how the individual 
to whom reserve was habitual, lays bare his profoundest 
secrets to the friend of an hour’s acquaintance. 
In this stage of intoxication, it is not that ideas 
are wanting any more than muscular force, but that 
the faculty of co-ordinating those complex intellectual 
operations, which together make up the mind and cha- ALCOHOL. 
racter of the individual we were wont to know, is 
faulty; judgment is impaired before memory, emotional 
control is lost, and the passions stalk forth,—the moral 
sense and power of voluntary recollection are lost. 
The well balanced Egomet has lost all the benefit of 
its worldly schooling. The coarse vulgar foundations, 
upon which a highly finished superstructure had been 
reared, crop forth to our disgust; the lower nature has 
predominance. 
Further evidence that all this is the result of 
partial paralysis of one portion of the brain-substance 
before another will be shortly forthcoming. But 
a fact in illustration may be advanced. In man 
as well as in animals, more or less anaesthesia of the 
skin of the face accompanies, we are told, an early 
stage of intoxication ; it is. due to a partial paralysis 
of the fifth cranial nerve, which supplies sensation 
to these parts. The skin about the muzzle of dogs 
loses common sensation. The affection of the cranial 
sympathetic, as evidenced by the flushing of the face, 
we have already dwelt upon; while so soon as the stage 
of alcohol narcosis is reached, the hypoglossal nerve,* 
which co-ordinates the movements of the tongue, be- 
comes partly paralysed, and speech is affected. 
The stage of intoxication which is characterized by 
cerebral mal-nutrition and nerval excitement passes, by 414 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
insensible gradations, into that of narcosis, or drugged 
sleep. The special senses, taste and smell, become im- 
paired somewhat early, so that a connoisseur cannot 
distinguish one wine from another. The eye, too, loses 
its cunning, its muscular movements, like those re- 
quired of the tongue in speech, failing in that ex- 
quisite adjustment and harmonious working which is 
requisite for single and perfect vision; the nerve centres, 
whose business it is, without any effort of volition, to 
balance and control that delicate motion, being either 
partially or wholly palsied. 
Curiously enough, as in the delirium of disease, and 
in the mal-functioning provoked by the mal-nutrition 
of insanity, the organs of vision are far more prone 
to play their owner tricks—see that which is not, and 
misrepresent that which is—than either the sense of 
hearing or that of touch. Thus for a long time after 
a drunken man’s speech has ceased to be articulate, 
or his eyes to convey correct impressions, he may be 
induced to gather his semi-consciousness together at 
hearing his own name called. 
“ In our description of the physiological effects of 
alcohol, we have now made our readers acquainted 
with three stages: a first, of stimulation, a second, of 
delirious excitement, and a third, of narcosis or partial 
brain palsy. This palsy may become more and more ALCOHOL. 
profound as the paralytic influence extends over the 
nerve-centres which control the movements of the 
limbs, and administer to the functions of mere animal 
existence, such as the respiration and blood circu- 
lation; but it is desirable to separate this state of 
advanced palsy from that of narcosis, and to call this 
a fourth stage, or stage of coma. 
Throughout the stages of stimulation and excitement 
it appears certainly the rule that the skin is hot and 
drier than natural; but when the narcotic stage is 
passing towards that of coma, a sensible perspiration 
usually bedews the forehead and cheeks, and this be- 
comes apparent just when two other usually associated 
symptoms are observed, namely, giddiness, or vertigo, 
and vomiting. During the stage of narcosis the. pupils 
are natural, or rather contracted; but in that of coma 
they become dilated. It is in the stage of narcosis 
that the power to regulate the movements of the legs 
becomes impaired, but the power to support the body 
is not wholly lost until the stage of coma is reached. In 
cats and dogs made drunk with spirit, the same series 
of physiological symptoms are manifested that are ob- 
served in man. The hind legs first lose power, and the 
animal struggles to stand; finally they give way alto- 
gether, so that the creature falls, paralysed both as to 
power of motion and sensation in those parts, while still PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
retaining sense to struggle forcibly with its fore limbs. 
Tims a drunken man is often seen supporting himself 
by his arms when his legs are perfectly useless to him. 
It is in the stage of narcosis that convulsive move- 
ments not infrequently affect the muscles of the arms 
and face. When an animal falls down from paralysis of 
its hind legs, drowsiness overcomes it; a like thing is 
seen in the intoxication of man: he falls asleep, and 
will sleep for some hours a drugged heavy sleep. 
This is not necessarily coma, in the physiological 
sense we attach to the term. 
All intoxication does not reach the stage of coma, 
which is vulgarly called the state of dead drunken- 
ness. This condition is exactly similar to that produced 
by an overdose of chloroform, and is one, of course, 
of imminent risk to life; in it a man lives only by the 
pertinacious resistance to poisonous impressions ex- 
hibited by the great ganglionic nerve centres, situated 
at the uppermost portion of the spinal cord. We shall 
describe the symptoms most characteristic of the stage 
of coma, which ought to be better known than they 
are, for not a few persons are allowed to die in police- 
stations and elsewhere every year, those who pick 
them up not recognising the symptoms of most 
dangerous import, which serve to distinguish this 
state from that of mere intoxicated sleep or narcosis. ALCOHOL. 
In the stage of coma, the pulse, previously full and 
slow, becomes small, running, and almost imperceptible; 
the face is pale, the surface of the body cold, for the 
bodily temperature is now universally depressed. If 
the arm be pinched, it is not moved; if the eyeballs be 
touched, the eyelids are not winked; respiration be- 
comes slower and slower; the lips become livid; and 
death, if this takes "place, happens either by syncope, 
the heart ceasing to beat, or, as is more usual, by 
failure of breath through gradual stagnation of the 
circulation through the lungs, in which case the lungs 
after death are found gorged with blood, and the right 
half of the heart is fully distended. 
People have been said to die of cold in this comatose 
stage of intoxication. This much is certain, that ex- 
ternal cold has the effect of quickening the process 
of intoxication; as is well known, a man who was 
previously only slightly excited by liquor, by going 
out into the cold air in frosty weather may quickly 
fall in a state of narcosis, become comatose, and die. 
Furthermore, in the stage even of narcosis, the. cir- 
culation of alcohol through the brain-centres certainly 
has the effect of lowering the temperature of the body. 
It is scarcely true, however, to conclude that the man 
who is found dead in the open air, and who is known 
to have been drinking previously, has died from the PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
effects of exposure to cold alone; rather should it be 
said that he has died from the poisonous effects of an 
overdose of alcohol promoted by external cold. 
To recapitulate; we have described four physiological 
stages of alcoholism, not strictly limited, seldom dis- 
tinctly observed, for the one verges by scarcely per- 
ceptible gradations into the other. 
For its stimulant effect, in extreme fatigue, in disease, 
and especially in fever, the physician employs wine or 
brandy to steady the heart’s action and invigorate its 
contractions; he perceives that the alcohol is useful in 
diminishing perspiration and excessive secretion in states 
of great weakness, that neuralgic pains are relieved by 
it, and tremor and spasm of muscle are temporarily 
abated. 
But it is not merely for its stimulant effects that he 
prescribes, and allows, the sparing and careful employ- 
ment of alcohol-containing liquors. 
Nearly all of them, as wine and beer, contain other 
nitrogenous materials as well as alcohol, and are strictly 
foods, with just that amount of stimulant combined with 
them which makes digestion easy and nutrition more 
complete. The man who gives up taking beer or wine 
with his food can maintain himself quite well without 
them, but he will eat more bread, more meat, and more 
vegetables, and he will require more time for his_ meals. ALCOHOL. 
419 
being able to exert himself neither quite so quickly nor 
so vigorously after them. 
But all alcohol-containing liquors are foods to be 
taken with discretion and extreme caution. It is not 
every habit of body that can bear them at all. They 
are foods which should be reserved for extraordinary 
service, for special conditions of disease, and for impaired 
health. They are truly serviceable only when nutrition is 
disordered, when one part is living too fast, another too 
slowly, when a man is suffering from some disturbance 
of his normal balance, or when he is maintaining life 
upon conditions unfavourable to health. 
That fermented drinks are useful articles of food, 
the history of man upon the earth, who has certainly 
employed them from the earliest ages and not deterior- 
ated under their habitual use, as well as the universality 
of the instinct which has prompted mankind to consume 
them, may be held to testify. 
Strong liquors and spirits, even the stronger wines, 
may find their fitting place as medicines, but as articles 
of food cannot be regarded as other than dangerous; 
and this because the quantity in which they can be taken 
without producing harm (the dose, that is) will be found 
to vary with climate, temperature, and the individual 
state. The stronger any liquor is in alcohol the less 
claim has it to be called a good food itself, and the 420 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
more certain is it to diminish the appetite for the more 
valuable flesh-making nitrogenous materials which ought 
to enter into any dietary calculated to maintain all the 
organs of the body fully repaired. 
There is a habit of petty drinking which we must 
notice here to condemn. It is vulgarly called “nipping ” 
The very name has a mischievous clink about it, im- 
plying sharp twinges made on a sudden. 
Both men and women practise it,—men at their offices 
or at their work, ladies in the midst of their domestic 
duties, or at their amusements. The fatigue of over- 
work, the ennui of mere indolence, alike prompt to it. 
Men usually employ a glass of sherry, women take 
ether, eau do Cologne, or sal volatile; but the object is 
one and the same,—to goad what have become, through 
lack of healthly nutrition and fair treatment, torpid 
nervous energies. The individuals who thus resort to 
alcohol for its influence upon their nervous systems fall 
into the vice of dram-drinking almost unawares. 
One, at least, amongst the many risks attached to 
fermented liquors, as adjuncts to other food, is their 
quick assimilation, their very easy appropriation by the 
body, and the facility with which they staunch the sense 
of hunger. Thus they are employed often to save time, 
which a more solid meal would require in consumption; 
and the principal meal of the day, which can never be ALCOHOL. 
421 
dispensed with if health is to be consulted, is postponed 
until the evening, when the body is fatigued, and re- 
quires repose rather than food, and certainly rest before 
taking it. 
The professional man who, after a day’s fatiguing brain 
work, comes home to a late dinner, has more relish for 
wine than food; so too the labourer who has foregone his 
mid-day meal, and taken ale in lieu of it, sits down with 
little appetite to bread and tea, or meat, but craves for 
spirits, which will relieve his immediate sense of lassitude, 
but can scarcely refit his frame to endure another day’s 
labour. 
But spirituous food in such cases is attended by risks 
of all kinds: first, there is the temptation to take the 
alcohol mixture stronger and stronger, that the sense of 
fatigue may be more quickly subdued; then there is the 
inclination to drink liquor before any food is put into the 
stomach, by which the process of digestion becomes im- 
paired; and lastly, there is the great likelihood that an 
excess of liquor will be taken, for while the nutrition 
which is required is quickly furnished, the sense of 
refreshment which is derived from a natural meal com- 
posed of varied aliments is not obtained; thus the 
individual is prompted to take more alcohol than his 
body can with safety support and appropriate, and he 
severely tasks his eliminant organs in removing, not 422 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
merely the daily waste of his tissues, but an excess of 
wasteful food. This, too, without even approaching to a 
manifestation of the symptoms of intoxication. It will 
be readily understood that the bodily coffers are loaded 
without being enriched by treasure of this kind, and that 
by the help of alcohol, taken not as a sparing adjunct but 
as a main staple of food, a man will be encouraged to live 
upon the capital of his physical energies instead of on the 
interest; interest which his organs, more fully nourished 
by other aliment, would have liberally furnished him. 
All foods are stimulants, and all stimulants are foods, 
and the distinction sometimes drawn between them is 
not merely fanciful but strictly untrue; furthermore, we 
might inculcate a doctrine that we are well aware every 
physiologist would endorse: That any food taken in 
excessive quantity is a poison, that is, acts prejudicially to 
health, disturbs and damages the body. 
Before concluding this sketch of the physiological 
effects of alcohol, there is a matter which we feel it our 
duty to insist upon, namely, that while all alcohol-con- 
taining liquors are dangerous foods, and for the great 
mass of mankind are quite unnecessary, yet as medicines 
they are fraught with special powers, and possess quali- 
ties of such value as need to be pointed out,—this, too, 
especially at a time when we hear of the institution of a 
hospital where no alcohol is to be admitted. ALCOHOL. 
423 
Alcohol in the blood, as alcohol outside it, is an anti- 
septic agent of singular power. In states of blood- 
poisoning and fever it lessens the tendency of the blood 
itself to break up, and of the living particles, the cells in 
it, to disintegrate; it promotes the consolidation of the 
tissues of the body, when these are prompted by some 
fermenting disturbance, as in fever, to swell up and in- 
corporate more water than they require. It, further, in 
fever retards that very consumption of tissue which 
constitutes the pyretic or febrile state, arresting, as we 
have shown, all chemical interchanges between the blood 
• 
and the tissues, by its own more vigorous action as an 
oxidising agent. 
Magnus Huss, in his work on Alcoholism, classifies 
individual temperaments according to their several pro- 
clivities to exceed in drinking, and to suffer from the 
action of alcohol. First, because most mischievously 
affected, he places the sanguine nature; second, the 
bilious; third, the lymphatic; and last of all, the 
nervous. 
It is well known that the inhabitants of cold and damp 
northern climates are, in respect of consuming liquor, the 
chief sinners; the Italian and Spaniard, inhabitants of 
hot and sunny climes, and living beneath blue skies, being 
broadly and generally speaking sober people. Their 
energies are perhaps too active to need further stimulation. 424 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Our own experience lias taught us that the tempera- 
ment which in this country appears most prejudicially 
affected by alcohol is the sanguine. Plethoric persons, 
although strong-headed, and able to carry, as is said, 
unusual quantities of spirit without being intoxicated, 
exhibit small power of self-control in drinking, and suffer 
accordingly. 
Those again who inherit an unstable mental equilibrium, 
irritable, excitable persons, and epileptics, should abstain 
from alcohol as rigorously as from very poison. Contrari- 
wise, the lymphatic, the over-large, pale, apathetic per- 
sonages find good wine and beer, not only their best 
medicine, but a useful adjunct to their dietaries. 
There are writers who attribute all the ill effects of 
alcohol to the impurity of the liquors drunk, the amount 
of fusel oil, oenanthic ether, volatile oils, and acids in them. 
These people remind us of the bon vivants who attribute 
their headaches and parched tongues to the soup, the fish, 
or the sweets. 
That certain adulterations and impurities, which pro- 
voke thirst, and so excess in drinking, are wickedly 
pernicious, we are quite ready to concede ; but that fusel 
oil is the principal deleterious agent in spirits, or that 
the brain suffers especially from it, and not from the 
alcohol, we see no reason for believing. 
But into the long category of more or less poisonous ALCOHOL. 
alcoholic mixtures we have no intention to enter. There 
are tinctures of certain herbs, as absinthe, and liqueurs, as 
vermouth, which it is likely enough exert some special 
deliriant effects upon the brain, acting in this particular 
like Indian hemp, henbane, stramonium, belladonna, 
camphor. 
Some wines inebriate more rapidly than others; others 
deteriorate the digestion especially. Light sparkling 
wines make people cheerful and talkative, heavy wines 
and beers render them morose and sleepy; but these are 
general facts which we have not time or right to discuss 
more minutely under the action of alcohol. XIX. 
MUSCULAR MOTION AS EXEMPLIFIED IN TEE 
HUMAN BODY. 
There are two things in which most men believe—-force 
and matter; but the one is so intimately blended with 
the other that, apart, we can hardly, if at all, recognise 
them. Now, of late years, since the sciences called the 
natural sciences have been more and more studied, men 
have set themselves to work to investigate what is called 
force, and have found that what were formerly held to be 
separate and distinct forces [or, as people then preferred 
calling them, imponderable bodies, that is to say, sub- 
stances which could not be weighed, and which had none 
of the other ordinary properties of matter], were in 
reality identical, and that one force passed into another 
kind of force, insensibly it might be, but not the less 
surely on that account. 
To take an example: formerly men held electricity, 
magnetism, chemical force, heat, light, and motion to be 
things totally different and distinct. Xow-a-days most 
men look upon these as one and the same, modified 
variously but still identical; so that either can take the MUSCULAR MOTION. 
427 
place of the other. As the simplest of these, motion has 
been accepted as a kind of starting-point, and hence all 
the various forces we have mentioned above, as well as 
certain others we might name, are held to be modes of 
motion. Everybody has heard of the plan adopted by 
some savage races to kindle their fires, when live embers 
are not to be had, and where lucifer matches are un- 
known. They rub together two pieces of dry wood until 
one or the other takes fire, and thus effect their purpose. 
Now, what have we here ? We shall not yet speak of 
the changes within the body which movement implies, 
but, starting with the motion given to the two pieces of 
wood, we see how motion gives rise to heat, how heat 
ends in flame—that is, light-giving chemical change— 
and so on; for with chemical change begins a new series. 
Thus, when two metals of opposite characters are acted 
upon by compound substances, like oil of vitriol, or aqua 
fortis, or blue vitriol, chemical change goes on and 
electricity shows itself, as in the ordinary galvanic 
batteries, which are now familiarised to the public at the 
different telegraph stations. Electricity, in its turn, 
acting on a bar of soft iron, makes it a temporary 
magnet, which has the same powers for the time being 
as a loadstone. Electricity may also easily be converted 
into light and heat, as in the electric light which is now 
used as a beacon to sailors at Dungeness and other 428 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
lighthouses; in the better known and far more dangerous 
form of lightning; and in the sparks which may be 
drawn from the back of a cat by stroking her fur the 
wrong way on a frosty night. A more common illus- 
tration of motion converted into heat and light is 
seen when, by the friction of a long run, the axle of a 
jailway carriage sets on fire the carriage to which it is 
attached. So much, then, for illustrations of the change 
of one kind of force into another. Now we must speak 
of those which take place within the human body. 
In the human body, as in all other machines, every 
movement implies a chemical change ; for wherever force, 
of whatever kind, makes itself apparent, there is change 
at the same time. As to the different kinds of change 
within the body, we do not now speak; we only deal 
with that implied in muscular motion. 
What, indeed, we chiefly wish to do, is to illus- 
trate the mechanics of the human body; to show, in 
other words, how much of the machine enters into its 
constitution and its various actions. Tor our purpose, 
no more apt comparison can be drawn than that which is 
afforded by the steam engine, to which, indeed, the 
human frame presents many analogies. In the first 
place, then, we may assume that the steam engine is 
composed of certain masses of iron, steel, and brass, 
arranged in certain definite forms, whilst the human MUSCULAR MOTION. 
429 
body, from our present point of view, may be assumed to 
be made up of certain bones, muscles, tendons, ligaments, 
blood-vessels, and nerves, also arranged in a definite 
fashion. And whereas the masses of metal composing 
the steam engine would be useless without the interven- 
tion of heat produced by some substance, such as coal or 
coke, and acting through the medium of steam produced 
by the action of heat on water, so the mechanism of the 
human body would be altogether useless without the 
food which we daily consume. Food stands in much the 
same relation to the human body as fuel does to the 
steam engine. 
But the food of human beings is destined to fulfil 
other ends besides those, implied by the fuel of the 
steam engine. The latter, after being constructed, 
daily wastes. Every day it becomes worse; for each 
stroke of its piston, to say nothing of the motion 
of its other parts, implies a waste of the piston it- 
self, and of the cylinder in which it is enclosed, and 
in which it works. Now, when these get out of 
order, the whole machine has to be stopped, that 
the engineer may repair the deteriorated portions; but 
this is impossible in the animal frame without death 
ensuing. So that the human body is to be looked upon 
as an engine constantly working, constantly wasting, 
and constantly repairing its own deficiencies. But, just PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
as the coal wliicli is used to drive the steam engine 
would be useless for the repair of the brass or iron of 
which the engine is composed, so would that kind of food 
which is most useful in supplying the means of motion 
in the human body be useless for repairing the waste of 
its tissues. 
From this we are led to conceive that human food 
must consist of more than one kind of material, and so it 
does. If we take the staple of life as consisting of bread 
and meat, we find there the necessary substances: for 
bread, especially white bread, consists chiefly of starch, 
which may be likened to the coal of the steam engine; 
whilst meat consists of two portions, the fat and the lean, 
of which the former goes to aid the starch in propelling 
the machine, the latter going to repair the waste entailed 
by the action of the two former. Now how should we 
set about finding out how much work a steam engine 
had done in a given time ? Not surely by estimating the 
infinitely small amount of refuse produced by the waste 
of the iron and brass, but rather by the amount of coal 
consumed. So in the human body, the work is to be 
measured by the starch and fat used up, or rather, by the 
products of these, not by the waste of the muscles [or of 
the meat in a changed form]. Nevertheless, this error 
was for a long time made in the case of man, and has 
only recently been exploded. MUSCULAR MOTION. 
Now, as to tlie different kinds of motion observed 
in man or other animals, certain of these are common to 
all kinds of bodies, animal and vegetable, as well as 
mineral. Of such kinds are the motion implied by 
chemical change, by heat, and the more marked pheno- 
mena of gravitation ; but, besides these, there are certain 
partly physical, partly vital phenomena, such as result 
from the commingling of oil and water, especially if the 
latter contain a substance like the white of egg. These 
movements were first observed by a well-known and 
distinguished botanist of this country, named Robert 
Brown, whence the movements are sometimes spoken 
of as the Brunonian, or, on account of the small size of 
the bodies concerned, molecular movements. 
If we make the acquaintance of some of the lowest 
forms of animals and vegetables, we find ourselves on 
a kind of neutral ground, the inhabitants of which might 
belong to either kingdom, and to which of these they do 
really appertain it is not easy to say. Many of these 
lowly forms of animals and plants consist of a kind of 
jelly-like material, and apparently of nothing else. They 
have no organs of sense, no organs of digestion even, nor 
of circulation. Still these little structureless particles 
have the power of motion, and even of destroying beings 
much higher than themselves in the scale of animal life. 
From one of these living masses of jelly, called an 432 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
amoeba, this kind of motion, by the protrusion of certain 
portions of the mass in any given direction, ultimately 
followed by the whole, has been termed amoeboid. Still, 
this variety of motion, not depending upon gravitation, 
but on the vital action of the living being, necessitates 
chemical change, and consequently food. It is, indeed, 
seen even in man, in whose veins, and constituting a 
portion of his blood, flow certain small rounded and 
colourless bodies called white blood corpuscles, which 
frequently exhibit similar changes; often also particles 
of the same kind in other parts of the body do the same 
thing. 
Mounting to a somewhat higher stage in animal life, 
we encounter a number of beings furnished with little 
fringe-like processes, which they can keep in constant 
motion. These fringe-like processes are termed cilia,, 
and their motion is called ciliary; it may be used to 
illustrate a point to which we shall again have occasion 
to refer. The minute beings furnished with cilia are not 
unfrequently fixed to one spot, without the power of 
changing their place of abode. In these beings the cilia 
are useful for setting up currents in the water by which 
they are surrounded, by which currents particles of food 
may be driven to the creatures which are deprived of the 
means of going in search of it. But in others, which are 
free, the motion of their cilia in the surrounding water MUSCULAR MOTION. 
433 
resembles in its effects those of the screw of a steamer, 
for thereby the little beings are rapidly propelled from 
one point to another. Perfectly similar are the effects 
of a steamer’s screw, which, the steamer being firmly 
fixed, would only be able to set up currents in the water; 
but which, when the vessel is free from the shore, drives 
it rapidly along. This same kind of motion is also 
observed in certain parts of the human body, notably in 
the air passages, which are lined by these little bodies 
constantly waving about, and tending to drive any wan- 
dering particle which may have found its way into the 
lung back to the outer air. 
Still, all these kinds of motion, as seen in the animal 
frame, sink into insignificance when compared with that 
induced by the special apparatus prepared for the 
purpose, and which we term the muscles; that is to say, 
the red fleshy parts of an animal. It is with this kind of 
motion we have mostly to deal, and this apparatus we 
must carefully describe. There are, then, two kinds of 
muscles : one set more or less completely under the 
control of the will, the other more or less completely 
beyond this; the one kind is seen to most perfection in 
the powerful muscles of the arm and leg, the other in 
such an organ as the churning apparatus of the stomach. 
It is with the former we now must deal, and it will be 
enough, in giving an idea of its structure, to recall to 434 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
the recollection of every one how a piece of meat boiled 
for a long time tends to become stringy. These strings 
are the so-called muscular fibres, which are themselves, 
in turn, made up of smaller and finer threads. 
Then, again, each muscle has a beginning and an end, 
or, as they are technically termed, an origin and an 
insertion. Most frequently both of these are connected 
with bones, the one end with one bone, the other with 
another j but sometimes this is not so, as in the case 
of the muscles which move the eyeball, one end of which 
is attached to bone, the other to the soft structures of 
the eye. But often the points to be connected are too 
far distant to be united altogether by muscular structure, 
and then, just as when a barge has to be dragged along 
by horses, a rope is used to transmit the power from the 
horse to the barge, so in the human body certain strong 
unyielding cords are employed to transmit it from the 
muscle to the bone; these we call tendons. Not un- 
frequently a muscle has a tendon of origin as well as a 
tendon of insertion; but it must be distinctly understood, 
that these are cords merely, which serve to transmit 
force from one point to another, and have nothing to do 
with the origin of the force, which depends on the 
shortening of the red muscular fibres, a property which 
is innate in them, and which is characteristic of them. 
When we examine all’ the muscles of the body (which MUSCULAR MOTION. 
435 
number upwards of 1,000), especially those of the limbs, 
we shall find that the one extremity of the majority 
is directed towards the centre of the body, the other 
towards the end of the limb, and it is the former which 
is most frequently termed the origin of the muscle. 
If now we trace a muscle and its tendon from its 
origin to its insertion, we shall most probably find 
that it passes over a spot where two bones come to- 
gether. This we term a joint, the bones being united 
in two ways, either so that the one can move upon 
the other, or so that both are immovable. It is with 
the former class we have chiefly to deal; and for our 
purpose we may assume that these joints are of two 
kinds, either ball-and-socket joints, admitting move- 
ment in every direction, as in the case of the shoulder 
joint and hip joint, or hinge-like joints, such as those 
of the elbow and knee, where the motions are more 
limited in their character, and are almost restricted to 
one direction. For the construction of these joints 
two things are necessary—smooth surfaces of bone, 
rendered still more smooth by a layer of cartilage or 
gristle, the one surface corresponding to and fitting 
into the other, and strong bands or ligaments extend- 
ing from the one bone to the other, so as to keep 
everything firmly in its place, and admit of only a 
limited degree of motion. 436 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Having explained the machinery, so to speak, of 
the human engine; having shown it to consist of 
certain self-contracting muscles, the pistons as well as 
the boilers of the machine; of tendons, its connecting 
rods or belts; of joints, the grooves in which the 
rigid bones move and work; we must fall back on 
certain elementary principles in order to explain fully 
the working of this wonderful mechanism. In every 
solid body there is a point which is termed its centre 
of gravity, which being supported, the whole body will 
be so; and this in a solid corresponds to the point 
where certain lines cut each other. In the human 
body it will not be more to one side than another, 
and will correspond with a plumb-line dropped from 
the head when the individual is standing upright. 
So, again, it will be at those points in this line where 
the weights of the upper and of the lower half counter- 
balance each other. Finally, at the point where these 
two intersect each other, and encounter a third line 
corresponding with that in which the right side of 
the body balances the left, is the centre of gravity. 
In the human being this centre is situated low down 
between the two haunch bones, but it varies with 
every movement of the body. 
Of all mechanical powers, again, the simplest are 
those known as levers, of which there are three MUSCULAR MOTION. 
437 
varieties. A lever consists of a rigid or unbending 
bar or rod, whereby a force is transmitted from one 
point to another, sometimes gaining power, sometimes 
losing it, as in the following examples. Lever No. 1 
consists of a rigid rod, movable upwards and down- 
wards only, on a given point, which is called a 
fulcrum. At the one extremity of the rod a certain 
power is exerted, at the other is the weight to be 
raised, or the body to be influenced. 
Now, when the fulcrum, is near the weight, w, 
the power, t, will have the advantage of the long 
arm of the lever; but, on the other hand, will have 
a longer distance, tb, to travel through before bring- 
ing w to a certain level, ba. On the other hand, 
were the fulcrum, P, nearer t than w, there would 
be a loss of power, but a gain in the distance to 
be travelled through; which, as it must be done in 
the same time by both arms, is technically known as 
a loss of velocity. On the other hand, were r equally 438 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
distant from t and w, both, would be in exactly the 
same predicament; there would be neither gain nor 
loss in power or velocity, but the force would be 
transmitted unimpaired from t to w, and the velocity 
with which these would pass through a given dis- 
tance would be the same. This is the condition in 
that useful example of a lever, the common balance 
for weighing sugar and tea and such like commodi- 
ties, where the pound weight is the power, the knife- 
edge by which the balance is suspended is the ful- 
crum, and the substance weighed is the weight to be 
raised. 
In lever No, 2 we have the power at one end, the 
fulcrum at the other, and the weight between the 
two; so that it is evident that in this there must 
always be a gain of power, as the weight, being 
nearer f than t, will rest more upon that extremity 
of the lever, whilst there is a loss of velocity, t 
having to travel through a greater distance in a given 
time than w has. MUSCULAR MOTION. 
439 
In lever No. 3 tlie very reverse is the case; for in 
this instance, the weight, w, is at one end, the ful- 
crum, p, being at the other, whilst the power, t, is 
between the two; so that, in this case, there is in- 
variably loss of power and gain in velocity. As 
common illustrations of these forms of levers, we 
might take of No. 1, the act of stirring the fire with 
a poker; here the coals are the weight to be raised, 
the bars of the grate are the fulcrum, and the power 
is the hand applied to the end of the poker. So, of 
No. 2, a man pushing a wheelbarrow is a good ex- 
ample; here, the fulcrum consists of the wheel rest- 
ing on the ground, the weight lies in the barrow, 
and the force is applied through the medium of the 
handles beyond it. Of the third form of lever we 
might take an example from a man in the act of 
dragging from the wall a ladder leaning against it; 
this he does by pulling one of the steps on a level 
with his shoulder (the power), and pushing his foot 
against the lowest step of the ladder (the fulcrum), 
and so raising the ladder (the weight). straight up 
in the air. 
When we come to examine the human body, we 
\ 
find examples of all these forms of levers, although 
not in the same abundance. Thus of the first, where 
the fulcrum lies between the power and the weight. PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
we may take the common illustration of a man who 
has fallen asleep in his chair, when insensibly his 
head falls forward on his chest. Suddenly he awakes, 
and throws up his head, thus calling into play a lever 
of the kind described. For here, we have the head 
hanging forward as the weight, the fulcrum is the 
back-bone on which the head rests, whilst the power 
is the muscles fixed to the back of the head and to 
the back of the chest. The same kind of action is 
seen in a horse throwing up his head after drinking, 
and so on; but levers of this kind are not very 
numerous in the human body. 
Lever No. 2 is exemplified in that kind of action 
which is implied by a man standing on tiptoe, for in 
this case the whole weight of the body, which ordin- 
arily rests on the arch of the foot, is thrown forward, 
so as to rest on the toes, by means of the strong 
muscles in the calf of the leg contracting, and drag- 
ging up the heel. The toes are the fulcrum; the 
body resting on the arch of the foot is the weight; 
and the tendon of Achilles connecting the great 
muscles of the calf with the heel represents the 
power. 
Neither is this kind of lever common in the human 
body, which, for the most part, chiefly affords illus- 
trations ,of the third kind of lever, where the weight MUSCULAR MOTION. 
441 
is at one end, the power in the middle, and the 
fulcrum at the other end. To take a common ex- 
ample : in bending the forearm and hand on the arm, 
so as to bring the hand on a level with the shoulder, 
a strong muscle, called the biceps, is brought into 
play. This is the power, and it acts on the forearm 
just in front of the elbow joint, which is the ful- 
crum, whilst the hand and anything contained in it 
represent the weight to be raised. Now, the reason 
this kind of lever is so much more common in 
the human frame than any of the others is simple 
enough. There is, in the first place, the fact that it 
admits of much greater symmetry, but, from our pre- 
sent point of view, this is of no consequence; the 
second is, that, in the animal frame, the power which 
may be applied is practically unlimited, so that a 
gain of velocity is of much greater importance than 
a loss of power, for a muscle can easily be made 
large enough to insure strength as well as swiftness. 
Still, in the human body, the means of employing 
force are identical with those seen in the steam engine, 
for there also, we have to deal with a series of levers. 
The up-and-down motion of the piston is communi- 
cated, by means of a crank, to■> a horizontal beam, 
which bears one or more toothed wheels, or some 
similar means of carrying power from one spot to 442 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
another. But these toothed wheels are only levers, 
where the axle is at once fulcrum and power, a com- 
bination which implies the greatest possible velocity 
with the greatest expenditure of power. The wheel 
which is driven by the one attached to this axle re- 
presents the weight. 
When further we come to consider these mechanical 
forces as applied in the human body, we have to notice 
that, in very many instances, the tendon of a muscle 
is inserted obliquely into its bone; this implies an 
additional waste of force, for the nearer the perpen- 
dicular a force is brought to act on the lever, the 
greater is its effect. But, just as outside the body 
we find the direction of a force changed by means of 
a pulley, so wo find the same thing accomplished in 
the body, when the tendon of a muscle is bound down 
by a sheath or a ligament, thereby effecting the change 
of direction with very little loss of power. 
In all muscular actions taking place in the human 
being, the mechanical principles we have laid down are 
observed; but they are probably best illustrated by 
the various forms of progression, that is, moving 
from one place to another, employed by the human 
being. This leads us to consider another point in. 
mechanics connected with what is known as the base 
of support, as applied to the centre of gravity. Every MUSCULAR MOTION. 
443 
one knows how much more difficult it is to keep up- 
right a tall, thin body, than a broad and flat one; 
or, to take an extreme instance, to keep a spinning 
top upright on its point than on its head. This is 
because the base of support is narrow in the one 
case, broad in the other. In walking at sea a man 
strives to keep bis feet apart, because the line from 
the centre of gravity naturally falls between his feet, 
and the farther they are apart the greater is his basis 
of support; and this habit gives to sailors their peculiar 
and, to landsmen, awkward-looking gait. There is an 
old saying, that cats always fall on their feet; the 
reason is, that the line from their centre of gravity 
falls downwards to the ground between their four 
limbs, and being extremely active they can always 
manage to keep it there. So babies, when beginning 
to move about, crawl before they walk, the centre of 
gravity being so much more easily kept within the 
base of support in the one case than in the other. As 
soon as the centre of gravity is disturbed, so that a 
hue drawn from it, perpendicular to the surface of 
the earth, falls outside the base of support, a move- 
ment must be made, or the individual will fall down. 
This explains the old trick of asking a man to walk 
op to a wall, to place one foot close to it, and parallel 
with it, and then, asking him to raise the other, he 444 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
finds he cannot do so without fallings simply because 
his centre of gravity would fall without the narrow 
base of support afforded by the one foot. 
Now let us consider the means by which a man may 
move from one place to another, thereby expending 
force in causing the contraction of certain muscles, 
these muscles acting on certain bony levers, whereby 
the body is moved. This leads us to consider the 
ordinary attitude of man in walking, the erect posture 
characteristic of the human race. The maintenance 
of this posture is not a merely passive act, for it re- 
quires the constant action of a certain number of 
muscles, which act in opposite ways, and so keep the 
human being upright. The first thing to be noted 
is the way in which the body is supported on the 
foot. The foot itself consists of an arch, the base of 
which is more extended in front than behind, and the 
whole weight of the body is made to fall on this 
arch by means of a variety of joints. These joints 
further enable the foot to be applied to rough and 
uneven surfaces, so that the flat portion of the foot may 
be adapted to these without inconvenience. The foot 
is connected with the leg by the ankle joint, before 
and behind which pass down tendons of muscles situ- 
ated in the leg and directed to the toes, so that when 
both contract equally, the leg is held firmly on the foot MUSCULAR MOTION. 
445 
or the foot on the leg. The same arrangement is seen 
at the knee and at the hip; and in each instance we 
have a series of muscles on one side which may be 
made to antagonize those on the other, and those in 
front to oppose those behind: by the simultaneous 
action of all these muscles the limb is held fast, and 
the upright position is maintained. The one set of 
muscles, which keep the limb straight, are called ex- 
tensors, those which bend the limbs are called flexors. 
It will thus be seen that the maintenance of the erect 
posture is by no means a passive effect, but the result 
of constant muscular contraction; so that when a man 
is stunned, or in any other way loses the command 
of his muscles, the first consequence is his tumbling 
down. The same names are applied to the muscles of 
the arm, but they are only called into play at intervals, 
and are not so constantly in action as the muscles of 
the lower extremities. 
Connected with this subject is a venerable joke 
current among students of medicine, to the effect that, 
once on a time, a rude examiner asked a student who 
was being examined by him, “Now, sir, what muscles 
should I call into play were I to kick you down stairs ? ** 
To which the dutiful reply was, “The extensors and 
flexors of my arm, sir, for I should immediately 
knock you down.” In this same action of kicking. 446 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
exactly the same muscles are called into play as in 
keeping the body upright, but they act in a different 
way. When a man stands erect, his foot planted, 
firmly on the ground, any contraction of the muscles 
of the foot would only result in raising the body as 
on tip-toe; but should the limb be raised off the ground 
by bending the knee, then the muscles can act freely, 
and. the foot can be moved in any direction: in the 
one case, the foot is the part most firmly fixed—in the 
other, the body is so. 
Now, in walking, the first thing done is to throw 
the weight of the body on to one limb so as to free 
the other, which is then bent and flung forward until 
it reaches the ground; the centre of gravity advancing 
so as to fall between the two limbs, and beyond the 
original basis of support. When the foremost foot 
has been planted on the ground, the hinder one is 
found to be raised at the heel, so as to rest on the 
toes only, if the forward step has been a long one; 
but this is not the case in ordinary walking. The 
muscles are now powerfully called into play so as 
to act upon the leg and foot; but this being re- 
sisted by the toes planted against the ground, the 
opposite effect takes place, that is to say, the body, 
being more movable than the foot, is thrust forward. 
The hinder foot is carried with the body until advanced MUSCULAR MOTION. 
447 
to a level or in front of the other, the centre of gravity 
being at the same time carried forward with the body. 
Running is effected in the same way, but at a quicker 
rate, and the centre of gravity is generally kept quite 
in advance of the base of support; so that, if the feet 
are not moved quickly enough, or are interrupted in 
their progress, the individual is certain to fall. 
It will thus be seen that the movements of the hu- 
man body are effected in accordance with the same 
laws as regulate movement in the inanimate world. Of 
course we do not now speak of the intelligence dis- 
played in these movements—that is a totally different 
thing; we only deal with the mechanics of motion as 
seen in, and illustrated by, the human body. In 
another chapter we shall speak of the adaptation of 
these principles to actual life in the practical forms of 
gymnastics and training. XX. 
THE INFLUENCE OF OCCUPATION ON HEALTH. 
In previous chapters we have explained the structure 
and function of various organs in health and in dis- 
ease; it is now our intention to show that many of 
the diseases to which our bodies are subject, arise 
from simple and often easily remediable accidents of 
our daily life. A very close relation exists between 
health and occupation; and the more widely a know- 
ledge of the principles of sanitary science is diffused, 
the more certainly will the health and happiness of 
our working population be secured. England cannot, 
indeed, hope to maintain her pre-eminence as a manu- 
facturing country, unless the health and vigour of her 
artisans is preserved; and the prospects of the “work- 
ing man” would be more surely advanced by improve- 
ments in his sanitary and social than by an 
increase of his political power. It is always the feeble 
and unhealthy who are the most dissatisfied with 
their lot, and clamorous for the reform millennium; 
the healthy body and satisfied mind exist together, 
and a man who has health to enable him to overcome OCCUPATION AND HEALTH. 
449 
obstacles and make Ms way in the world, is not likely 
to be very particular about the roughness of the 
road. 
The influence of occupation on the health is not a 
subject for the consideration of a single class; for 
what overwork of body does for those who earn their 
daily bread in "the sweat of their brow,” overstrain 
of mind effects for those who live by their brains. 
There have been many instances from the ranks of 
literature, science, and art, of men whose lives have 
been sacrificed by too intense devotion to their pur- 
suits. Mendelssohn, who concentrated more brain-work 
within his short life than has sufficed for many whose 
years have extended to ten decades, died of paralysis 
at thirty-eight; his premature end most surely has- 
tened by the perpetual unrest in which he spent his 
every day. 
Our subject readily divides itself into two sections, 
viz., (a) influences general and indirect; ([h) influences 
special and direct. 
Amongst the former we refer to conditions of de- 
fective ventilation, overcrowding, long hours, etc.; and 
under the latter head we shall classify the injurious 
influences of particular trades. 
The packing together of numbers of human beings 
in a confined room, tends at once to impair the purity 450 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
of the air; for its vivifying principle, oxygen, is re- 
placed by that most injurious gas, carbonic acid. It 
is a primary natural law, that man needs an abundance 
of pure air to support his healthy existence. 
“A breath of unadnlt’rate air, 
The glimpse of a green pasture, how they cheer 
The citizen, and brace his languid frame ! ” 
How imperfectly this requirement is supplied in large 
manufactories, and what a powerful source of mischief 
is at work in such places, may be indicated by the 
following facts. In 100,000 parts of pure air, there 
are rarely found more than 30 parts of carbonic acid: 
in rooms in towns, freely ventilated, the proportion 
rises to 80 parts in the same volume, while in ill-venti- 
lated rooms and workshops there have been found from 
100 to 700 parts, or twenty times allowance. 
The working classes are exposed to no more fruitful 
cause of disease than this excess of carbonic acid in 
the air which surrounds them. When a high per- 
centage of carbonic acid prevails, the circulation of 
the breathers is generally observed to become en- 
feebled, the frequency of respiration to increase, and 
nervous power to fail. Much of the consumption and 
scrofula of town populations is due to an atmosphere 
overcharged with this gas. Nothing affects its power 
for ill so much as an elevated temperature. “ Thus 
even 1 per cent, of carbonic acid may be endured at OCCUPATION AND HEALTH. 
451 
a temperature under 50° Fahrenheit, which at 70° or 
80° would be absolutely intolerable.” On entering a 
close room in which a number of persons have been 
employed for many hours, the atmosphere seems quite 
unbearable, and we gasp for an open window; while 
the workpeople, accustomed to the vitiated atmosphere, 
seem to breathe with ease, and say they do not feel 
any inconvenience. Is the closeness innocuous because 
it is not felt ? By no means. Acclimatisation is 
dearly bought. By the gradual depression of all the 
functions, less oxygen is absorbed, and the vitiated 
air then suffices for an enfeebled organism, just as it 
would for the respiration of a cold-blooded animal. 
This kind of vital depression, when frequently expe- 
rienced, is destructive to the elasticity and vigour of 
those exposed to it. In such an atmosphere, rapid 
and efficient work, to say nothing of comfort and hap- 
piness, is out of the question. It is gratifying to find 
from the last published reports of the Factory In- 
spectors, that very decided physical improvement has 
been effected by the factory regulation laws, and as a 
natural consequence “a wide-spread and almost uni- 
versal improvement in tone both of the employer and 
employed has been noticed.” Attention to the laws 
of health is thus seen to secure an immediate and per- 
manent reward. 452 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Long hours are not now, happily, so crying an evil 
as formerly, for the legislation of 1867 has placed 
reasonable limits on the time during which employers 
can keep their hands at work. There is even now, 
however, ample evidence of the prevalence of this evil, 
especially as it affects the young. In the east end of 
London, where it appears to he practically impossible 
to enforce the wholesome regulations of the Workshop 
Act, in consequence of the pauperism of the population, 
many hundreds of young children are employed from 
eight to ten hours a day in light handicrafts, such 
as the making of lucifer-match and other small boxes. 
Lord Shaftesbury’s “ Children’s Employment Commis- 
sion of 1861” brought to light many glaring instances 
of overworked children in the hosiery trades of Lei- 
cester and Derby, the straw-plaiting trade of Luton 
and Dunstable, the iron trades of South Staffordshire, 
and many others. It was invariably found that the 
most exacting taskmasters were the children’s own 
parents, and recent experience in London confirms 
this fact. What wonder that the mortality should 
be excessive in districts where children have been 
kept hard at work in a temperature varying from 
106° to 120° for six-and-thirty hours without going 
to bed, as in the glass works of Yorkshire, or where 
infants of but six years are pent up for fifteen hours OCCUPATION AND HEALTH. 
453 
out of the twenty-four in small overcrowded rooms, 
as in tlie lace schools of Nottinghamshire ? * Surely 
no more unfavourable conditions for the healthy de- 
velopment of mind and muscle could be imagined. 
The restriction of the hours of labour in factories is 
not an unmixed good. In busy seasons, the necessity 
for rapid completion of orders is at times so great 
that home work is encouraged, and there performed 
perhaps in close rooms under even more unfavourable 
conditions than exist in the factory. It is not, of 
course, possible to carry about engines and machinery, 
but in many branches of trade “ finishing work,} may 
be done at home, and the limitation-of-time enactments 
are thus rendered worse than useless. In these “ season 
trades,” as they are termed, in which for several 
months in the year there is nothing to do, and then 
for a few months more than can be readily accom- 
plished, it may perhaps be found that some slight 
modification of the law giving permission for a few 
extra work-hours per week during the summer months, 
may be found sufficient to meet their requirements. 
It is satisfactory to learn from the recent reports, that 
those employers who have acted up to the spirit of 
the “ Workshop Regulation Act ” have found that the 
* See Reports of above Commission. 454 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
increased energy and activity of the hands, when work- 
ing under improved conditions in airy rooms] leads to 
the production of as much work in ten hours and a 
half as formerly required twelve or thirteen hours. In 
the presence of this fact, it is disappointing to read 
that the lace and straw-plait schools (being neither 
factories nor workshops) escape the operation of this 
Act, and many of the bonnet makers,* who consider 
themselves “ young ladies,” resist the interference of 
any law which classifies them with “ factory workers.” 
Legislative enactments for the remedy of these evils 
exist already, which, if fully carried out, would accom- 
plish much. A sufficient cubic space must be allowed 
to every factory hand, as it is to lunatics and paupers ; 
and regard must be had no less to the quality than 
the quantity of the air supplied. 
Plainly, to manufacture perfectly pure air by Act of 
Parliament and deliver it on the premises, is impossible: 
we must, therefore, do what we can to keep it whole- 
some, by devoting strict attention to ventilation, by 
the adoption of disinfectants for drains and sewers, so 
as to kill or render innocuous all organic impurities. 
* Although “there are no bonnets made now-a-days, straw may be 
worn in a thousand fascinating shapes,” and the pressure put upon 
the producers is often temporarily so great as to lead to most dis- 
tressing breaches of sanitary laws.—B. Baker, Esq., “ Report on 
Factoriesto Oct,, 1868. OCCUPATION AND HEALTH. 
455 
and by the preservation of open spaces in and near our 
great centres of industry. The ventilation of mines 
is under legislative regulation, and with the most 
beneficial results, many lives being thus saved annually. 
The ventilation of lodging-houses is also subjected to 
police supervision in the interests of their casual occu- 
pants. Surely the thousands who spend their lives in 
our workshops and manufactories have even a greater 
claim on the care of the State. 
Much also might be done by the working classes 
themselves, by the cultivation of habits of personal 
cleanliness. The fact must not be disguised, that a 
most baneful consequence of overcrowding is the 
vitiation of the air by the emanations from the 
bodies of diseased or uncleansed persons. French 
scientific investigation has disclosed the unpleasant 
fact that skin dirt, composed of perspiration, oily 
matter, and dust, contains myriads of microscopic 
existences, both vegetable and animal. These 
cutaneous emanations are dissipated in and affect the 
air; add to these the pulmonary exhalations of con- 
sumptive and scrofulous persons, which are believed 
by some to be vehicles of contagion, and some idea 
may be formed of the risk to health incurred by those 
whose days are spent in an atmosphere so highly 
charged with organic impurities. “The greater the 456 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
aggregation of unwashed human masses, the more hor- 
rible must be the resulting atmospheric impurity.” 
(Rumsey.) 
In calculating the amount of evil arising from 
general causes, such as those now under consideration, 
the fact should not be overlooked, that although there 
may he no fatal disease, a condition of what has been 
called negative health is sure to be engendered, and 
the majority of the workers become debilitated, until 
life itself becomes a misery. 
It is impossible to over-estimate the advantages 
which accrue to those who can mitigate the effects 
of the poison inhaled during the day by a residence 
where— 
“ ’Tis rural: trees are to be seen 
From every window, and the fields are green; ” 
and it should be a matter for general congratulation 
that the building of dwellings for the labouring classes in 
the suburbs, and cheap trains for their accommodation 
have brought this immense privilege within the reach 
of many who could not a few years ago have ob- 
tained it. 
The working classes hold a remedy against long 
hours in their own hands; * but it is surprising to 
* We hope we may not be understood by this expression tacitly to 
advocate “ strikes,” lor any such attempted remedy almost always 
proves a worse evil than the disease. OCCUPATION AND HEALTH. 
457 
notice how slow they are to avail themselves of it. 
Indeed, they may be said in one respect to be con- 
senting parties to the prevalence of this evil; for the 
adults are in most instances not slow to seize the op- 
portunity of earning “overtime,” and parents will go 
so far as to put pressure upon managers to employ 
children of tender years, and do not scruple to mis- 
state the age of the little ones, so that they may not 
be brought within the clauses of the Factory Acts. 
Let operatives work more quickly while they are at 
work, that they may have time for rest or recreation 
after the day’s work is over; for by means such as 
these they are more surely promoting their best in- 
terests than by falling in with the arbitrary regulations 
of trades’ unions, as that, for instance, which enjoins 
that a man must only use one hand in laying a brick. 
The lower orders of the working classes might well 
take a lesson from the change which has passed over 
the habits of City men of business. A few years ago 
the ordinary working hours were from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m.; 
whereas now 10 to 5 is the rule; work which formerly 
occupied ten to twelve hours being now accomplished 
in half that time. But we can scarcely expect that 
any real improvement in the particulars we have men- 
tioned will result until the elementary laws of health 
are taught in our schools, and the working population 458 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
have learned how much the maintenance of the sound 
mind in the sound body, “ the only fund to which they 
must look for subsistence through life,” depends on 
themselves. May we not hope that the English work- 
man (instead of looking for assistance from the Legis- 
lature, or from benevolent societies) will determine to 
secure for himself those advantages which his own 
vigour and energy so well qualify him to attain ? 
The general or indirect influences which affect the 
health of the operative class, have hitherto engaged 
our attention. We will now refer to those directly 
attributable to certain callings. Such a large propor- 
tion of the ailments and diseases of this section of the 
population have an intimate relation to their occupa- 
tion, that it is difficult to deal with the subject within 
the limits of a single chapter. As the enumeration of 
every trade to the pursuit of which special evil may 
be traced would probably prove tedious, we present 
in a tabular form on page 190, a few of the more pro- 
minent instances. 
A few additional particulars in explanation of this 
summary may be of interest. The destructive influ- 
ence of the steel-grinding trades of the Sheffield dis- 
trict was not generally known until the fork-grinders 
(who work on dry stones) drew up a description of the 
pernicious effects of their calling; in which they de- OCCUPATION AND HEALTH. 
459 
dared that the average age of a fork-grinder did not 
exceed thirty years; that the men early contracted the 
“grinder’s complaint/’ an asthmatic cough ending in 
consumption; that “ life was a burden, and the frames 
of the poor sufferers wasted away, by a repetition of 
slow tortures.” This was no over-statement of the 
case. A poet of their own town has graphically de- 
scribed the perils incident to this occupation, and, it 
must be added, has no less truly depicted the prevailing 
character of many of its victims. 
“ There draws the grinder his laborious breath; 
There, coughing, at his deadly trade he bends; 
Born to die young, he fears not man nor death, 
Scorning the future, what he earns he spends: 
Yet Abraham and Elliot * both, in vain, 
Bid science on his cheek prolong the bloom: 
He will not live! he seems in haste to gain 
The undisturbed asylum of the tomb, 
And, old at two-and-thirty, meet his doom! ” 
Flour, and more particularly dried “ corn flour,” is 
almost as injurious as metallic dust, affecting the con- 
stitution in much the same way. Bakers and millers 
are a short-lived class of men, seldom attaining more 
than forty years. “Shoddy grinders,” boys employed 
in paper manufactories to sort, pick, and tear up old 
rags, suffer from a peculiar form of bronchitis caused 
* The inventors of the Grinder's Preservative, which the grinders 
will not use. PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Occupation. 
Average 
Hours. 
Special Evil. 
Remedial Suggestions. 
Copper and zinc workers . . . 
8 or 9 
Inhalation of sulphuric acid, and 
coke fumes 
Closed fireplaces, good flues, and 
thorough ventilation. 
Knife and fork grinders, sand- 
paper makers, glass grinders, &c. 
10 
Lung disease from irritant effects 
of metallic particles inhaled 
Magnetised wire, or other re- 
spirators. 
Millers and bakers . . * . . 
10 
Lung disease from inhalation of 
flour dust 
Revolving fans and respirators. 
Stonemasons 
10 
Lung disease from chips and dust 
of marble, stone, etc. 
Natural respirators, viz., mous- 
tache;. or artificial ditto, as 
gauze or handkerchief. 
Cocoa-nut matting makers and 
weavers. “ Shoddy grinders ” 
. . . 
Bronchial affections from inhala- 
tion of dust 
Gauze respirators. 
Tailors and shoemakers , . . 
12 to 20 
Confined posture in close atmo- 
sphere 
Adoption of sewing machines, 
change of position, and venti- 
lated work-rooms. 
Milliners ........ 
Uncertain 
Close rooms, long hours, and 
night-work 
Shorter hours, and airy working 
and sleeping rooms. 
Sewing-machine hands.... 
10 
Stooping posture in close rooms 
Ditto. i 
Warehousemen 
8 to 10 
Dusty and straining work, lifting 
heavy goods beyond strength 
Care not to overtax physical 
powers. 
Telegraph clerks 
12 
Close concentration of mind in 
confined atmosphere 
Working in relays. OCCUPATION AND HEALTH. 
461 
Occupation, 
Average 
Hours. 
Special Evil. 
Remedial Suggestions. 
Law stationers and commercial 
clerks 
Very irre- 
gular 
Compression of chest, producing 
malformation, and confining 
free action of heart and lungs, 
writers’ cramp, or scribe palsy 
A back to the high stool, light 
and flexible penholders. 
Lucifer-match, makers .... 
Contact with phosphorus, pro- 
ducing Jaw disease, ‘‘ necrosis ’’ 
The use of amorphous phos- 
phorus. 
Artificial flower and green paper 
makers 
... 
Poisoning by arsenite of copper, 
causing loss of hair, loss of 
appetite, nausea, eruptions on 
the face, etc., etc. 
The use of non-arsenical pig- 
ments. 
Looking-glass silyerers. and baro- 
metermakers. “Watergilders” 
, . . 
Mercurial poisoning from absorp- 
tion of mercury into the system 
Careful washing, and the avoid- 
ance of direct contact with 
the mercury. Electro-gilding. 
Printers and compositors . . . 
16 to 18 
Close atmosphere contaminated 
by constant gas-burning 
Ventilation. 
Type-founders, plumbers, and 
painters 
10 to 12 
Paralysis, wrist palsy, muscular 
wasting, caused by antimony 
and lead-poisoning 
Machinery for mixing paints, 
frequent handwashing, especi- 
ally before meals. 
Engine-drivers and stokers . . 
Irregular 
Exposure to cold and wet, and 
heat of fire 
Covered engines, as in Eussia, 
America, etc. 462 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
by tbeir dusty work, and chaffcutters and many 
others are similarly affected. The principal predis- 
posing cause of the ailments of tailors and shoe- 
makers is the adherence of these trades to the practice 
which demands that while at the “ board” they shall 
squeeze themselves up into the most ridiculous of 
postures: which it is obvious must considerably cur- 
tail the space allotted to the free action of the vital 
organs. The adoption of the sewing machine is, how- 
ever, taking much work out of the hands of the journey- 
men tailors, a girl being able in a week to attain as 
great proficiency in sewing or stitching as an appren- 
tice would take two years to achieve with his unassisted 
needle. 
The hard lot of milliners is well known. We mention 
their case only for the purpose of suggesting that the 
public who employ them might, by careful foresight, 
do more than the masters for the alleviation of their 
misfortunes. 
Our readers will hardly have expected to find that 
sewing machines, so freely spoken of as the remedy for 
the grievances of overworked seamstresses, may be 
themselves classed among agents of mischief ; but some 
machines work heavily with an up-and-down movement 
from the hip, which soon becomes extremely wearing; 
while others are set in motion by a fight heel-and- OCCUPATION AND HEALTH. 
463 
toe action, which may be long carried on without in- 
jury. 
Our writing masters must be held responsible for 
much of the disease which attacks those who spend their 
lives at the desk, since children are taught to write 
with their bodies twisted into almost impossible con- 
tortions over their copy-books, instead of being allowed 
to sit in an easy, natural attitude. We can recommend 
those who have to write much, to adopt Lord Palmer- 
ston’s plan of standing while they write, or else to 
sit on a chair with a back to it which may bo drawn 
near the desk, and thus supply a rest for the back. 
The arsenical compounds, mercury, lead, and anti- 
mony, the special bane of artificial flower makers, 
meteorological instrument makers, and of plumbers, 
painters, and printers, are subtle poisons which insinuate 
themselves into the system, and, as surely as they find 
an entrance, produce most disastrous results. Arsenic 
and mercury speedily induce a combination of disorders 
which end in an early death, whilst lead and antimony 
deal far less mercifully with their victims. It is the 
feature of lead-poisoning that all the natural functions 
are impeded; the removal of effete and injurious matters, 
which is continually taking place in a healthy person, 
is checked; and therefore the poison remains and accu- 
mulates in the system until circulation and respiration 464 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
become enfeebled, and death ensues. A painter, when 
discussing his midday meal, should realise that the lead 
in the paint on his hands is passing by little and little, 
via the bread and cheese, into his stomach, and may 
become the fruitful parent of many disorders. 
A preparation of white lead (sugar of lead, as it is 
termed, from its sweet taste) has been largely used to 
whiten straw hats and bonnets. The dust is diffused 
through the air, and is inhaled and swallowed by the 
workpeople in such quantities as to be most injurious. 
Much illness has thus arisen, and several lives have 
been sacrificed. It has been suggested by a practical 
chemist, whose attention was drawn to the evil in 
question, that a paste composed of sulphate of baryta 
might be employed instead of the lead. This has been 
found to work well, and is quite innocuous. The white 
oxide of zinc will on trial be probably found equally 
fitted for the purpose. We would fain hope that we 
shall hear no more of lead-poisoning in the straw-plait 
trades. 
These insidious foes are much more readily kept out- 
side the walls, than ejected when they have succeeding 
in forcing an entrance into the citadel, and the workers 
in these metals should carefully adopt simple but effec- 
tual preventive measures. Too much attention cannot 
be given to frequent and thorough cleansing, and a OCCUPATION AND HEALTH. 
465 
very Pharisaic dread of eating with hands unwashed 
would prove most wholesome. 
One or two exceptional cases, which well illustrate 
our subject, have recently been brought under obser- 
vation. A man suffering from lead-poisoning came to us, 
and in reply to our inquiry as to its cause, informed 
us that he was a clown, and had been using oxide of 
lead in order to give his complexion tbe particular 
hue required by the traditional usages of the stage. 
White zinc would not have been so dangerous, though 
probably equally effective. This incident may be a 
warning to others who seek to improve their appear- 
ance by the use of similar means, for clowns are not 
the only persons who resort to external applications 
for “ beautifying ” the complexion. ' * 
The men employed in riveting iron ships long suffered 
from the consequences of inhaling the noxious fumes 
from the furnaces used for heating the rivets within 
the ship’s hold; fresh air could only be obtained 
through the hatchways, and the men died. At length 
a remedy was found; the rivets were heated on deck, 
and allowed to slide down pipes to the part of the ship 
where they were required. The products of combustion, 
so destructive in the above case, make the atmosphere 
of tunnels and of the Metropolitan Railway oppressive, 
and prove injurious to the men employed on the under- 466 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
ground line. This poison is most rife when, in a fit 
of misplaced economy, an attempt is made to burn 
impure and smoke-producing coke. 
It will have been noticed that most of the occupations 
to which allusion has been made, have been such as 
are carried on indoors. The fact that those whose 
avocations expose them to the inclemencies of the 
wind and weather are far more healthy and long-lived 
than those who work under cover, is as remarkable as 
it is undoubted. When times of depression in trade 
occur, those whose business has kept them within doors 
cannot stand exposure to the elements, and are specially 
unfitted for emigration, however it may be called for 
by the terrible increase of our pauper population. To 
transport broken-down factory hands, and expect them 
to till the soil of our colonies, is plainly a mistake; 
but the scheme of taking their children to grow up 
in the open air where food is plentiful, instead of in 
crowded alleys where meat is at starvation prices, com- 
mends itself to all, provided that means are adopted 
for the proper care and protection of the youthful 
colonists. 
In conclusion, let it ever be borne in mind that what- 
ever may be the specific dangers attaching to particular 
occupations, there is no disease so deadly as no occu- 
pation at all; it is a rust that corrodes, and a canker OCCUPATION AND HEALTH. 
467 
that corrupts all vital power both of body and mind. 
The absence of definite purpose in life, and of regulated 
effort to realise that purpose, is productive of the fatal 
distemper, of the languid stagnation of ennui, or of 
the distorted and morbid activities of hypochondriasis, 
rendering God’s gift of life a burden or a torment. 
It is never to be forgotten that labour is a law of 
our being; and even if there be some penalty involved 
in the difficulties and dangers attaching to labour, still 
it is at once man’s glory and happiness to surmount 
and overcome them. Lord Stanley has feelingly and 
eloquently depicted the miseries affecting those who 
by their worldly position seem exempted and hold 
themselves exempt from the law of labour, and has 
commiserated those who consume much and produce 
nothing; production in proportion to power is the 
secret of a happy balancing of mind and body. 
No one can take even a superficial view of the world 
in which we live, of the vast and ever unfolding secrets 
stored within its bosom, and of the marvellous faculties 
by which man is fitted to discover, develop, and apply 
those secrets, without feeling that well-regulated labour 
is happiness; that indolence is death; that “ labour ” 
is graven with a pen of inspiration over the field of 
the universe. XXL 
TRAINING AND GYMNASTICS. 
We have dealt with the theory of motion as applied to 
the mechanism of the human body, and we have spoken 
of the application of our principles to one of the simplest 
forms or modes of animal motion, namely to walking. 
Nevertheless, although the power of changing its place 
is one of the great characteristics of an animal, in the 
case of the human being there are acts much more 
complex, and which require a more prolonged training 
than mere locomotion. Many of these movements in- 
volve the simultaneous or successive action of various 
groups of muscles, and each of these groups must be 
trained to take its appropriate portion of duty. Many of 
them also require great speed in their performance, 
others again great force, and sometimes both are ne- 
cessary ; but it may be safely assumed that if such be 
the case, i.e., if both speed and force are necessary, the 
stage of training requisite for the due and proper per- 
formance of the action will become of necessity more 
important and more lengthy. Herein lies the difference 
between the labour of a skilled mechanic and a raw TRAINING AND GYMNASTICS. 
469 
apprentice. But, besides special training for special 
efforts, it is now-a-days well recognised that, for the 
human body to attain its greatest beauty and its greatest 
power, it is necessary to train not one set of muscles, 
or even several sets, but all in turn, and it is on this 
account that gymnastics have of late years received the 
attention they have, not only as a means of physical 
or bodily education, but also as a method of curing 
disease. Both of these subjects we shall consider in 
turn; but we shall first speak of the preparatory process, 
or that of training. 
By all nations in a comparatively rude state of 
civilisation, feats of strength are highly esteemed; 
and among those which have attained a higher stage, 
strength when combined with skill is still valued and 
respected. Among the ancients, both Greeks and 
Homans, games of strength and skill were frequent, 
and even till lately boxing and prize-fighting were 
favourably received among ourselves. But then, as 
now, to a candidate for popular favour a prolonged 
stage of training was necessary before he could hope 
to attain to eminence; hence there arose a class of 
trainers for such exercises, as we have now-a-days at 
our universities in the form of grinders, men who 
train candidates for mental instead of bodily en- 
counters. Gradually the plan adopted by these men PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
grew into a system, merely from experience, not 
from any scientific notions, and it is tliis system we 
have to examine. 
If a man sets about any unusual exertion, say running 
a race, lie will soon become painfully aware of the efforts 
required to keep up his circulation and his respiration; 
his heart will thump against his side, and his breath 
come thick and fast; whereas a man by his side may 
be going along as quietly and as easily as possible; 
but then he has been trained. We have shown how 
scientific mechanical principles may be brought to bear 
on human movements, how the muscles act on the bones 
as levers, how the muscles themselves may be likened 
to a steam engine. But to enable this engine to do its 
work, fuel is necessary, and this is supplied by the 
blood; if, therefore, the engine is called upon to move 
faster than usual, more fuel will be necessary, and the 
blood will require to be driven more rapidly through 
its textures. But as the blood soon becomes fouled 
with the products of its combustion, it requires renewing, 
and air must be admitted more rapidly into the lungs 
to carry off the foul gases produced. Hence increased 
muscular action implies a more rapid circulation of the 
blood and a more frequent breathing than are ordinarily 
required. This, then, is the scientific basis on which 
we have to proceed. TRAINING AND GYMNASTICS. 
471 
Trainers of the olden times supposed they had to 
contend against a fearful and concealed enemy which 
they called inward fat; and it was to dislodge this 
formidable antagonist, their efforts were chiefly directed. 
It was this, they said, which impeded respiration and 
circulation, which made a man puff and blow, and made 
his heart kick against his side. So far, no doubt, 
they were right; for fat will accumulate internally as well 
as outwardly, and especially the heart may so become 
affected, although this is not the dread foe to human life 
about which medical men talk; for there is another form 
of fatty heart, where the very texture of the muscle of 
the heart is turned into fat, and there is so little hope of 
training a man with such a heart to become an athlete, 
that the quieter he keeps himself the better for his life. 
Nevertheless, fat may accumulate, and so render the 
action of the heart less effective; but this is not the true 
explanation of the difficulty of breathing experienced 
by men suddenly called to unwonted exertions, for it 
occurs equally to fat men and to lean. 
Every one is familiar with the fact that a man’s bodily 
conformation materially depends on his employment; 
hence the strong sledge-hammer arm of the blacksmith, 
the horny hand of the shoemaker, and so of a variety 
of other occupations. Eor the human body is so con- 
stituted, that if any part is called upon for unusual 472 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
exertion, this exertion implies more rapid change of 
the blood in its parts, as well as a more liberal supply of 
that all-necessary fluid, which in its turn insures in- 
creased growth and bulk of the part. Thus, therefore, 
in a healthy individual increased exertion implies in- 
creased bulk and increased capacity for exertion. This 
is the basis of the training system, and the basis applies 
equally to external and internal organs. If any of a 
man5s muscles be suddenly and unexpectedly called upon 
to perform some duty to which they are not accustomed, 
whether raising a heavy weight from the ground, throw- 
ing it from one spot to another, running or leaping— 
in short, any unwonted exertion—they will fail to per- 
form it as satisfactorily as those which have been trained 
to their work. Further, the exertion will leave behind 
an uncomfortable soreness, which may last a day or two, 
indicating that the parts have been strained in per- 
forming this novel duty; but should the exertion be 
persevered in, the sense of soreness will become less 
and less till it entirely disappears; the exertion required 
to perform the act will also be less and less, for the 
muscles will be strengthened by each new exertion 
until finally they will perform their duty easily and 
satisfactorily. 
But what applies to the outer parts of the body also 
applies to the more internal; for the heart, whereby the TRAINING AND GYMNASTICS. 
473 
blood is circulated, is a hollow muscle, and the principal 
forces whereby respiration is effected are also muscular. 
Now, a man’s heart and his respiratory muscles may be 
good enough for ordinary purposes, he may have no 
difficulty of breathing nor any inconvenience of circula- 
tion, and yet if any extraordinary exertion is required, 
both heart and lungs may fail to do their duty in their 
usual quiet and imperceptible fashion. The cause of 
this will be readily intelligible from what we have already 
said—both the circulatory and the respiratory apparatus 
require training if they are to be called upon for any 
special efforts, just as with the more external muscles 
of the body. 
A proper system of training must accordingly be one 
which provides for the due exercise of all the muscles, 
voluntary, respiratory, and circulatory ; but it should also 
imply a diet best suited for the development of the 
muscles, that is, the formation of hard flesh, not of fat, 
for fat is not only useless, but injurious, from a trainer’s 
point of view. Most of our readers will remember the 
general interest which was excited by Mr. Banting, when 
he published his pamphlet on corpulence. In this Mr. 
Banting pointed out the proper means to be adopted 
for getting rid of superfluous flesh, as it is euphoniously 
termed—in reality, of fat; he showed that a diet con- 
sisting almost entirely of meat, or of substances con- 474 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
taming little starch or fat, would, in course of time, 
reduce any one to the desired condition. This mode of 
procedure was enthusiastically adopted by a multitude 
of followers, some of whom indulged in it—if we may 
use the expression—or at all events carried it, so far 
as to make themselves seriously ill. Now, in the olden 
time something of the same system was adopted; men 
Were fed on half-raw beef-steaks (biftecks sanglants, 
as the horrified French restaurateurs call them) with a 
small proportion of stale bread and certain vegetables. 
No beer or spirits of any kind were allowed. No doubt 
in the main this process was correct, for the meat would 
be the best thing to nourish the muscles, that is to say, 
to supply the waste of the engine; but it is not the best 
thing for fuel, for some other article of diet should bo 
used as well as- bread and meat, otherwise the system 
is sure to suffer. 
Our readers may have seen the statement in the news- 
papers about the period of the University boat race, last 
year especially, that the Cambridge crew was trained 
too fine. This simply means that they had had too much 
work to do, and that their limited diet had told upon 
them, and made them weaker than they otherwise would 
have been. Many of these men while training suffer 
from boils, almost invariably an indication of a low state 
of bodily health, and not unfrequently more serious TRAINING AND GYMNASTICS. 
475 
results supervene. Navvies, again, are a class of men 
who work harder than most others, and their diet is 
often principally made up of bread, bacon, and beer; 
now this diet, although more liberal in several respects 
than that allowed by trainers, is still too limited; for not 
unfrequently these men suffer from scurvy almost iden- 
tical in its character with that which afflicts seamen on 
long voyages when their ships are badly provisioned. 
It is further well known that a man cannot be kept in a 
high state of training for any length of time; he may be 
brought to perfection as far as muscular strength is 
concerned, but he cannot be kept there except his diet 
be altered; if not, he trains too fine. Now-a-days, 
however, trainers are becoming wiser. Mr. Maclaren, 
for instance, the well-known Oxford trainer, has pub- 
lished a work, which ought to be read by any one who 
sets about fitting himself for any great bodily exertion; 
he has pointed out the errors of the older systems, and 
shown that with the new better results may be attained. 
He boldly attacks the ancient beliefs as to inward fat and 
such-like superstitions, and founds his system on a 
strictly physiological groundwork. The first and most 
important consequence of this change in doctrine is a 
change of diet, which, under the new system, is much 
more liberal than of old. 
Diet no doubt constitutes an important portion of any 476 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
system of training; by it alone., as we have seen, bodily 
changes of considerable importance may be effected, but 
by it alone we cannot develop our muscles, or give the 
frame unusual power and endurance. For this, exercise 
is necessary. As we have again and again said, in- 
creased action implies increased waste, but also more 
speedy growth as well as greater development, whence 
its value in a system of training. But exercise to do 
good should be systematised, and that now-a-days has 
been done, the system constituting what is called 
Gymnastics. We have said a system, for gymnastics, 
except undertaken systematically, are useless. Further, 
we have pointed out that gymnastics should be em- 
ployed for two special objects; the one as a means of 
educating the body, the other for curing it in certain 
forms of disease. Then, again, according to the end 
in view, the character of the exercises should vary, 
and accordingly we have two systems to deal with, 
known respectively as light and heavy gymnastics. 
Exercise, although the fact is too often overlooked, 
is really one of the necessaries of life. Man has been 
condemned to earn his bread by the sweat of his 
brow, but in return his labour has been blessed to 
him, for thereby his body is strengthened, his happi- 
ness increased, and his life prolonged. There are 
two great motives or inducements to exertion; these TRAINING AND GYMNASTICS. 
477 
are., tlie necessity for eating and the love of off- 
spring, and of these two the former is undoubtedly 
the stronger; but, as bearing on our subject, it is 
interesting to note that where little or no exertion is 
necessary to procure sufficient food, just as where a 
supply large enough for ordinary wants cannot be 
obtained even with great exertion, the human race is 
of an inferior kind. It attains its maximum develop- 
ment where food is plentiful, but where it is necessary 
to work hard for it. Neither the negro, who can ob- 
tain a livelihood with scarcely any trouble, nor the 
Esquimaux, who can hardly procure one at all, can be 
compared in bodily or mental vigour with the European 
or the stalwart American settler. 
But in many occupations under our system of civilised 
or divided labour, certain parts of the body are called 
into play to the exclusion of others; and it should be 
the special function of gymnastics to remedy this 
tendency to unequal development. No one who, 
especially in our large towns, has had occasion to 
examine the chests of a number of individuals—a 
process the necessity for which in our hospitals is pain- 
fully frequent—can have failed to be struck with the 
multitude of badly formed busts and undeveloped 
bodies which come before him. Now, for these, in 
many instances, a process of physical education would 478 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
be their salvation. Unfortunately it is not always to 
be bad, for slcilled masters in tbis department are mucb 
rarer tban in those which relate to mental growth. 
Then, again, with reference to another and perhaps 
a more interesting matter still, mammas constantly 
complain of the difficulty they have in getting their 
darlings to sit upright when they come to the age of 
fifteen or sixteen. Only the other day we were asked 
what should be done with a young lady who would 
not sit upright: our repty was unhesitating—“ Let her 
have a course of light gymnastics.” Some of our fair 
readers may remember their sufferings under the old 
system—not altogether, we are afraid, banished even 
now—of back-boards; and bearing in mind their hours 
of penance in them, they may desire to avert such 
troubles from their daughters: to these also we say, 
“ Substitute gymnastics.” Growth at the period of 
life of which we speak is remarkably rapid both in 
boys and girls; they shoot up and become tall and 
lanky, they want filling out, and are troubled with 
growing pains. Even men, when tall and thin, are 
seldom very erect, their muscles are too weak; and 
there is only one way of overcoming this weakness 
—by exercising them. Strengthen the muscles, and 
the drooping shoulders and semi-erect gait will dis- 
appear. TRAINING AND GYMNASTICS. 
479 
Muscles are intended for interrupted, not continuous 
action; give them intervals of rest, and they will go 
on acting, we had almost said for ever. But, it may 
bo objected, there is the heart, which you have told 
us is really a hollow muscle; were it to cease to act, 
we should die. No doubt this is true in one sense: 
were it permanently to cease to act, undoubtedly we 
should die, but it is not continually contracting, it 
alternately contracts and expands, action and repose 
succeed each other even in the case of the heart, and 
still more should this be so with other muscles. To 
place a child upright against a straight board, or even 
on a music-stool, without any support, is not to give 
the muscles free play, but rather to confine their effect 
to a rigid and unyielding fixation of the body. Here 
it is all action and no repose for certain muscles, all 
repose and no action for others, and this is the very 
thing to be avoided; uniform development, the result 
of uniform exertion, is that at which we should aim. 
One of the most serious features of life in the pre- 
sent age, is the rate at which men of action live in the 
great crowds which constitute our modern cities. The 
numerous inventions which have enabled us to vanquish 
time and space, have entailed on us the necessity of 
living fast, to use the word in its plain sense. He 
that would win the race of life must be at least as 480 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
speedy as ids fellow competitors. So much, depends 
now-a-days on education, both general and special, that 
parents are encouraged to force, as it were, the intel- 
lects of their children. A boy that is fond of his 
books is favoured over his rougher and hardier fellows, 
who prefer exercise in the open air to study: perhaps 
in our modern civilisation this is natural, but there 
can be no doubt that when carried to any great extent 
it is prejudicial. For a man to fight well the battle of 
life, nothing is more essential than a sound mind in a 
healthy body, but to insure a healthy body nothing is 
more needful than a due indulgence in the healthy 
sports of childhood, a due proportion of bodily, as 
contra-distinguished from mental, exertion in boyhood 
and manhood. The fine physique of our nation is no 
doubt to some extent due to our partiality for out- 
door sports, and doubtless also the effect reacts on the 
cause. All this only serves to illustrate our thesis, 
which is that education of the body is as necessary as 
education of the mind, and that the powers of the one 
should be cultivated alike with the powers of the 
other. 
For all of these purposes gymnastics is the instru- 
ment we would employ; not gymnastics in the 
sense of such exploits as those of Blondin, Leotard, 
and the thousand-and-one nameless performers who TRAINING AND GYMNASTICS. 
481 
alternately delight and horrify their eye-witnesses—we 
cannot call them audiences—but gymnastics in the 
sense of a system of physical education. Now it is 
quite clear that the exercises which would be calculated 
to fit a strong and hardy man for the Oxford and 
Cambridge boat race, would be altogether unsuited 
for a gentle and tender girl who had a tendency to 
stoop. Hence it is good to speak of light and heavy 
gymnastics, the former adapted for the weaker class of 
learners, the other for those of stronger frames and 
more mature years. Further, we may classify gym- 
nastic apparatus into movable and fixed; and we may 
deal with exercises specially intended to develop the 
upper parts of the body, and exercises specially in- 
tended to develop the lower limbs, as well as those 
which affect both. 
As already pointed out, every judicious series of 
exercises will imply a training of the organs of respi- 
ration and circulation. Walking and running are those 
which perhaps most readily effect this, as they do not 
interfere with the upper limbs, and hence they are 
chiefly employed for improving “ the wind ” as it is 
called, for when the arms are brought into play for 
any powerful effort, say pulling at or lifting a heavy 
weight, if there be great resistance, the on-looker will 
speedily observe the performer become redder and 482 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
redder in the face, till he is almost purple. The reason 
of this is that, the muscles of his arms having proved 
insufficient to effect the removal of the body causing 
the resistance, he has called a new set of muscles 
into play by fixing his chest, so that during these 
powerful efforts no breath can be taken. Consequently, 
as the blood is rapidly undergoing change in the rigid 
and contracted muscles, and as the heart continues to 
drive the blood thus fouled through all parts of the 
body, it not being aerated by passing through the 
closed lung, the surface darkens, and the blood which 
should pass through the lung accumulates outside it, 
the two together producing the reddening and darken- 
ing of the features. This is straining the lung, not 
exercising it: it is equally injurious to both lungs and 
heart, for both are alike strained, the lungs to resist, 
the heart to drive on, the blood current. Hence, for 
gymnastics of the lungs and heart, exercises which do 
not involve the upper limbs should be selected. 
It has been suggested that to exercise the lungs, 
that is to say to train them, the playing upon wind 
instruments might be usefully employed. Now, the 
playing upon such instruments as the flute and flageolet 
requires, comparatively speaking, little effort compared 
with that necessary in playing the more powerful brass 
instruments; and, provided the former be not used in TRAINING AND GYMNASTICS. 
483 
excess, would have, to say the least of it, no prejudicial 
effect on the lungs. This is not so with the others of 
which we have spoken. Only the other day, a bands- 
man came before us, pale and wasted. One would have 
supposed, to look at him, that he was consumptive. 
On examining his chest, however, it was soon found 
that it was not his lungs, but his heart, which was 
affected. He was suffering from one of the worst 
forms of heart disease, such as is generally induced by 
too great a strain on the organs of circulation, and 
which in his case led to speedy death. In this instance 
there could be absolutely no other cause traced than 
the nature of his employment. 
The reason one set of instruments might be used 
in the way hinted at, and not another, may be 
readily explained. The essential part of the exercise 
in blowing wind instruments consists in a sudden and 
complete dilation of the lung with air, and its sub- 
sequent ejection, more or less forcibly and more or less 
gradually, the lung acting like the bag in the bagpipe. 
The complete distension of the lung is, as a rule, a 
good thing; but when great force is employed to empty 
it, when the escape of the air is resisted in any way, 
the proper and equable flow of the blood through the 
body, and especially through the lung, is prevented. 
Hence it is that in players on large brass instruments 484 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
the face is congested and red during their exertions j 
hence also results the injury to the heart, with some- 
times, it may he added, destruction of certain portions 
of the lung. Thus, to exercise the lungs aright we 
should aim at their full distension, hut at the same 
time at a free expulsion of the respired air \ and there 
is no better method of insuring this than exercise on 
foot, walking or running as the case may he. 
To one entering a modern gymnasium for the first 
time, the scene irresistibly appeals to his imagination 
as a representation of some medimval place of torture. 
The spars, the ropes, and the restless figures swinging 
to and fro give the place a character quite peculiar to 
itself. Now, the exercises employed as a means of 
training in these establishments are mostly of two 
kinds ; in one the body is the fixed point, in the other 
it is the movable portion of the apparatus. Certain 
also of the exercises are intended to develop the upper 
limbs, certain others the lower, but the former are 
the more numerous and important. It is further to 
be remarked that a great many of our sports and 
pastimes tend to develop one side or portion of the 
body more than another, a thing which should, if 
possible, be avoided, equable development being most 
desirable. Thus football favours the growth of the 
lower limbs; cricket, the lower limbs and right arm; TRAINING AND GYMNASTICS. 
485 
rowing, the lower limbs, loins, and arms; racquets, 
tennis, etc., chiefly the lower limbs; fencing, the lower 
limbs and right arm; walking, running, leaping, etc., 
the lower limbs only. To counteract the influence of 
these, or perhaps, more exactly, to correct it, is the 
function of the teacher of gymnastics; and it is for 
this reason, perhaps, that most gymnastic exercises 
tell largely on the arms. 
We have already pointed out that movement is the 
great thing in all exercises. To overcome resistance 
as well as to secure motion, no doubt, implies the ex- 
penditure of more force; but mere movement is in 
many cases a gain real and decided. Athletes will 
boast of the size of their biceps (the large muscle 
which stands prominently out when the arm is bent 
at the elbow, so as to bring the fist to the shoulder), 
and of the weight of the dumb-bells they can use; 
but the wise man will think less of these things than 
of the fact that his muscles are getting that exercise 
which is essential to their well-being and to his healthy 
condition. What we chiefly insist on is, that motion 
is of more importance than is violent exercise, and 
hence that light apparatus may be quite as efficacious 
as heavier implements. 
An American, called Dio Lewis, has issued a work 
and a series of apparatus which will be found useful 486 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
in the physical training of boys., girls, or invalids. The 
apparatus is contained in a small box, and consists of 
a pair of light wooden dumb-bells, a pair of very- 
light Indian clubs, a long wooden rod, and a pair of 
wooden rings, the last for combined exercises. In Mr. 
Maclaren’s system, dumb-bells are alone recognised, 
all the more difficult exercises being accomplished by 
means of fixed apparatus. What are called gymnasiums 
are sometimes advertised in the papers: these usually 
consist of a number of cords, composed of India- 
rubber, which the individual desirous of exercising 
himself is supposed to pull out, the elasticity of the 
rubber causing the recoil. This is all very well; but 
the apparatus is expensive, and, it must be added, un- 
satisfactory, except for exercising certain definite groups 
of muscles under the direction of a surgeon. Nothing 
more is wanted than what we have mentioned (light 
dumb-bells, light Indian clubs, and a rod); and, in- 
deed, it may be said that the motion of the body itself, 
without any extra artificial resistance like that afforded 
by dumb-bells, Indian clubs, and such like, is quite 
sufficient for the purposes of physical education. 
There is with few exceptions a tendency for the 
right side to attain a superiority over the left. It 
is advisable in certain respects to counteract this 
tendency. Hence exercises in physical education should TRAINING AND GYMNASTICS. 
487 
take cognisance of one side as well as of the other. 
There are, however, certain cases where this should 
not he so; but these come more under the notice of 
the medical man. They are cases of deformity or 
partial paralysis. 
Many kinds of mal-development are best treated by 
gymnastics. Take for instance what is called the 
pigeon breast. In this the breast-bone of the individual 
projects far forwards and forms a ridge like that of 
a fowl; his ribs are flattened and too straight, running 
almost directly backwards. The chest, which contains 
the lungs and heart, is therefore too narrow from side 
to side, too wide from back to front; but the latter 
does not compensate for the former. Such individuals 
are always unhealthy. They are liable to coughs and 
colds, and very frequently are consumptive. Had they 
when young, before the bones were too firmly set and 
knit together, been put through a regular series of 
exercises which would tend to expand the chest, this 
would have been avoided, and the individuals might 
have been strong and healthy. In no case is it too 
late to do something, provided only the exercises bo 
judicious; for this, after all,'is the main point. They 
should be regularly graduated, becoming more and 
more active till something of the desired result has 
been attained. 488 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Others, again, suffer from a peculiarity the very 
reverse of that just alluded to; their breast-bones, 
instead of projecting or bulging, retreat and form a 
hollow at their lower portions. This condition is fre- 
quently observed in shoe-makers who have taken to 
their trade early in life, and whose health has not been 
satisfactory. Many of these operatives work with the 
boot or shoe constantly pressing on the lower part of 
the breast-bone, so that if the bone is soft, as it is 
in certain forms of disease, or indeed we might say 
as it is in all unhealthly conditions early in life, a per- 
manent indentation is the result. In such conditions 
also gymnastics is the appropriate remedy. 
Nor does the application of exercise to medicine 
cease here. Ling, an enthusiastic Swede, conceived 
that gymnastics might be much more widely used than 
they even now are in the treatment of diseased con- 
ditions, especially of deformities. He was, in course 
of time, able to erect a building devoted to this pur- 
pose, and even now this institution and many others 
on the Continent are engaged in the work of healing. 
There is no deformity more painful to the sufferer 
or to the beholder than a crooked spine. But of this 
there are two kinds. In one the bones are thrust 
abruptly backwards, so as to form a projecting angle; 
and, as this generally depends on disease of the bone. TRAINING AND GYMNASTICS. 
489 
little is to be done for it. In the other the spine is 
curved, but not angular, and the curve is to one side, 
not backwards. One shoulder is higher than the other, 
and the sufferer has what is called a hunch-back. This 
may also to some extent depend on diseased bone, but 
it is certainly favoured by weak muscles. Exercise, 
therefore, which will tend at once to straighten the 
spine and to strengthen its supporting muscles, should 
be encouraged; that is, if there is nothing to indicate 
thas its employment might cause mischief. Thus, 
were the bones in a state of actual and active disease, 
rest should be urged; but if there is nothing more 
than a mere softness of their texture, exercise is the 
best remedial measure possible. It has been too much 
the practice to bolster up such unfortunates in iron 
cases of all kinds, what are called spinal supports 
among the number, and in certain conditions these 
are, no doubt, requisite; but we strongly insist on 
the fact that in particular instances they are as injurious 
as exercise would be in others. 
Let us take another illustration. Painters, who 
have much to do with white lead, are extremely liable, 
after a time, to what is called lead-poisoning. The 
lead by degrees gets into their system, and gradually 
their health deteriorates. They become subject to 
colicky pains, their bowels are confined, and finally, if PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
they have not taken warning, they have "dropped 
wrist.” The dropped wrist depends on a partial paraly- 
sis, a palsy which affects certain muscles, and certain 
muscles only. The patient may be unable to lift up 
his hand, so that the back of it shall be turned up- 
wards ; yet he may have perfect power to close his 
fist and to grasp any bod}?- with nearly his usual force. 
In short, the extensor muscles of his hand are para- 
lysed. The same thing, or something similar to it, 
may occur to other muscles without evidence of any 
kind of poisoning, so that we may consider the two 
kinds of paralysis together, putting aside for a mo- 
ment the treatment that should be adopted to expel 
the lead from the system. 
As a rule, wherever there is partial paralysis, ex- 
ercise is the thing to do good. But how, it will be 
said, is it possible to exercise a paralysed muscle, one 
over which you have no control, no power to make 
it do as you like ? So it may be; still exercise is 
what is wanted, and it is obtained by means of elec- 
tricity or galvanism. A galvanic battery, or a mag- 
neto-electric machine which you turn with your hand, 
is employed. The patient's affected hand grasps one 
of the holders, or, as they are technically called, poles 
of the battery. The physician applies the other to 
the affected muscles. If these be very bad, there TRAINING AND GYMNASTICS. 
491 
may be no response to the applied agency, but gener- 
ally contraction is prompt, and not pain- 
ful. The process is repeated again and again. In 
other words, the muscle is exercised. Its contraction 
implies waste, change in its textures, renewal, and 
growth. The only difference has been that, whereas 
in ordinary muscular action the nerve stimulus is 
enough, we have here to apply a galvanic battery to 
insure the contraction of the muscle; but the result 
is the same, and in both instances it is beneficial. 
We might give other illustrations of the same rule, 
that growth and health are everywhere dependent on 
exercise, natural or artificial; but we have said enough 
to establish our thesis, and, we trust, to attract more 
general attention to an all-important matter. We are 
no advocates of violent exertion of any kind, for this, 
as we have shown, is only too fatal to heart and lungs; 
but we would strongly urge on parents, especially on 
those whose children are somewhat weakly, the necessity 
of physical education. Children who have no desire for 
the sports of their time of life ought not to be en- 
couraged in their sedentary habits without some counter- 
balancing means of exercise. It is not good to heavily 
task either mind or body before they be properly 
developed. Children should not be tired out either with 
lessons or with gymnastics, but they should have 492 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Some tiling of both,. Finally, we have shown how 
exercise, natural or artificial, may be employed in the 
art of healing for the relief of weakness or even of 
actual suffering. 
The whole subject is so extensive that we have only 
been able to give a brief outline of it; but we repeat 
that systematic exercise is an all-important and too 
much neglected means of maintaining health and of 
remedying disease. APPENDIX. 
The following is an abstract of Professor Perrier’s recent 
experiments upon tlie functions of tbe brain, by means 
of electricity, abbreviated from a report published by 
him in the “ Journal for Anatomy and Physiology.” 
The first experiments recorded have special reference to 
the production of epileptic convulsions j and the mode in 
which the attacks begin and the march of the convulsive 
spasms are accurately recorded. All the animals were 
under the influence of chloroform. 
It is found that in rabbits, cats, and dogs, the applica- 
tion of the electrodes for a few seconds induced almost 
immediately, or, on some occasions, after the lapse of a 
distinct interval, violent epileptic convulsions of one side. 
When the electrodes were applied, one at the anterior and 
the other at the posterior part of the hemisphere, the con- 
vulsions were complete and violent in the whole of the 
opposite side of the body. As a rule, they commenced 
in the face, spread to the neck and upper extremity, and 
then invaded the hind-leg and tail. Dilation of the pupil, 
spasms of the jaws, foaming at the mouth, and loss of 
consciousness, were induced when the fits were at their 
greatest intensity. 494 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
Occasionally the spasmodic convulsions remained local- 
ised in one or other limb, or in some one muscle or group 
of muscles, and frequently, instead of an epileptic attack, 
a series of twitches alone were manifested. 
The paper contains the chief results of a research 
commenced with a view to test the accuracy of the views 
entertained by Dr. Hughlings Jackson on epilepsy and 
St. Titus’ dance. Dr. Jackson regards convulsions affect- 
ing one side only as dependent on lesions of the convo- 
lutions of a certain part of the brain. In order to put 
this theory to the proof, the author determined to expose 
the brain in various animals, and apply irritation to the 
surface. 
The method of irritation was suggested by the experi- 
ments of Tritsch and Hitzig, who had shown that con- 
tractions of definite groups of muscles could be caused 
in dogs by passing galvanic currents through certain 
portions of the anterior regions of the brain. 
The progress of the research ultimately led to the en- 
deavour to establish the localisation of cerebral function, 
not merely as regards motion, but also as regards sensation 
and the other faculties of the mind. 
The method of experimentation which the author has 
adopted is to place the animal under chloroform, and 
gradually expose the surface of the brain, by removal of 
the skull. In this way he has been able to expose the APPENDIX. 
495 
whole hemisphere. After removal of the membranous 
coat, the points of blunted electrodes in connection with 
a Du Bois Raymond's coil are applied to the surface of 
the brain, without injury to the outer grey substance. 
The march of the spasms is shown to be quite in accord- 
ance with the - bedside observations of Dr. Hughlings 
Jackson in cases of epilepsy of one side in man. 
Peculiar variations in the mode in which the attacks 
commenced, depending apparently on the position of the 
electrodes on the surface of the brain, led the author to 
approximate the electrodes, and to apply very limited irri- 
tation, in order to discover whether the convulsive spasms 
were not due to over-violent irritation of localized centres 
in the brain, whose special function is to govern and 
direct the action of these muscles for definite purposes, 
possibly such as might indicate volition and intelligence. 
The results were such as to indicate, with a beautiful 
degree of exactness, the localization in certain definite 
and easily-defined regions, the cerebral centres for various 
apparently purposive combined movements of the muscles 
of the limbs, as well as of the tail, the facial muscles, 
and the muscles of the jaws and tongue. These are all 
situated in the anterior parts of the brain, and the indi- 
vidual centres are marked off in the various external 
convolutions. 
The general plan is, that in the superior external con- 496 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
volutions, the various movements of the paws, legs, and 
tail, are centralized; and it is shown that the distinctness 
of these centres is, to a great extent, characteristic of the 
animal’s habits; the centre for the fore-paw in cats being 
much more highly differentiated than in dogs and rabbits. 
The middle external convolutions direct movements 
of the eye-lids, face, and eyes; while the inferior govern 
various movements of the whiskers, angles of the mouth, 
depressors of the lower jaw, and tongue. 
From other convolutions, when irritated, certain move- 
ments are described as resulting, viz., of the ears, eyes, 
etc. In the paper as yet published, no attempt is made 
to explain the signification of these; but the author 
stated at the meeting of the British Association, that, 
from his later experiments, he had been able to obtain 
indications of the situation in these regions of the 
centres of special sense, sight, hearing, and smell. 
These results and conclusions are, however, not as yet 
detailed fully. The author indicates, in a note in the 
paper published in the West Riding Reports, that he had 
at that time explored the brain of the monkey, and satis- 
factorily localized the regions and centres corresponding 
to those already discovered in the brain of the cat, rabbit, 
and dog. 
One of the more important conclusions drawn from the 
experiments is, that the region which governs the move- APPENDIX, 
497 
ments of the mouth and tongue in cats and dogs corre- 
sponds to that which is known as Broca’s convolution in 
man, and which governs the power of speech: viz., the 
posterior part of the inferior frontal. This, it may be 
stated, is further borne out by experiments on monkeys. 
The pathology of aphasia, or speechlessness, is thus 
rendered comparatively simple. The memory of words 
is situated in that part of the brain which governs the 
movements of articulation. It is shown, however, by the 
experiments, that the brain is symmetrical, and that the 
corresponding part of each hemisphere produces exactly 
the same effects on opposite sides of the body. Generally 
the action is on one side only, and that the opposite one; 
but as regards the mouth, the action is almost bilateral, 
and hence disease of one or other side alone does not 
cause paralysis of the articulating muscles, because the 
other side is able to govern as before. The occurrence of 
loss of speech with lesion of the left side, is attributed to 
the fact that most people are left brained; and that, there- 
fore, a lesion of the left side causes such an interference 
with the voluntary recalling of words, that the person is 
speechless, not because memory of words is utterly lost, 
as this exists in the undamaged side, but because he is 
unable to lay hold of the word he wishes to express. 
With the education of the other side, however, the indi- 
vidual recovers the power of speech. During the interval 498 
PHYSIOLOGY FOR PRACTICAL USE. 
of recovery of speech, only automatic expressions, or 
interjections, are uttered, which are evoked by a sort of 
reflex action, and unconnected with volition. 
The cerebellum is shown to have a function which has 
never been allotted to it, viz., to be the co-ordinated 
centre for the muscles of the eyeballs. The author has 
only given the results of his experiments on the cerebellum 
of rabbits; but he has since extended and confirmed them 
in cats, dogs, and monkeys. 
The various lobules of the rabbit’s cerebellum are 
shown to have the power of directing the eyes in certain 
definite directions—an action which is intimately con- 
nected with the maintenance of the general balance of 
the body. INDEX. 
A. 
Aphasia, 497. 
Apoplexy, 328. 
Apparatus for analysing Breath, 
258. 
Arrowroot, 159. 
Arteries, 285. 
Assimilation, 461. 
Atmosphere, 293. 
Attention, 17. 
Absinthe, 425. 
Absorption, 203. 
Abstinence, Total, 396. 
Accidents, 238. 
Acne, 206. 
Addison’s Disease, 190. 
Adjustment of Eye, 80. 
Affinities, 188. 
Aids to Digestion, 176. 
Air, 245, 257, 266, 370. 
Cells, 252. 
Impure, 263. 
Albino, 189. 
Alcoholism, 395-425. 
Cause of Dropsy, 168. 
Amaurosis, 98. 
Amoeba, 432. 
Animal Heat, 285, 287. 
Animals, Lower, 431. 
Ant-eater, 129. 
Anxiety, Effect on Digestion, 174. 
Belief from, 28. 
B. 
Backbone, 440. 
Bacon, 119. 
Baldness, 200. 
Banks, Mr., 347. 
Barracks, 267. 
Bath, 207, 224. 
Bathing injurious to the Ear, 55. 
Bed Sores, 229. 
Beer, 438. 
Belladonna, 70. 
Beneficence of Pain, 228. 
Biceps, 441. 500 
INDEX. 
Bile, 113. 
Biliousness, 122. 
Black Draught, 123. 
Blindness, 62, 216. 
Blisters, 184, 236. 
Blood Poisoning, 423. 
In the Lungs, 255. 
Vessels, 401. 
Blood-shot Eye, 75, 
Blue Pill, 123. 
Blushing, 9, 232. 
Body, Whole, 47, 53. 
Boxing Ears, 49. 
Brain, 1, 405, 496. 
Cells, 19. 
Convolutions of, 14. 
Breathing, 249, 256. 
Brown, Robert, 431. 
Chimneys, 266. 
Chloroform, 236. 
Choke Damp, 249. 
Cholera, 280, 299. 
Churning in the Stomach, 163. 
Cilia, 107, 112, 432. 
Circulation, 199. 
Climate, 423. 
Cleanliness, 209, 453, 462. 
Of the Ears, 56. 
Cochlea, 36, 47. 
Coincidences, 332. 
Cold, Effect of, on Taste, 138. 
Bath, 210, 214. 
In Intoxication, 437. 
Feet, 321, 
Colds, 107. 
Deafness after, 43, 52. 
Coma, 435. 
Combustion, 263. 
Concealment prejudicial, 31. 
Conjunctiva, 74. 
Connective Tissue, 178. 
Consciousness, 329. 
Consumption in Army, 268. 
Convolutions, 21, 495. 
Cookery, 139. 
Corium, 182. 
Cornea, 318. 
Corpulence, a Disease, 180. 
Cure for, 182. 
Corpuscles of Blood, 432. 
Coughing, 283. 
Creator, 49, 238, 242. 
Cricket, Note of, 48.' 
Cuticle, 178. 
Canal, Alimentary, 152. 
Canals, Semicircular, 85. 
Capillaries, 255. 
Carbonic Acid, 261, 249, 365-374, 
397-408, 448. 
Cartilage, 435, 
Cataract, 96. 
Cast of the Eye, 76, 
Centre of Gravity, 436. 
Cerebellum, 498. 
Cerebrum, 17. 
Chameleon, 128. 
Cheese, 140. 
Chemical Change, 432. 
Chest, 225. 
0. INDEX. 
501 
D. 
Electricity, 427. 
Electrodes, 625, 
Emigration, 444. 
Emotion, Influence on the Body, 
30, 227. 
Ennui, 420. 
Epidemics, 300-303. 
Epidermis, 178. 
Eruptions, 278. 
Eustachian Tube, 40, 41. 
Evaporation, 288. 
Excess of Food, 422. 
Exercise, 187, 211, 475. 
Beneficial to Nerve-distress, 81. 
Exertion, 424. 
Mental and Physical opposed, 27. 
Exhilaration, 405. 
Eye and Sight, 59-101. 
Jaundiced, 120. 
Eyeball, 89, 405, 434. 
Eyelids, 63. 
Damp Beds, 5, 23, 285, 293. 
Deafness from Colds, 43, 47, 51,282. 
Death in Coma, 417. 
Deceptions in Disease, 220. 
Desquamation, 186. 
Determination of Blood, 339. 
Development, mental and physical, 
23, 476. 
Dialysis, 138. 
Diaphragm, 255. 
Diet, 474. 
Dietetics, 142. 
Digestion, 122. 
Dirt in the Eye, 64. 
Distant Objects, 85. 
Diving Bells, 41. 
Dram Drinking, 440. 
Draughts, 292. 
Dreaming, 333. 
Dreams of the Whale, 329. 
Drinking, 422. 
On empty Stomach, 117. 
Dropsy, 118. 
Drum of the Ear, 41. 
Dyspepsia, 240. 
F. 
Factory Acts, 465. 
Fat, 181, 404. 
Fatigue, 26, 405, 418. 
In looking at small Objects, 86. 
Fatty Heart, 470. 
Fear, Effects of, 208. 
Feats of Strength, 468. 
Fermentation, 397. 
Ferrier, Prof., Experiments of, 493, 
Fever, 896. 
Fishes breathe Air, 250. 
Flame, 224. 
Flour, 457. 
Ear, 83. 
Nerve of, 46. 
Stones, 34. 
Wax, 38. 
Early Rising, 345. 
Eau de Cologne, 420. 
Echo, 59. 
E. 502 
INDEX. 
Focus of the Eye, 'ZO. 
Food, 156, 355, 413. 
a Fuel, 429. 
a Stimulant, 422. 
Force, 426. 
Freckles, 191. 
Fresh Air, Effect on Brain, 28. 
Frog, 128. 
Fulcrum, 128. 
Fur on the Tongue, 144. 
Fusel Oil, 398, 424. 
Hairs, white in Old Age, and from 
Shock, It)?. 
Hay Fever, 381. 
Head Dress, 53. 
Headache, 308, 322. 
Health, 446-466. 
And Happiness, 446. 
Heart, 255, 4VI. 
Affected by Pain, 235. 
By Alcohol, 405. 
Heat and Cold, 219, 428. 
Effect of, on Liver, 115. 
Hicks, Dr., 113. 
High Notes inaudible, 48. 
Hippocrates, 29, 50, 2*79, 308, 320. 
Huss, Magnus, 423. 
Huxley, 103. 
Hydatid Tumor, 120. 
G. 
Gall Bladder, 113, 383, 384, 388. 
Stones, 118. 
Galvanism, Origin of, 13V. 
Ganglia of Brain, 16. 
Gas vitiates Air, 266. 
Gastric Juice, 154. 
Germany, Short Sight in, 94. 
Giddiness, 415. 
Gin-drinker’s Liver, 14V. 
Glands, 65. 
Gluten, 169. 
Goose Skin, 184, 2V2. 
Gout, 231. 
Grits in the Eye, 334. 
Gymnastics, 4V5. 
I. 
Iceland, 121. 
Idleness deleterious, 25, 465. 
Imaginary Pain, 22 V. 
Imponderable Bodies, 42V. 
Impurity in Spirits, 424. 
Inattention, Deafness a Cause of, 51. 
Incus, 44. 
India, Effect of, on Liver, 115. 
Indigestion, 805, 312, 341. 
Cause of Headache, 214. 
Infant Bathing, 214. 
Inflammation, 232. 
Influence of Occupation on Health, 
448. 
Influenza, 269, 2VO, 296-309. 
Habit, 21, 342, 351. 
Hairs, 182. 
Sacs, 194. 
Destruction of, 196. 
H. INDEX. 
503 
Insects, Smell in, 383. 
In the Ear, 54. 
Insertion of Muscles, 434. 
Inspiration, 256. 
Intemperance, Effect on Liver, etc., 
386. 
Interaction of Body and Mind, 24. 
Intoxication, 408, 416. 
Involuntary Actions, 11. 
Iris, 69. 
Living Tissues under Alcohol, 410. 
Livingstone, 237. 
Locality of Sense of Taste, 137. 
Of Pain, 233. 
Long Hours, 450. 
Longevity, 187. 
Loose Clothing, 289. 
Lungs, 253, 282, 443. 
M. 
J. 
Machinery of the Body, 406, 428, 
436. 
Maclaren, Trainer, 474. 
Magnet, 377. 
Mastication, 154, 170. 
Meals replaced by Drinking, 421. 
Meatus of Ear, 44. 
Medicine, 422. 
Medulla Oblongata, 196. 
Membrane, Breathing, 249, 254. 
Of the Nose, 106. 
Membranes, Effect of Alcohol on, 
129. 
Of the Ear, 73. 
Memory, Connection of Smell with, 
115. 
Mental Life, Relation to Animal, 13. 
Dependent on Convolutions, 15. 
Midriff, 255. » 
Milliners, Occupation of, 460. 
Motion, 427, 433, 467. 
Modes of, 377. 
Nerves of, 9, 16. 
Mouth, Food in the, 160. 
Mucous Membrane, 177, 272, 581. 
Jackson, Dr. Hughlings, 494. 
Jaundice, 119. 
Jelly-like Animals, 431. 
Joints, 436. 
L. 
Labourers, 321. 
Labyrinth, 36. 
Lacteals, 441. 
Lassitude, 277. 
Late Dinner, 421, 
Legislation, Sanitary, 421. 
Length of Tubes in the Skin, 202. 
Lens of the Eye, 81. 
Levers, 436, 440. 
Liebig, 404. 
Life of the Brain, 28. 
Four Kinds of, 20. 
Ligaments, 435. 
Light, 223. 
Rays of, 84. 
Liver and its Diseases, 383-404. 
Gin-drinker’s, 412. 504 
INDEX, 
Muscles, 433, 445, 446, 472. 
Of the Ear, 44. 
Of the Eyeball, 77. 
Of the Foot and Leg, 446. 
Of Voluntary Motion, 426, 445. 
Music, Appreciation of, 47. 
Myopia, 91. 
Opiates, 236. 
Origin of Muscles, 434. 
Ossicles of Ear, 40. 
Oxygen, 364, 368. 
P. 
Pain, Function of, 262. 
Palsy, 435. 
Papillae, 181, 218. 
Paralysis, 239. 
Parasites, 390. 
In Oil Glands, 205. 
Pate de Foie gras, 116. 
Perfumes, 117. 
Perspiration, 272, 279, 289, 345, 
403. 
Petit’s Canal, 81. 
Physiological Action of Alcohol, 
893-425. 
Physicians, 896. 
Pigment in the Skin, 190. 
Pleasure, 140, 243. 
Pliny on Jaundice, 120. 
Poison, 396. 
Pores of Skin, 189. 
Portal Vessel, 117. 
Potato, 157. 
Nails, 191. 
Narcotics, 236. 
Navvies, 474. 
Negro, Skin of, 189. • 
Pied, 190. 
Nerves, 313, 339, 354, 410, 414. 
Anatomy of, 6. 
Influence of, on Muscles, 10. 
Influence of, on Vessels, 5, 
Of the Ear, 44, 59. 
Of the Eye, 72. 
Of Smell, 4, 107, 112. 
Of Taste, 127. 
Nervous Force, Origin of, 3. 
Headache, 321. 
Neuralgia, 231. 
Night Air, 291, 292. 
Nightmare, 339. 
Nitrogen, 247. 
Nose Bleeding, 126. 
N. 
Q. 
0. 
Quack, 74. 
Odorous Bodies, 123. 
Oil of Wine, 397. 
Olfactory Nerve, 106. 
Ophthalmoscope, 99. 
R. 
Rain, 52. 
Rash on the Skin, 184. 
Kays of Light, 84. INDEX. 
505 
Reflex Action, 21. 
Remedies for Headache, 321. 
For Pain, 235. 
Repairing Powers of the Body, 32V, 
429. 
Respiration, 246, 269. 
Respirator, 41V, 469. 
Rest of the Organs, 26, 323. 
Restlessness, 26, 
Retina, 100. 
Ringworm, 200. 
Rooms, Ventilation of, 69, 266. 
Sick, Food for, 142. 
Headache, 234. 
Sight supplies Place of Touch, 222. 
Sinews, 183. 
Skin, Functions of, 9, 2V2. 
Organ of Sensation, 215. 
Slate Pencil, Desire for, 142. 
Sleep, 323, 349. 
Sleepiness from Drink, 416, 
Sleeping Rooms, 26V. 
Sleeplessness, 350, 362. 
Smell recalls Memory, 115. 
Snowballs, Danger of, 50. 
Soap, 186. 
Somnambulism, 335-339. 
Sounds, Loud, produce Defnaess, 
58. 
Specks before Eyes, 206. 
Spectacles, 89, 95. 
Speech, Power of, 16, 19. 
Speechlessness, 49V. 
Spinal Cord, 6, 11. 
Sph’ituous Liquors, 396, 425. 
Spongy Bone, The, 106. 
Squinting, V 6. 
Starch, 158, 430. 
State and Individuals, 396. 
Steam-Engine, 428. 
Steel-Grinders, 45V. 
Stiffness, 123. 
Stimulants, 236, 356, 415, 422. 
Use of, 418. 
Stoicism, 229. 
Stomach, 161, 402. 
Strength, Adaptation of, 221. 
s. 
Saliva, 154. 
Sanguine Temperament, 424. 
Savages, how kindle Fires, 42V. 
Scarf Skin, 219. 
Science, 42 V. 
Sclerotic, The, 68. 
Screw of Steamer, 433. 
Scurvy, 4V4, 
Sedentary Lives, 209. 
Sensation, 9, 16, 215. 
Transmission of, 2. 
Senses, where placed, 103. 
Sensibility to Pain, 229, 
Sewing-Machines, 460. 
Shakespeare, 228. 
On Smell and Music, 119. 
Shock, Death from, 235. 
Shoddy Grinders, 456. 
Short Sight, 89. 
Shower Bath, 213. 506 
INDEX. 
Sugar, 397. 
Suicide, Craving for, 26. 
Suppers, 333. 
Susceptibility to Pain, Different, 331. 
Swallowing, 41. 
Sweat Glands, 200. 
Sympathetic Ganglion, 20. 
Sympathy, 273. 
Syncope, 417. 
Syringing the Ear, 64. 
Training and Gymnastics, 229,467- 
499. 
Tumours, 121. 
Turkish Bath, 208, 294. 
Tyndall, Prof., 43, 123. 
U. 
Unconscious Actions, 22, 29. 
T. 
V. 
Tailors and Shoemakers, 460. 
Taking Cold, 298-323. 
Tape-Worm, 121. 
Taraxacum, 394. 
Taste, 127, 150. 
Tears, 65. 
Teething, 60. 
Temperaments, Influence of Alcohol 
on Different, 453. 
Temperature, 402, 417. 
Tendons, 434. 
Test of Alcohol in the Breath, 403. 
Throat, 130. 
Tickling, 215. 
Tissues under Alcohol, 423. 
Tongue, 149, 228. 
Tonics, 210. 
Toothache, 59. 
Touch, Fundamental Sense, 217. 
And Taste, 127, 224. 
And Sight, 216. 
Trainers, 470, 474. 
Yalve, Safety, 41. 
Yapor Bath, 216. 
Yeins under Alcohol, 402. 
Yentilation, 291, 363, 442. 
Necessary Amount, 264. 
Yentricles (of the Brain), 20, 
Yermuth, 425. 
Vestibule of Ear, 45. 
Yilli of Intestine, 401. 
Yitus’, St., Dance, 493. 
w. 
Waking, 342, 351. 
Walking, 443. 
Warm Baths, 205. 
Warmth, 402. 
Water not to enter the Ear, 55. 
Pure, 298. 
Watery Eye, 74, 76. 
Weight, Sensation of, 219. 
Wet Feet, 289. INDEX. 
White Lead, 462. 
Wholesomeness of Food, 141. 
Will, 16, 21. 
Wilson, Geo., 120. 
Windpipe, 253. 
Winking, 100. 
Work, Intellectual, 226. 
Work-rooms, Unhealthy, 266. 
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lucidity of statement, of Professor Tyndall, than which there can be no higher praise.” 
—New York Journal of Co7nmerce. 
“The aim of the work is to furnish a hand-book of a symmetrical science, resting 
fundamentally upon the law of Avogadro that ‘equal volumes of all substances, when 
in the state of gas and under like conditions, contain the same number of molecules.’ 
It is to a rigid adherence to this law and the deductions which flow from it that chem- 
istry, as now taught, owes the marked difference which separates It from the chemistry 
taught a few years ago. The original lectures of Professor Cooke, enlarged and 
somewhat modified, present in their present form a clear and full exposition of the sci- 
ence, and will form a useful text-book as well as a volume of unusual interest to the 
lovers of physical science.”—New York World. 
D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 549 & 551 Broadway, N. Y. Opinions of the Press on the “ International Scientific Series.” 
The Conservation of Energy 
VII. 
BALFOUR STEWART, LL. D. 
With an Appendix, treating of the Vital and Mental Applications of 
the Doctrine. 
i vol., i2mo. Cloth . . . Price, $1.50. 
Note to the A merican Edition. 
“ The great prominence which the modern doctrine of the Conservation of Energy 
or Correlation of Forces has lately assumed in the world of thought, has made a simple 
and popular explanation of the subject very desirable. The present work of Dr. Bal- 
four Stewart, contributed to the ‘lnternational Scientific Series,’fully meets this re- 
quirement, as it is probably the clearest and most elementary statement of the question 
that has yet been attempted. Simple in language, copious and familiar in illustration, 
and remarkably lucid in the presentation of facts and principles, his little treatise forms 
just the introduction to the great problem of the interaction of natural forces that is re- 
quired by general readers. But Prof. Stewart having confined himself mainly to the 
physical aspects of the subject, it was desirable that his views should be supplemented 
by a statement of the operation of the principle in the spheres of life and mind. An 
Appendix has, accordingly, been added to the American edition of Dr. Stewart’s 
work, in which these applications of the law are considered. 
“Prof. Joseph Le Conte published a very able essay fourteen years ago on the 
‘Correlation of the Physical and Vital Forces,’ which was extensively reprinted abroad, 
and placed the name of the author among the leading interpreters of the subject. His 
mode of presenting It was regarded as peculiarly happy, and was widely adopted by other 
writers. After further investigations and more mature reflection, he has recently re- 
stated his views, and has kindly furnished the revised essay for insertion in this volume. 
“Prof. A. Bain, the celebrated Psychologist of Aberdeen, who has done so much 
to advance the study ofmind in its physiological relations, prepared an interesting lec- 
ture not long ago on the ‘Correlation of the Nervous and Mental Forces,’ which was 
read with much Interest at the time of its publication, and is now reprinted as a suitable 
exposition of that branch of the subject. These two essays, by carrying out the prin- 
ciple in the field of vital and mental phenomena, will serve to give completeness and 
much greater value to the present volume.” 
“The great physical generalization called ‘ The Conservation of Energy’ is in an 
intermediate state. It is so new that all kinds of false ideas are prevalent about it; it 
is so exact that these cannot be tolerated ; and thus its circumstances are such as to 
make so thorough and simple a treatise as this, by Prof. Balfour Stewart, a boon to 
science and the world at large. 
“ The scheme of the book is simple, as is naturally the case when the subject-mat- 
ter comprehends but one single law of Nature and its manifestations. The first two 
chapters are devoted to the consideration of mechanical energy and its change into 
heat, Prof. Stewart rightly devoting special attention to these two forms of energy, 
compared with which all others are insignificant in practical, if not in theoretical, im- 
portance. The remaining forms of energy are then explained, and the law of its con- 
servation is stated, and its operation traced through all varieties of transmutations. An 
historical sketch of the progress of the science and an examination of Prof. Thomson’s 
correlative theory of the ‘Dissipation of Energy ’ follow : and the work concludes with 
a chapter on the ‘Position of Life,’ which is closely connected with a well-known essay 
written some years ago by Prof. Stewart and Mr. Lockyer. The style is all that it 
should be; it is difficult to understand how so much information can be contained in so 
few words. Prof. Stewart could not have been nearly so successful in this respect had 
he been in any degree a pedant. No such writer would permit himself to use the 
quaint language and still quainter similes and and illustrations that make the book so 
readable, and yet there is scarcely one that is out of place, or illegitimately used, or 
likely to mislead.”—Saturday Review. 
D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 549 & 551 Broadway, N. Y. A thoughtful and valuable contribution to the best religious literature 
of the day. 
RELIGION AND SCIENCE. 
A Series of Sunday Lectures on the Relation of Natural and Revealed 
Religion, or the Truths revealed in Nature and Scripture. 
JOSEPH LE CONTE, 
PROFESSOR OP GEOLOGY AND NATURAL HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, 
12mo, cloth. Price, $1.50. 
OPINIONS OF Tin: PMFSS. 
“ This work is chiefly remarkable as a conscientious effort to reconcile 
the revelations of Science with those of Scripture, and will he very use- 
ful to teachers of the different Sunday-schools.”—Detroit Union. 
“It will be seen, by this resume of the topics, that Prof. Le Conte 
grapples with some of the gravest questions which agitate the thinking 
world. He treats of them all with dignity and fairness, and in a man- 
ner so clear, persuasive, and eloquent, as to engage the undivided at- 
tention of the reader. We commend the book cordially to the regard 
of all who are interested in whatever pertains to the discussion of these 
grave questions, and especially to those who desire to examine closely 
the strong foundations on which the Christian faith is reared.”—Boston 
Journal. 
“A reverent student of Nature and religion is the best-qualified man 
to instruct others in their harmony. The author at first intended his 
work for a Bible-class, but, as it grew under his hands, it seemed well to 
give it form in a neat volume. The lectures are from a decidedly re- 
ligious stand-point, and as such present a new method of treatment.” 
—Philadelphia Age, 
“This volume is made up of lectures delivered to his pupils, and is 
written with much clearness of thought and unusual clearness of ex- 
pression, although the author’s English is not always above reproach. 
It is partly a treatise on natural theology and partly a defense of the 
Bible against the assaults of modern science. In the latter aspect the 
author’s method is an eminently wise one. He accepts whatever sci- 
ence has proved, and he also accepts the divine origin of the Bible. 
Where the two seem to conflict he prefers to await the reconciliation, 
which is inevitable if both are true, rather than to waste time and words 
in inventing ingenious and doubtful theories to force thein into seeming 
accord. Both as a theologian and a man of science, Prof. Le Conte s 
opinions are entitled to respectful attention, and there are who will 
not recognize his book as a thoughtful and valuable contribution to the 
best religious literature of the day.”—New York World. 
D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 549 & 551 Broadway, N. Y. A New Magazine for Students and Cultivated Readers. 
THE 
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CONDUCTED BY 
Professor E. L. YOUMANS. 
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