Chapter I: AM well aware of the difficulties attending the proper (1)

composition of a popular course of lectures on the animal economy, which must be essentially different from those generally delivered in the schools of medicine; because it professes to explain the structure and functions of the living body, to those who are supposed to be unacquainted with the usual preliminary and collateral branches of knowledge. It must be obvious to every one, that it can be by no means an easy task to give in a few lectures, a perspicuous view of so extensive a subject; but I trust that the consideration of this difficulty will readily extend to me your indulgence.

That such a course, if properly conducted, must be interesting, needs scarcely to be observed; for the more we examine the structure and functions of the human body, the more we admire the excellence of the workmanship, and beauty of contrivance, which presents itself in every part, and which continually shows the hand of omniscience. The most ingenious of human inventions, when compared with the animal frame, indicate a poverty of contrivance which cannot fail to humble the pretensions of the sons of men. Surely then there are few who will not feel a desire to become acquainted with subjects so interesting.

But there is another point of view which will place the utility of such inquiries in a still stronger light. We shall afterwards see, that our life is continually supported by the action of a number of substances, by which the body is surrounded, and which are taken into the stomach for its nourishment. On the due action of these depends the pleasant performance of the different functions, or the state of health; without which, riches, honours, and every other gratification, become joyless and insipid.

By understanding the manner in which these powers act, or, in other words, by becoming acquainted with the principles of physiology, we shall be enabled to regulate them, so as, in a great measure, to guard against the numerous ills that flesh is heir to: for it is universally agreed, that by far the greatest part of the diseases to which mankind are subject, have been brought on by intemperance, imprudence, and the neglect of precautions, which often arises from carelessness, but much oftener from ignorance of those precautions.

Physiological ignorance is, undoubtedly, the most abundant source of our sufferings; every person accustomed to the sick must have heard them deplore their ignorance of the necessary consequences of those practises, by which their health has been destroyed: and when men shall be deeply convinced, that the eternal laws of nature have connected pain and decrepitude with one mode of life, and health and vigour with another, they will avoid the former and adhere to the latter.

It is strange, however, to observe that the generality of mankind do not seem to bestow a single thought on the preservation of their health, till it is too late to reap any benefit from their conviction: so that we may say of health, as we do of time, we take no notice of it but by its loss; and feel the value of it when we can no longer think of it but with retrospect and regret.

When we take a view of the human frame, and see how admirably each part is contrived for the performance of its different functions, and even for repairing its own injuries, we might at first sight imagine, that such a structure, unless destroyed by external force, should continue for ever in vigour, and in health: and it is by mournful experience alone that we are convinced of the contrary. The strongest constitution, which never experienced the qualms of sickness, or the torture of disease, and which seems to bid defiance to the enemies of health that surround it, is not proof against the attacks of age. Even in the midst of life we are in death; how many of us have contemplated with admiration the graceful motion of the female form; the eye sparkling with intelligence; the countenance enlivened by wit, or animated by feeling: a single instant is sufficient to dispel the charm: often without apparent cause, sensation and motion cease at once; the body loses its warmth, the eyes their lustre, and the lips and cheeks become livid. These, as Cuvier observes, are but preludes to changes still more hideous. The colour passes successively to a blue, a green, and a black; the flesh absorbs moisture, and while one part of it escapes in pestilential exhalations, the remaining part falls down into a putrid liquid mass. In a short time no part of the body remains, but a few earthy and saline principles; its other elements being dispersed through air, or carried off by water, to form new combinations, and afford food for other animals.

The human body has been defined to be a machine composed of bones and muscles, with their proper appendages, for the purpose of motion, at the instance of its intelligent principle. From this principle, nerves, or instruments of sensation, are likewise detached to the various parts of the body, for such information as may be necessary to determine it to those motions of the body, which may conduce to the happiness of the former, and the preservation of both.

It may perhaps be objected to this definition, that the body consists of other parts besides bones, muscles, and nerves; this is undoubtedly true; but, if we examine more minutely, we shall find that all the other parts, as well as functions of the body, seem only to be subservient to the purposes I have mentioned. For, in the first place, the muscles which are necessary to the motions of the body, are, from the nature of their constitution, subject to continual waste; to repair which waste, some of the other functions have been contrived.

Secondly, most of the other parts and functions of the body, are either necessary to the action of the muscles, or to the operation of the intelligent principle, or both.

Lastly, from the sensibility, and delicate structure, of the muscles and nerves, they require to be defended from external injuries: this is done by membranes, and other contrivances, fitted for the purpose.

To see this more clearly, we shall examine a little more particularly how each of the functions is subservient to the muscular and nervous systems. For this purpose it may be observed, 1st. that the stomach and digestive faculties serve to assimilate the food, or convert it into matter proper to repair the continual waste of solids and fluids. The circulation of the blood besides being absolutely necessary, as we shall afterwards see, to the action of the muscles, distributes the nourishment, thus assimilated and prepared by the stomach, to all parts of the body. The different glands separate liquors from the blood, for useful, but still for subservient purposes. Thus the salivary glands, stomach, pancreas, and liver, separate juices necessary to the proper digestion and assimilation of the food. The kidneys serve to strain off from the blood the useless and superfluous water, salts, &c. which if allowed to remain in the body would be very injurious to it.

We shall afterwards see, that the nerves are not only instruments of sensation, but the origin of motion; it being immediately by their means that the muscles are moved. A certain degree of heat is necessary to keep the blood fluid, and also to the action of the nerves; without either of which, no motion could be performed. Respiration or breathing is so necessary to life, that it cannot exist, even a few minutes, without the exercise of that function; and yet we shall afterwards see, that the ultimate end of respiration is to keep the body in a proper state, for the purposes of muscular motion and sensation.

The skin serves like a sheath to defend the body from injuries; the skull serves the same purpose to the brain, which is the origin of the nerves. The different membranes separate the fibres, muscles, nerves, and various organs of the body, from each other. Hence we see that there is no impropriety, in calling the human body a machine composed of bones and muscles, with their proper appendages, for the purpose of motion, at the instance of its intelligent principle.

In order to show more clearly how each part is subservient to these ends, I shall give a short account of the structure of the human body, but I must premise, that the nature of this course will prevent my entering minutely into anatomical detail. All that can be done is, to give such a general outline of anatomy and physiology, as will furnish individuals with so much knowledge of themselves, as may enable them to guard against habitual sickness.

Among the solid parts of the human frame the bones stand conspicuous. Their use is, to give firmness and shape to the body. Some of them likewise serve as armour, or defense, to guard important parts; thus the skull is admirably contrived to defend the brain; and the spine or backbone is designed, not only to strengthen the body, but to shield that continuation of the brain, called the spinal marrow, from whence originate great numbers of nerves, which pass through convenient openings of this bone, and are distributed to various parts of the body. In the structure of this, as well as every other part, the wisdom of the Creator is manifest. Had it been a single bone, the loins must have been inflexible; to avoid which, it consists of a number of small bones, articulated or joined together with great exactness, which are strengthened by compact ligaments. Hence it becomes capable of various inflections, without injuring the nerves, or diminishing that strength which is so much required.

The whole system of bones, or skeleton, is constructed of several parts, of different shapes and sizes, joining with one another in various manners, and so knit together, as best to answer to the motions which the occasions of the animal may require.

These bones serve as levers for the muscles to act on; which last serve as mechanical powers, to give the machine various motions, at the command of the will.

The muscles are fleshy fibres, attached by their extremities to the bones. When the fibres shorten themselves, the two parts into which the muscle is inserted are brought nearer; and, by this simple contrivance, all the motions of animals are performed, and their bodies carried from one place to another.

Joints are provided with muscles for performing the motions for which they are adapted; every muscle pulling the bone, to which it is attached, in its own particular direction. Hence the muscles may be considered as so many moving forces, as was before hinted; and their strength, the distance of their insertion from the centre of motion, the length of the lever to which they are attached, and the weight connected with it, determine the duration and velocity of the motions which they produce. Upon these different circumstances depend the different kinds of motion performed by various animals, such as the force of their leap, the extent of their flight, the rapidity of their course, and their address in catching their prey.

Most of the muscles act upon the bones, so as to produce the effects of a lever of the third kind, as it is termed by mechanics, where the power acts between the centre of motion and the weight; hence it has a mechanical disadvantage; as an instance of this, the muscle which bends the forearm, is inserted about one eighth or one tenth of the distance from the centre of motion that the hand is, where the weight or resistance is applied; hence the muscle must exert a force eight or ten times greater than the weight to be raised. But this disadvantage is amply compensated by making the limbs move with greater velocity; besides, if room had been given for the muscles to act with greater advantage, the limbs must have been exceedingly deformed and unwieldy. [1]

The muscles, in general, at least those which serve for voluntary motion, are balanced by antagonists, by means of which they are kept beyond their natural stretch. When one of two antagonists is contracted by the will, the other relaxes in order to give it play; or at least becomes overpowered by the contraction of the first. Also when one of such muscles happens to be paralytic, the other being no longer balanced, or kept on the stretch, immediately contracts to its natural length, and remains in that situation. The part to which it is fixed will, of course, be affected accordingly. If one of the muscles which move the mouth sideways be destroyed, the other immediately contracting, draws the mouth awry; and in that situation it remains. The same may be observed of the leg, the arm, and other parts. Some muscles assist one another in their action, while others have different actions; according to their shapes, the course of their fibres, and the structure of the parts they move.

According to the shape and nature of the bones to be moved, and of the motions to be performed, the muscles are either long, or short; slender, or bulky; straight, or round. Where a great motion is required, as in the leg, or arm, the muscles are long; where a small motion is necessary, they are short; for a strong motion they are thick, and for a weak one slender.

Some of the muscles are fastened to, and move bones; others cartilages, and others again other muscles, as may best suit the intention to be answered.

With respect to the bones, some are solid and flattened; others hollow and cylindrical. Every cylindrical bone is hollow, or has a cavity containing a great number of cells, filled with an oily marrow. Each of these cells is lined with a fine membrane, which forms the marrow. On this membrane, the blood vessels are spread, which enter the bones obliquely, and generally near their middle; from some branches of these vessels the marrow is secreted; while others enter the internal substance of the bones for their nourishment; and the reason why they enter the bones obliquely is, that they may not weaken them by dividing too many fibres in the same place.

The bones being made hollow, their strength is greatly increased without any addition to their weight; for if they had been formed of the same quantity of matter without any cavities, they would have been much weaker; their strength to resist breaking transversely being proportionate to their diameters, as is evident from mechanics.

All the bones, excepting so much of the teeth as are out of the sockets, and those parts of other bones which are covered with cartilages, are surrounded by a fine membrane, which on the skull is called pericranium, but in other parts periosteum. This membrane serves for the muscles to slide easily upon, and to hinder them from being lacerated by the hardness and roughness of the bones.

But though the apparatus which I have been describing is admirably contrived for the performance of motion; it would continue for ever inactive, if not animated by the nervous system.

The brain is the seat of the intelligent principle: from this organ, white, soft, and medullary threads, called nerves, are sent off to different parts of the body: some of them proceed immediately from the brain to their destined places, while the greater number, united together, perforate the skull, and enter the cavity of the backbone, forming what we call the spinal marrow, which may be regarded as a continuation of the brain. Portions of the spinal marrow pass through different apertures to all parts of the body.

We are not conscious of the impression of external objects on our body, unless there be a free communication of nerves, between the place where the impression is made and the brain. If a nerve be divided, or have a ligature put round it, sensation is intercepted.

There is perhaps only one sense which is common to all classes of animals, and which exists over every part of the surface of the body; I mean the sense of touch. The seat of this sense is in the extremities of the nerves distributed over the skin; and by means of it we ascertain the resistance of bodies, their figure, and their temperature.

The other senses have been thought to be only more refined modifications of the sense of touch; and the organs of each are placed near the brain on the external surface of the head. The sense of sight, for instance, is seated in the eye; the hearing in the ear; the smell in the internal membrane of the nose; and the taste in the tongue.

The light; the pulses, or vibrations of the air; the effluvia floating in the atmosphere; saline particles, or particles which are soluble in water or saliva, are the substances which act upon these four senses; and the organs which transmit their action to the nerves, are admirably adapted to the respective nature of each. The eye presents to the light a succession of transparent lenses to refract its rays; the ear opposes to the air membranes, fluids, and bones, well fitted to transmit its vibrations; the nostrils, while they afford a passage to the air in its way to the lungs, intercept any odorous particles which it contains, and the tongue is provided with spongy papillae to imbibe the sapid liquors which are the objects of taste.

It is by these organs that we become acquainted with what passes around us; by these we know that a material world exists. We may however observe, that the nervous system, besides making us acquainted with external things, gives us notice of many changes that take place within our own body. Internal pain warns us of the presence of disease; and the disagreeable sensations of hunger, thirst, and fatigue, are signs of the body standing in need of refreshment or repose.

Concerning the manner in which we become acquainted with external things, by means of the senses, we know nothing. Many hypotheses have been offered to explain this: none of them however are the result of experiment and observation. Many philosophers have supposed the universe to be filled with an extremely subtile fluid, which they have termed ethereal; and this hypothesis has been sanctioned by the illustrious authority of Newton. He however merely offered it in the modest form of a query, for the attention of other philosophers; little thinking that it would be made use of to explain phenomena which they did not understand. His query about a subtile elastic fluid pervading the universe, and giving motion and activity to inert masses of matter, and thereby causing the phenomena of attraction, gravitation, and many other appearances in nature, was immediately laid hold of by his followers, as a fact sufficiently supported, because it seemed to have the sanction of so great an authority.

This hypothesis was made use of to explain a great number of phenomena, and the physiologists, whose theories were generally influenced by the prevailing philosophy, eagerly laid hold of it to explain the phenomena of sensation, and muscular motion. When an impression was made upon any part of the external surface of the body, whether it was occasioned by heat, or mechanical impulse, they supposed, that the ether in the extremities of the nerves was set in motion. This motion, from the energy of the ether, is communicated along the nerves to the brain, and there produces such a change as occasions a consciousness of the original impression, and a reference in the mind to the place where it was made. Next they supposed, that the action of the will caused a motion of the ether to be instantly propagated along the nerves that terminate in the fibres of the muscles, which stimulated them to contraction.

Other philosophers imagined, that a tremulous motion was excited in the nerves themselves, by the action of external impulses, like the motions excited in the string of a harp. These motions they supposed to be propagated along the nerves of sense, to the brain, and from thence along the motory nerves, to the muscles.

Before they attempted this explanation of the phenomena, they should have proved the existence of such a fluid, or at least brought forward such circumstances, as rendered its existence credible. But supposing we grant them the hypothesis, it will, in my opinion, not avail much; for it is not easy to conceive how the motion of a subtile fluid, or the vibration of a nerve, can cause sensation.

Nor are the internal senses, as they are generally called, namely, memory, and imagination, any better explained on this supposition; for we cannot conceive how this nervous fluid is stored up and propelled by the will.

After all, I think we must confess, that this subject is still enveloped in obscurity. One observation is worth making, namely, that our sensations have not the smallest resemblance to the substance or impression, which causes them; thus the sensation occasioned by the smell of camphor, possesses not the smallest resemblance to small particles of camphor floating in the atmosphere; a sensation of pain has no similitude whatever to the point of a sword which occasions it; nor has the sensation of sound any resemblance to waves or tremors in the air. In our present state of knowledge, therefore, all that we can say, is, that nature has so formed us, that when an impression is made on any of the organs of sense, it causes a sensation, which forces us to believe in the existence of an external object, though we cannot see any connexion between the sensation and the object which produces it.

But though philosophers were certainly blameable for assuming an unknown cause, to account for various phenomena, yet later experiments would seem to prove that even the conjectures of Newton were not founded on slight grounds. His idea that the diamond was inflammable, has been confirmed by various experiments: and that there exists in nature a subtile fluid, capable of pervading with ease the densest bodies, the phenomena of electricity would seem to show, and some late experiments render it by no means improbable, that this fluid or influence, acts a conspicuous part in the nervous system. That it exists in great quantity in animal bodies, is evident on gently rubbing the back of a cat in the dark; and it would seem that, in some instances, it may be given out or secreted by the nerves. We shall afterwards see that the seat of vision is a delicate expansion of a large nerve which comes from the brain, and is spread out on the bottom of the eye; and flashes of light, or a kind of sparkling, is often seen to dart from the eyes of persons in high health, and possessed of much nervous energy. These luminous flashes are very apparent in the dark in some animals; such as the lion, the lynx, and the cat; and it is difficult to account for this appearance unless we suppose it electrical.

The experiments of Galvani and others, have however proved beyond all doubt, that this fluid, when applied to the nerves and muscles, is capable of exciting various sensations and motions. To produce this fluid by the application of two metals, it is necessary that one of them should be in such a situation, as to be easily oxidable, while the other is prevented from oxidation. If a piece of zinc be put into water, no change will take place; but if a piece of silver be put along with it, the zinc will immediately oxidate, by decomposing the water, and a current of electricity will pass through the silver. If the upper and under surfaces of the tongue be coated with two different metals, one of which is easily oxidable, and these be brought into contact, a sensation is produced resembling taste, which takes place suddenly, like a slight electrical shock. This taste may likewise be produced by applying one part of the metals to the tongue and the other to any part of the body deprived of the cuticle, and bringing them in contact.

The sensation of light may be produced in various ways; such as by applying one metal between the gum and the upper lip, and the other under the tongue; or by putting a silver probe up one of the nostrils, and a piece of zinc upon the tongue; a sensation resembling a very strong flash of light is perceived in the corresponding eye, at the instant of contact.

But the experiments which tend most strongly to prove what I have hinted, are made in the following manner. Lay bare a portion of a great nerve leading to any muscle or limb of an animal, for instance, the leg of a frog separated from the body. Touch the bared nerve with a piece of zinc, and the muscle with a piece of silver, and strong contractions take place the instant these metals are brought into contact. The same effect may be produced by placing a piece of silver on a larger piece of zinc, and putting a worm or a leech on the silver; in moving about, the instant it touches the zinc it is thrown into strong convulsions.

These phenomena have been clearly proved to be electrical; for by a number of pieces of these metals, properly disposed, strong shocks can be given, the electrometer can be affected, a Leyden vial charged, the electric spark seen, and combustible bodies inflamed.

Some animals likewise possess the power of accumulating this influence in a great degree; for instanc the torpedo, and electrical eel, which will both give strong shocks; and if the circuit have a small interruption a spark may be seen, as was shown by Mr. Walsh. On dissecting these fish, Mr. Hunter found an organ very similar to the pile of Volta; it consists of numerous membranaceous columns, filled with plates or pellicles, in the form of thin disks, separated from each other by small intervals, which intervals contain a fluid substance; this organ, like the pile of Volta, is capable of giving repeated shocks, even when surrounded by water.

It is not absolutely necessary to use two metals to produce the galvanic phenomena; for if one side of a metal be made to oxidate, while the other is prevented from oxidation, these appearances will still be produced. It is not indeed necessary to use any metal; for a piece of charcoal, oxidated in the same way, produces galvanism; so does fresh muscular fibre, and perhaps any substance capable of oxidation. The most striking circumstance in galvanism, is, that it accompanies oxidation, and is perhaps never produced without it. But oxidation is always going on in the body by means of respiration and the circulation of the blood. We shall afterwards find reason to believe, that the oxygen, received from the atmosphere by the lungs, is the cause of animal heat, and probably of animal irritability; and it is perhaps not unreasonable to suppose, that the nervous influence or electricity may be separated by the brain, and sent along the nerves, which seem the most powerful conductors of it, to stimulate the muscles to action.

What the nature of the electric fluid is, we are ignorant; some galvanic experiments have led me to suppose that it may be hydrogen, which when combined with caloric appears in the form of gas, but when pure, or perhaps in a different state, may be capable of passing through solid bodies in the form of electricity.

Having given this short view of the human body, considered as a machine composed of bones, muscles, and nerves, I shall proceed to state the different subjects which I shall consider in this course. It is extremely difficult to begin a course like this; for we must either enter abruptly into the middle, or the outset must be in some measure tedious and dry. I have chosen however rather to hazard the latter appellation, with respect to this lecture, than to enter more abruptly into the subject, in order to make it more entertaining. As we proceed, I trust you will feel an increasing interest in the subject; and, I think I may venture to promise, that this will be found the least entertaining lecture in the course. The subjects will be illustrated by experiments, in order to render the deductions more striking.

I shall next proceed to consider the phenomena of respiration, and animal heat; after which I shall explain the circulation of the blood; and the phenomena of digestion and nutrition. I shall then examine, more minutely than has been done in this lecture, the connexion of man with the external world, which will lead to a discussion of the different senses; vision, hearing, smelling, tasting, and feeling.

When these subjects have been discussed as fully as our time will allow, I shall examine, at considerable length, the manner in which the powers that support life, which have been improperly called by physiologists, the nonnaturals, act upon the body. This will naturally lead to a fuller explanation of the system which I have attempted to defend, in my lecture on health. And, after I have fully explained the laws by which the irritable principle is regulated, I shall proceed to show, how those variations from the healthy state, called diseases, are produced; I shall point out the difference that exists between the debility which is brought on by the diminished action of the powers which support life, and that which results from their too powerful action; I shall then inquire into the nature of diseases of increased excitement; and after having shown how the undue action of the powers which support life, operates in producing disease, I shall endeavour to lay down such rules for the preservation of health, as are the result of reasoning on these subjects, and are also confirmed by experience.

[1] [FIGURE] Suppose AC to be a lever, held in equilibrio by the force B and weight W, then the whole momentum exerted at B must be equal to that at W, but the forces will be different. For B x AC = W x AB, and if AC = 10AB, then a force equal to ten times the weight to be raised must be exerted by the muscle. Hence we see, that in the actions of muscles there is a loss of power, from their insertions being nearer the fulcrum than the weight. For example, suppose the deltoid muscle to act and raise a weight of 55 lb.: the weight of the arm is 5 lb., and the distance of its insertion is only 1/3 of the arms length, hence the force exerted must be (55 + 5) x 3 = 180 lb.

[FIGURE] But by this contrivance we gain a greater extent of motion, and also a greater velocity, and both with less contraction. Let A be the centre of motion, or articulation; B the insertion of a muscle, and AC the length of the lever or bone; then, by a contraction only equal to B_b_, C is carried through C_c_, which is to B_b_ as AC to AB. It is obvious also, that the velocity is greater, since C moves to _c_ in the same time as B to _b_.

A loss of power is likewise occasioned by the obliquity of the muscular action, and the oblique direction of the fibres.

For, in this case, there is a compound of two forces, and a consequent loss of power: for the forces are proportioned to the two sides of a parallelogram, but the effects produced are proportioned only to the diagonal.

LECTURE II. RESPIRATION.

In the last lecture I took a short view of the human body, as a moving machine, regulated by the will. We shall now proceed to examine some of its functions more particularly.

I need not tell any of my audience, how necessary air is to the living body; for every person knows that we cannot live when excluded from this fluid; but, before we can understand the manner in which it acts on the body, we must become acquainted with some of its properties.

That the air is a fluid, consisting of such particles as have little or no cohesion, and which slide easily among each other, and yield to the slightest force, is evident from the ease with which animals breathe it, and move through it. Indeed from its being transparent, and therefore invisible, as well as from its extreme tenuity, and the ease with which bodies move through it, people will scarcely believe that they are living at the bottom of an aerial ocean, like fishes at the bottom of the sea. We become, however, very sensible of it, when it flows rapidly in streams or currents, so as to form what is called a wind, which will sometimes act so violently as to tear up the strongest trees by the roots, and blow down to the ground the best and firmest buildings.

Some may still be inclined to ask, what is this air in which we are said to live? We see nothing; we feel nothing; we find ourselves at liberty to move about in any direction, without any hindrance. Whence then comes the assertion, that we are surrounded by a fluid, called air? When we pour water out of a vessel, it appears to be empty; for our senses do not inform us that any thing occupies the place of the water, for instance, when we pour water out of a vial. But this operation is exactly similar to pouring out mercury from a vial in a jar of water, the water gets in and supplies the place of the mercury; so does the air which supplies the place of the water; and this air will prevent water from rising, or filling a vessel which contains it.

Hence we see that air possesses similar appearances of impenetrability with other matter: for it excludes bodies from the space which itself occupies.

Air being therefore material must have weight; and we shall accordingly find, that a quart of it weighs about fifteen grains. But a quart of water weighs about two pounds; this fluid therefore is nearly a thousand times heavier than air.

But though air is so much lighter than water, yet, because it extends to a considerable height above the surface of the earth, it is evident, that it must press strongly on the surfaces of bodies. It is thought to extend nearly fifty miles above the surface of the earth, and must therefore press heavily on this surface. This may be evinced by different experiments, performed by means of the air pump.

Another property of the air, by which it is distinguished from most other fluids, is its elasticity. It may be compressed into a less space than it naturally occupies, and when the compressing force is removed, it expands to its former bulk, by its spring or elasticity. Indeed it is always compressed into less space than it would naturally occupy, by the weight of the superincumbent air.

The trachea, or windpipe, commences at the further end of the mouth, between the root of the tongue, and the passage into the stomach: its upper part is termed the larynx; it forms the projection in the fore part of the neck, which is more prominent in the male than the female: its opening is called the glottis, and is covered with a small valve, or lid, called the epiglottis, which is open while we breathe, but shuts when we swallow any thing, to prevent its getting into the lungs: sometimes, however, particularly when we attempt to speak at the time we swallow, a small portion of our food or drink gets into the larynx, and excites violent coughing until it is thrown back again.

The windpipe is composed of cartilaginous rings, covered with membrane, which keep it open: after having run downwards for the space of a few inches, it divides into two great branches, each of which is subdivided into a vast number of ramifications, ultimately terminating in little vesicles, which, when distended with air, make up the greatest part of the bulk of the lungs.

The cavity in which the lungs are contained is called the thorax, or chest: and is bounded by the ribs, and backbone or spine, and separated from the abdomen by a muscular membrane, called the diaphragm. The thorax, by the action of the diaphragm and intercostal muscles, is alternately enlarged and diminished. Suppose then the thorax to be in its least state; if it become larger, a vacuum will be formed, into which the external air will descend by its weight, filling and distending the vesicles of the lungs.

The thorax, thus dilated, is brought back to its former magnitude, principally by the relaxation of the muscles, which distended it, and the natural elasticity of the parts, aided by the contraction of the abdominal muscles; the thorax being thus diminished, a quantity of air is expelled from the lungs. The muscles which distend the thorax beginning again to act, the air reenters; and this alternate dilatation and contraction, is called respiration. The entrance of the air into the lungs, is termed inspiration, and its expulsion, expiration.

To form a more accurate idea of the manner in which respiration is performed, let us suppose this room to be filled with water. On enlarging the thorax, in the manner before mentioned, the water by its weight would rush in, and fill the newly formed void; and, upon the diminution of the capacity of the thorax, a part of this water would be expelled. Just in the same manner the air will alternately enter and be expelled from the lungs by this alternate dilatation and contraction of the thorax.

Respiration is a function of such consequence, that death follows if it is suspended for a few minutes only. By means of this function the blood is elaborated, and rendered fit to nourish the body; by means of it the system is, most probably, supplied with irritability; by means of it the nervous energy is, most likely, conveyed into the body, to be expended in sensation, and muscular motion. It appears, likewise, that in this way, animals are supplied with that heat which preserves their temperatures nearly the same, whatever may be the temperatures of surrounding bodies.

If any number of inanimate bodies, possessed of different degrees of heat, be placed near each other, the heat will begin to pass from the hotter bodies to the colder, till there be an equilibrium of temperature. But this is by no means the case with respect to animated matter; for whatever be the degree of heat peculiar to individual animals, they preserve it, nearly unchanged, in every temperature, provided the temperature be not altogether incompatible with life or health. Thus, we find, from experiments that have been made, that the human body is not only capable of supporting, in certain circumstances, without any material change in its temperature, a degree of heat considerably above that at which water boils; but it likewise maintains its usual temperature, whilst the surrounding medium is several degrees below frost.

It is evident, therefore, that animals neither receive their heat from the bodies which surround them, nor suffer, from the influence of external circumstances, any material alterations in that heat which is peculiar to their nature. These general facts are confirmed and elucidated by many accurate and well authenticated observations, which show, that the degree of heat in the same genus and species of the more perfect animals, continues uniformly the same, whether they be surrounded by mountains of snow, in the neighbourhood of the pole, or exposed to a vertical sun, in the sultry regions of the torrid zone.

This stability and uniformity of animal heat, under such a disparity of external circumstances, and so vast a latitude in the temperature of the ambient air, prove, beyond doubt, that the living body is furnished with a peculiar mechanism, or power of generating, supporting, and regulating its own temperature; and that this is so wisely adapted to the circumstances of its economy, or so dependent upon them, that, whatever be the temperature of the atmosphere, it will have very little influence either in diminishing or increasing that of the animal.

In order that we may see how this effect is produced, we must examine the chemical properties of the air. Previously to this, however, it will be necessary to point out briefly how bodies are affected, with respect to heat, when they change their form.

When a body passes from a state of solidity to that of fluidity, it absorbs a quantity of heat, which becomes chemically combined with it, and insensible to the touch or the thermometer; in the same manner, when it passes from a fluid state to that of vapour or gas, it combines with a still larger quantity of heat, which remains latent in it, so long as it continues in the state of gas, but when it returns to the liquid or solid state, it gives out the heat which was combined with it, which, being set at liberty, flows into the surrounding bodies, and augments their temperature.

This is evinced by the conversion of ice into water, and of water into steam; and by the return of steam into water. It is evinced likewise by the evaporation of ether, and by numberless other experiments.

Modern chemistry has shown that the atmosphere is not a homogeneous fluid, but consists of two elastic fluids, endowed with opposite and different properties.

If a combustible body, for instance a candle, be confined in a given quantity of atmospheric air, it will burn only for a certain time; after it is extinguished, if another combustible body be lighted and immersed in the same air, it will not burn, but will immediately be extinguished.

It has been proved by chemical experiments, that in this instance, the combustible body absorbs that portion of the air which is fitted for combustion, but produces no change on that which is unfit: so that, according to this, the air of the atmosphere consists of two elastic fluids, one of which is capable of supporting combustion, and the other not; and that they exist in the proportion of one part of the former to three of the latter nearly.

These two parts may be separated from each other, and experiments made with them.

Many metals, and particularly manganese, when exposed to the atmosphere, attract the combustible air from it, without touching the other; and it may be procured from these metals by the application of heat, in very great purity.

Because this air is essential to the formation of acids, it has been called by chemists the acidifying principle, or oxygen gas.

On plunging a combustible body into the remaining air, it is instantly extinguished; an animal in the same situation is immediately deprived of life: from this latter circumstance this air has been called azote, or azotic gas. If we take three parts of azote and one of oxygen, and mix them together, we shall form an air in every respect similar to that of the atmosphere.

If I plunge a piece of iron, previously heated, into oxygen gas, it will burn with great brilliancy, the gas will be diminished in quantity, and the iron augmented in weight, and this increase of weight in the metal will be in proportion to the oxygen which has disappeared: at the same time a great quantity of heat is given out. This is the heat which was combined with the oxygen in the state of gas, and which now becomes free, when the oxygen becomes solid and joins with the iron.

The same phenomena take place when phosphorus is burned in oxygen gas; the gas becomes diminished, the phosphorus increased, in weight, and converted into an acid, and a great quantity of heat is given out. The same is the case when charcoal is burned in this gas. In short, in every instance of combustion, the oxygen combines with the combustible body, and at the same time gives out its heat, which supported it in the form of gas. This is the case of the combustion of coal in a common fire, as well as in other cases of combustion; the heat comes from the air, and not from the coal.

When we examine the phenomena of respiration with attention, we shall find them very analogous to those of combustion. A candle will not burn in an exhausted receiver: an animal in the same situation ceases to live.

When a candle is confined in a given quantity of atmospheric air, it will burn only for a certain length of time. On examining the air in which it has been burned, the oxygen is found to be all extracted, nothing remaining but azotic gas, and a quantity of carbonic acid gas, produced by the union of the charcoal of the candle with the oxygen of the atmospheric air.

In the same manner, if an animal be confined in a given quantity of atmospheric air, it will live only a short time; on examining the air in which it has ceased to live, it will be found to have lost its oxygen: what remains being a mixture of azotic and carbonic acid gases.

When a candle is enclosed in a given quantity of pure oxygen gas, it will burn four times as long as in the same quantity of atmospheric air.

In the same manner it has been proved, that an animal will be four times as long in consuming a given quantity of pure oxygen gas, as in rendering unfit for respiration the same quantity of atmospheric air.

Here then we observe a striking similarity between combustion and animal respiration. The ancients seem to have had a more accurate idea of respiration than most of the philosophers who followed them. They supposed that the air contained a principle proper for the support and nourishment of life, which they called pabulum vitae. This idea, which was unconnected with any hypothesis, was followed by systems destitute of foundation. Sometimes it was thought that the air in the lungs incessantly acted as a stimulus or spur to drive on the circulation; sometimes the lungs were considered in the light of a pair of bellows, or fan, to cool the body, which was supposed to be heated by a thousand imaginary causes: and when philosophers were convinced, by experiments, that the bulk of the air was diminished by respiration, they explained it by saying, that the air had lost its spring.

Modern chemistry however enables us to explain the phenomena of respiration in a satisfactory manner.

In order to see this, we shall proceed to examine the changes produced by respiration; firstly, on the air, and secondly, on the blood.

The air which has served for respiration, is found to contain a mixture of azotic and carbonic acid gas, with a small quantity of oxygen gas; and a considerable quantity of water is thrown off from the lungs, in the form of vapour, during respiration.

From a variety of facts, it appears that oxygen gas is decomposed in the lungs during respiration; a part of it unites, as we shall afterwards see, with the iron contained in the blood, and converts it into an oxid; another and greater portion unites with the carbon, brought by the venous blood from all parts of the body to the lungs, and thus forms carbonic acid gas; while another portion of the oxygen unites with the hydrogen, brought in the same manner by the blood, and forms water. Thus then we are able to account for the different products of respiration.

Hence we see, that the explanation of animal heat follows as a simple and beautiful corollary from the theory of combustion; and we may consider respiration as an operation in which oxygen gas is continually passing from the gaseous to the concrete state; it will therefore give out at every instant the heat which it held in combination, and this heat, being conveyed by the circulation of the blood to all parts of the body, is a constant source of heat to the animal.

These facts likewise enable us to explain the reason, why an animal preserves the same temperature, notwithstanding the various changes which occur in the temperature of the surrounding atmosphere. In winter the air is condensed by the cold, the lungs therefore receive a greater quantity of oxygen in the same bulk, and the heat extricated will be proportionally increased. In summer, on the contrary, the air being rarefied by the heat, a less quantity of oxygen will be received by the lungs during each inspiration, and consequently the heat which is extricated must be less.

For the same reason, in northern latitudes, the heat extricated by respiration will be much greater than in the southern. By this simple and beautiful contrivance, nature has moderated the extremes of climate, and enabled the human body to bear vicissitudes which would otherwise destroy it.

Of all the phenomena of the animal body, there is none at first sight more remarkable, than that which animals possess of resisting the extremes of temperature.

The heat of the body, as has already been observed, continues at the same degree, though the temperature of the atmosphere be sometimes considerably hotter, at other times considerably colder, than the animal body: so that man is able to live, and to preserve the temperature of health, on the burning sands of Africa, and on the frozen plains of Siberia.

The alterations of temperature which the human body has been known to bear, without any fatal or even bad effects, are not less than 400 degrees or 500 degrees of Fahrenheit. The natural heat of the human body is 96 degrees or 97 degrees. In the West Indies, the heat of the atmosphere is often 98 degrees or 99 degrees, and sometimes rises even to 126 degrees, or 30 degrees above the temperature of the human body, notwithstanding which, a thermometer put in the mouth points to 96 degrees or 97 degrees. The inhabitants of the hot regions of Surinam support, without inconvenience, the heat of their climate. We are assured that in Senegal, about the latitude of 17 degrees, the thermometer in the shade generally stands at 108 degrees, without any fatal effects to men or animals. The Russians often live in places heated by stoves to 108 degrees or 109 degrees, and some philosophers in this country, by way of experiment, remained a considerable time in a room heated above the boiling point of water.

On the other hand, an equal excess of cold seems to have no greater effect in altering the degree of heat proper to animal bodies. Delisle has observed a cold in Siberia 70 degrees below the zero of Fahrenheit's scale, notwithstanding which animals lived. Gmelin has seen the inhabitants of Jeniseisk under the 58th degree of northern latitude, sustaining a degree of cold, which in January became so severe, that the spirit in the thermometer was 126 degrees below the freezing point. Professor Pallas in Siberia, and our countrymen at Hudson's Bay, have experienced a degree of cold almost equal to this. All these facts tend to prove, that the heat of animals continues without alteration in very different temperatures. Hence it is evident that they must be able to produce a greater degree of heat, when surrounded by a cold medium; and on the contrary, that they must effect a diminution of the heat, when the surrounding medium is very hot.

All these circumstances may be accounted for, by the principles we have laid down; the decomposition of oxygen in the lungs.

There have not been wanting, however, some very eminent physiologists, who have contended that animal heat is produced chiefly by the nerves. They have brought forward in proof of this the well known fact, that when the spinal marrow is injured, the temperature of the body generally becomes diminished; and that in a paralytic limb the heat is less than ordinary, though the strength and velocity of the pulse remain the same. These facts, and others of a similar nature, have induced them to believe, that the nervous system is the chief cause and essential organ of heat; and they have adduced similar arguments, to prove that nutrition is performed by the nerves, for a limb which is paralytic from an injury of the nerves, wastes, though the circulation continues. The truth is, that the nerves exert their influence upon these, and all other functions of the body, and modify their action. The liver secretes bile, but if the nerves leading to it be destroyed, the secretion of bile will cease; but who will say, that the bile is secreted by the nerves? The nitric acid will dissolve metals, and this solution will go on more quickly if heat be applied; but surely the nitric acid is the solvent, the heat being only an aiding cause.