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THE 
 
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 T AND HYGIENE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 HOUSE IN WHICH WE LIVE. 
 
 uv 
 
 MARCUS P. HATFIELD, A.M., M.D., 
 
 Professor Diseases of Children, Medical Department, North-ivestern University. 
 
 " Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in 
 you ? If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy ; for the temple of God 
 is holy, which temple ye are." 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 CHAUTAUQUA PRESS, 
 
 C. L. S. C. Department, 
 
 805 Broadway. 
 

 
 The required books of the C. L. S. C. are recommended by 
 a Council of six. It must, however, be understood that recom- 
 mendation does not involve an approval by the Council, or by 
 any member of it, of every principle or doctrine contained in the 
 book recommended. 
 
 * PB E*T S. F REEOMAN ^^ 
 
 RAND AVERY COMPANY, PRINTERS, BOSTON. 
 
 Copyright 1807, by PHILLIPS & Hunt, 805 Broadway, New York. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The body, in this book, has been likened, in its various 
 parts, to a house, and it may be truthfully claimed that no 
 other of man's dwellings has as many "modern con- 
 veniences " as his body. There is nothing that his inge- 
 nuity has yet devised for the safety and comfort of his 
 home that he may not find foreshadowed, and usually bet- 
 tered, in the body. Where, for instance, can you find an 
 automatic steam or hot-water heater that will perform its 
 work as well as the thermogenetic system of the body ? 
 Where can the block or building be found that is as well 
 sewered and ventilated ? Furthermore, he finds in this 
 house of ours elevators, telegraphs, and telephones innumer- 
 able, also pictures, photographs, library and music-rooms, 
 and a dining-room from twenty to thirty feet long. But 
 the best of all are the hosts of trained and uncomplaining 
 servants that go with the premises ; porters, cooks, wait- 
 ers, messengers, photographers, carpenters and joiners, are 
 all found on the estate, and ready to work without other 
 wages than food and lodgings for their life-time, and 
 they never leave the property on any pretext whatever. 
 
 Moreover, this house of ours is portable, and can be 
 moved whenever we please ; and, what is more remark- 
 able, this house of clay, as the theologians call it, can be 
 
■k Preface. 
 
 rented for a term of years under the most reasonable con- 
 ditions. All the Landlord asks in return is that the prem- 
 ises should be kept in good repair. Surely the terms are 
 not hard, not difficult to comply with ; but, light and easy 
 as they are, the penalties attached to non-fulfillment are 
 heavy. Health is prompt and cheerful compliance with 
 the terms upon which we hold our bodies. Disease is 
 our witting or unwitting breaking of them. Hence the 
 absurdity of the question, " Why is not health catching 
 instead of disease?" Disease never occurs until the laws 
 of health have been broken somewhere — either by " this 
 man, or his father," by violation of personal or public 
 hygiene. This little book is designed to aid, as far as 
 possible, its readers to keep these laws, and in so far as it 
 accomplishes this, its purpose has been fulfilled. 
 
 M. P. Hatfield. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MOSAICS AND TAPESTRIES. 
 
 The body a mosaic — Hair follicles, number — Epithelial scales — Germinal 
 matter — Karyokinesis — Protoplasm, and alcohol — Blisters — Hairs in court 
 — Cowlicks and goose-skin — Care of the hair — Wigs and hair-dyes — Dan- 
 druff — Furred tongues and finger-nails — Corns, scars, cartilage — Areolar 
 tissue, fascia — Wrinkles — Rameses Page 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 BEAMS, RAFTERS, CUSHIONS, AND SERVANTS. 
 
 Two hundred and forty timbers, long, flat, short, irregular — Rickety 
 houses and children — Skull, cupola, "brain shell" — Cowley's comparison, 
 cubic contents and greatness — Phrenology and sinuses, fourteen face bones 
 and uses, seven neck bones and mechanism — Atlas and axis — Crooked 
 backs and round shoulders, how made and how remedied — Five sections to 
 arms, horses', pigs', and monkeys'; Ribs and thorax; Body really a double 
 tube, Chinaman on corsets, and Dr. Brown on fashion — Backbone, thirty- 
 three levers, Pott's disease, bumpers in back-bone and why shorter at night 
 than in the morning, Rabbi's immortal bone — Chemistry of the bones — 
 Fossil soap, adipocere and Frenchman's soap — Earthy part of bones, pecul- 
 iar markings — Growth requires twenty to thirty-five years — Varieties of 
 joints, and why — Walking, what — The uses of muscles, etymology, number, 
 Darning of more important groups — Voluntary and involuntary — How dif- 
 fer — Necessity for involuntary — Striped muscular tissue — Checkers in a 
 purse — Delicacy of action — The hand as a machine — All work moving 
 something — Skill, exactness of muscular action — Cramp, what — Muscular 
 sense — Blind physicians, tailors, postmaster-general — Wonder of walking, 
 muscular growth, heat, and exhaustion — Starved muscles — Calisthenics 
 
COKTBNTS. 
 
 versus house-work — Folly of laziness — Blessing and necessity of work — 
 Paralysis — Death of muscles — Rigor mortis — Necessity and uses of fat — 
 Where found— Starvation— Shakespeare on fat— Fat globules— Cellular tis- 
 sue a buttery, marrow a preserve closet Page 25 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 DINING-ROOM, COOKS, AND SCULLIONS. 
 
 Food, what, necessary elements (15), and where used, bricks and mortar 
 of house, proximate principles, groups, body chemically an egg — Three 
 groups of foods required — Frenchman's scheme to make a body, why fail- 
 ure — Cooked versus raw food — Teaching of teeth concerning food ; Tooth 
 dyspepsia, grinders required, why two sets, parts of a tooth, enamel prisms, 
 toothache, decay and candy — False teeth not new — Chinese tooth 
 carpenters — Eupepsia, what — Digestive ferments — Antiquity of pepsin — 
 Chyme, chyle, lacteals, and lymphatics, lymphatic glands — Scrofula — Glut- 
 tony more frequent than drunkenness — John Wesley's rules — Adulteration 
 of food — Cost of food — Carbonaceous foods and heat 60 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE WHEEL AT THE CISTERN. 
 
 Eastern irrigation — Aptness of the comparison — Size of the heart — Daily 
 work — The heart pump, parts and valves — Heart disease and sudden death 
 — Size and place of heart, apex beat, the round of circulation — " Chair 
 courante," color and chemistry of blood, red rouleaux, white corpuscles, 
 hasmatoblasts, amoeba, pus corpuscles, inflammation, Nature's surgery, 
 fi brine, importance of, " Bleeders," corpuscles Swiss body-guard, numbers, 
 coats of arteries, veins, intervascular spaces — Fainting, blushing, vaso- 
 motor system, heating the body — Coagulation of the blood, fibrine, exercise 
 — Jenness Miller costume — Tobacco heart — Apoplexy 94 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SEWERAGE AND VENTILATION. 
 
 Skin more than an elastic bag — Its miles of tubing remove one half sew- 
 erage of the bod} r — Relation of skin to kidneys — Pope's gilded boy — Water 
 cures, rubber bandage, relation of perspiration to heat — Fatality of burns, 
 and why — Lymphatics of skin — Lymph spaces — Tonsils and relation to 
 liver — Liver, what — "Blue devils" — Ur.ea ashes, uric acid cinders — Diabetes 
 
Contents. 7 
 
 — Anatomy of the kidney — Dropsy, catching cold, cold feet and death — 
 Creatin and creatiuin, typhoid fever, filth diseases— Ptoaminea and leucoa- 
 mines — Effects on system, life an eddy — The body's Gehenua — The wisdom 
 of Moses — Earth closets — Dangers of constipation — Saint Simeon Stylites — 
 " Fear God," etc. — Keep the body clean — Importance of ventilation — Black 
 Hole at Calcutta — Asphyxiated prayer-meetings — Ranch and Adirondack 
 cures — Quantity of air required for adult, sleeping-rooms, body, how ven- 
 tilated — Principle that of latest science — Cilia of air-passages — How not to 
 die of consumption — Tidal air, its impurities, respirators — Chloride of pal- 
 ladium alarm — Sewer-gas and diphtheria — Surgical pavilions Page 128 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " THE DAUGHTERS OF MUSIC, AND THEY THAT LOOK OUT AT 
 
 THE WINDOWS." 
 
 The tongue's box, not necessary for speech, Paul and 0. W. Holmes, 
 Unguals, labials, and palatals — Need of soft palate — Epiglottis, larynx, vo- 
 cal cords, speaking machines, audiphone, clergyman's sore throat, errors 
 in public speaking, John Wesley's prohibitions — Turbinated bones — Nasal 
 catarrh, cigarette-smoking — Catiline's "Keep your mouth shut" — Eusta- 
 chian tube, bones of the middle ear, membranes, windows, semicircular 
 canals, cochlea bags, semicircular filaments, otoliths, aural staircase, rods 
 of Corti, eight thousand tuning-forks — Rood's resonators, sound-waves, lim- 
 its of hearing — Music and rods of Corti — The new song and the music of the 
 spheres — " Eye hath not seen " — Camera whose negatives are preserved — 
 Retina, first plate — Lens, dark box, screens, diaphragm, lids, and lachrymal 
 apparatus — Why cry — Lachrymal duct, handkerchiefs and tear jugs — Red 
 eyes — Leah — Cross eyes and remedy — Muscles of lens — Headache from eye- 
 tire, far sight with age, spectacles, albinos, beauty and use of iris, light in 
 brain, not eye — Seeing stars, vitreous and aqueous humors — One-eightieth 
 inch retina, rods and cones — Length of impression, wheel of light — Light 
 for reading and whence, black spots, blur, dread of light, twilight reading, 
 twitching lids, eyes versus ears 1 G3 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 TELEGRAPHS AND PHONES. 
 
 Body in threes — Nerve first telegraph cable — Substance of Schwann, 
 sheath, axis cylinder — Plexus — Ganglion a relay station — Sympathetic 
 nervous system — "Involuntary nerves" — Neurasthenia-Spinal cord, A. M. 
 and P. S. roots— Pile of ganglia — Brain knots — Brains of insect-, corpus 
 
8 Contents. 
 
 callosum and dusty blanc-mange, ventricles, nerve cells and tubes- 
 Student's comparison of membranes of brain, " spider's web " — " The tree of 
 life" — Crumpled cloths — Medulla and relation to P. S. ganglia — Two hun- 
 dred and sixty feet per second quick as thought, 3,155,160,000 ideas — 
 Phosphates and thought— Neuralgia — Exhausted batteries — Sleep, victory 
 of sympathetic over cerebro-spinal — Amount required — Insomnia and busi- 
 ness — Dreams — Somnambulism— Mental habits, memorj' — Soul's picture 
 house vs. Pompeiian frescoes — As a man thinketh so he is — Mrs. Browning 
 on reading — Newspapers, slang and gossip, and habit — White Cross 
 Knights Page 185 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MOTH, RUST, AND MICROBES. 
 
 Mortgage with each lease — Foreclosure largely optional with tenant — 
 Terms irrevocable, and the best possible under the circumstances — Earache 
 and brain fever, diphtheria and filth — The place of the doctor — Faith cures 
 — Dr. Buckley — Hercules and the wagoner — The mystery of death and 
 suffering — Hilton on pain — Saxe Holm — Chinese and cholera — Providence 
 never does for us what we can do for ourselves — Gold, silver, grain, tim- 
 ber — School-house to study the works of God — Ourselves not least — Neg- 
 lect of body for books foolishness, since only one lease permitted — Paul's 
 letter to the Corinthians — The body a Shylock when wronged — Rack-rent 
 — Law inflexible but just — Ignorance no bar — As yet in part — Through a 
 glass, darkly — What science has to say of moth and rust — Aptness of terms 
 — Oxidation — Erernacausis — Life a perpetual miracle — Why — Moses's bush 
 a type of the body — On microbes and bacteria — Definition, varieties — Torula 
 and fermentation — Sore mouth — Anthrax — Scarlet fever — Tuberculosis — 
 Malaria — Beale on bacteria — Fascination of the subject — Infinitely great 
 and little— Wordsworth 210 
 
 PART II.— APPENDIX. 
 
 Practical hints in regard to the care and development of the body, ac- 
 cording to the methods of Dr. Anderson and Wm. Blaikie 257 
 
 Index 211 
 
Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MOSAICS AXD TAPESTRIES. 
 
 There are at Rome four marvelous mosaics. Viewed 
 from the pavement beneath they appear like exquisite life- 
 size paintings representing the four evangelists, but with a 
 nearer approach they become gigantic in their proportions, 
 and it is found that their Avealth of color and beauty of 
 form are due to bits of colored glass and stone, so skillfully 
 arranged that at a distance they produce all the effect of an 
 oil-painting. 
 
 So it is with the human body when studied beneath a 
 microscope. All the beauties of color and form of this 
 earthly habitation are there found to be due to a marvel- 
 ous mosaic of cells whose workmanship is more exquisite 
 than that of any Roman or Florentine workman. Even an 
 ordinary hand-glass will reveal the ragged edges and rough 
 joinings of these pictures in stone, but the finest micro- 
 scope fails to show any imperfection in the finish of the 
 mosaic of cells found in the body. Take for instance the 
 cross section of a single human hair and the sac in which it 
 is held. In what king's palace can a more beautiful piece of 
 mosaic be found than this ? German patience, like divine wis- 
 dom, has recently taken the time to number the hairs of our 
 heads, and iimls that a red head has 90,000 of these mosaics, 
 a black 108,000, and two brown ones 109,000 and 140,000 
 
10 
 
 Physiologt a.m> Hygiknb. 
 
 respectively, and each one 
 perfectly shown in the cut. 
 
 Cross section of human hair follicle, show- 
 ing outer fibrous coat, basement membrane, 
 outer root sheath, polyhedral cells, inner root 
 sheath, and hair itself. 
 
 finished with a dainty care im- 
 No wonder Paul declares that a 
 woman's hair is her glory. 
 What would he have said 
 could he have looked 
 through tlie modern micro- 
 scope, which reveals thou- 
 sands of wonders never 
 dreamed of without its 
 aid ? And yet we take 
 weary journeys to far-off 
 Rome and Naples to see 
 Pompeian mosaics with- 
 out a tithe of the beauty 
 of those we carry about 
 with us daily. 
 
 Nor are the tissues, or 
 tapestries of the body less wonderful than those of the Gobe- 
 lin factory, which cannot produce such a sack as the human 
 integument, or skin. Such another bag was never elsewhere 
 woven, for its fabrics are so delicate that they need to be 
 kept covered with fine powder lest they should be in- 
 jured. Histologists call this powder dried epithelial scales, 
 and with these the whole surface of the body is dusted 
 in layers of various thickness, always deepest where there is 
 the greatest pressure. Hence, on the soles of the feet and 
 the palms of the hands the outer layers of the skin become 
 thick and horny ; but epithelial scales are found every-where 
 else as well, completely covering the surface of the true 
 skin, which lies beneath, and is thus protected by these 
 fine white scales, softer than snow and serving a not dissimi- 
 lar use. Take the blade of a penknife and gently scrape the 
 back of the hand, and in a few seconds these scales may be 
 found as a fine white dust on the knife blade. So light and 
 impalpable is this epithelial powder that a breath carries it 
 away, and fortunately so, for otherwise we should grow as 
 thick-skinned as a rhinoceros. Layer after layer of these 
 
 
Mosaics and Tapestkies. 11 
 
 dried scales are continually falling from the surface of the 
 body in larger numbers than the dead leaves of an autumn 
 forest, so that epithelial scales can be found every-where that 
 dust gathers, "from the tops of the highest mountains to 
 the innermost recesses of the pyramids." And whence 
 comes this never-ending supply of fine, branny scales ? They 
 are pushed up from below by an incessant growth of new 
 integument, or skin, which shoulders away the parent 
 cells which produced it, and thrusts them out to die of ex- 
 posure, like a pious Hindoo on the banks of the Ganges. 
 Integument consists therefore of two kinds of matter: loose 
 white scales on the surface of the body and the rounder, 
 moister ones beneath ; the former are dying or dead, and the 
 latter are alive, and possess germinal matter. 
 
 Germinal matter, so named by Dr. Lionel Beale, is per- 
 haps the most marvelous thing in all the human body. It is, 
 in a certain sense, its builder ; for there is a time when the 
 body begins its existence as a transparent mass in which are 
 imbedded granular points. These differ from the matter in 
 which they are imbedded by the latter refusing to take a 
 stain from a carmine solution, which readily tints germinal 
 matter with its characteristic color. This germinal matter 
 is almost as transparent as that by which it is surrounded, 
 and, so far as can at present be ascertained, is perfectly 
 structureless. It consists of minute points not larger than 
 one fifty-thousandth of an inch in diameter, scattered or in 
 groups, and always surrounded by larger or smaller quanti- 
 ties of so-called formed material (matrix). This formed 
 material is supposed to be the product of germinal matter, 
 and, unlike germinal matter, has no more vitality than any 
 other organic compound. Like other organic matter, formed 
 material is subjected to the usual laws of chemistry, and is 
 oxidized and changed like similar material outside of the 
 body;, but germinal matter resists such agents, and as long 
 as it lives possesses the property of being able to project one 
 part of itself in advance of the remainder. In this way 
 germinal matter may travel directly through any of the tis- 
 
12 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 sues of the body, apparently using formed material for nutri- 
 ment as it divides and subdivides. The chief work of germinal 
 matter seems to be its division and subdivision; upon this 
 the growth of the tissues depends, while cell walls and in- 
 termediate substance (formed material) become variously 
 modified and form the various parts of the body, such as 
 bone, cartilage, muscle, and integument. And thus it is the 
 body grows, germinal matter breaking up into smaller por- 
 tions, or nuclei, as they are called, each taking a spheroidal 
 portion of formed material with it, and dividing and sub- 
 dividing as growth requires, often after the most intricate 
 fashion, weaving itself into graceful stars, loops, rosettes, 
 wreaths, etc. (such as here figured), infinitesimally small, of 
 course, for they can be seen only through a microscope. 
 
 Upon these freaks of 
 motion, for such they 
 seem, depend the exist- 
 ence of the body; for 
 these twistings and 
 turnings of germinal 
 matter precede its self- 
 division, and upon its 
 subdivison depends the 
 multiplication of cells 
 and all that it implies in 
 the matter of growth 
 and decay. 
 
 Germinal matter is 
 the same thing as the protoplasm over which the scientists 
 and theologians have often so unwisely fought. Protoplasm is 
 not God, as some of the scientific men would have us believe, 
 but, on the other hand, it as really exists as air, and is as cap- 
 able of being shown in its wondrous work. Denying the ex- 
 istence of protoplasm, or whatever you may prefer to call 
 it, does not abolish it. It may be used unfairly as a weapon 
 against revealed religion, but too many such efforts have 
 failed in the past, to give the Christian any uneasiness in re- 
 
 Karyokinesis, or movements of cellular proto- 
 plasm. 
 
Mosaics and Tapestries. 13 
 
 gard to the final outcome. Let him wait patiently, and he 
 finds that his enemy's weapons become his best defense, as 
 to-day one of the weightiest arguments against alcohol is 
 framed from its effects upon this germinal or protoplasmic 
 matter. ^ 
 
 Strong alcohol dropped on heart muscles first paralyzes, 
 then kills, this germinal matter. But, it may be said, only 
 dilute alcohol is used for drinking, and this, when taken into 
 the circulation, quickens the heart's action. Yes, temporarily, 
 as it also makes us for a time think ourselves wiser and 
 stronger than any one else. "O," says Dr. Holmes, "if the 
 alcoholic virtues would only wash! " But, alas! they will not, 
 for the poem, the book, the lecture delivered under alcoholic 
 stimulus is never taken elsewhere at its valuation. The dyn- 
 amometer is pitiless in its verdict, and that says absolutely 
 that these servants of ours cannot lift, pull, or do any kind 
 of work as well after as before the glass of whisky that 
 makes one feel — that is exactly it: apparently, not really — 
 stronger; for physiological experimentation proves that alco- 
 hol, in whatever form, diminishes the sensibility and lessens 
 the contractility of germinal matter wherever it is found. 
 Dip your fingers into alcohol, and after a little you will find 
 them numb from the effect of the alcohol upon the germinal 
 matter of the skin, for it is this germinal matter that perpet- 
 ually renews the loose scales which make up the outer or 
 scarf skin, which protects the sensitive nerves and tissues be- 
 neath. The necessity of such protection is shown whenever 
 the scarf skin is removed, either by rubbing or blistering, 
 and the sensitive true skin exposed to the air. This same is 
 seen in a chapped skin, which is one from which the outer 
 layer of epithelial scales has been removed by cold or irritat- 
 ing fluids, leaving the lower and softer layers to crack and 
 bleed. This will be readily understood by a reference to the 
 annexed cut, which represents the different layers of the skin 
 on the tips of the fingers. The ends of the nerves and the 
 blood-vessels of the skin are not well shown in the picture, 
 which is simply designed i<> show ihe epidermis, <>r layer 
 
14 
 
 Physiology and 1Iy<jiene. 
 
 of dried scales, basement membrane, and a soft layer of gran- 
 ular and germinal matter beneath, constituting the corium, 
 
 Section of the Skix. 
 a. The epidermis, h. Two of the quadrangular papillary clumps com- 
 posed of minute conical papillae, such as are seen in the palm of the hand 
 or the sole of the foot. c. Deep layer of the derma, the corium. d. Tac- 
 tile corpuscle. 
 
 or true skin. Through the skin pass several miles of sweat 
 glands, hereafter to be described; and in it are also imbedded 
 the hairs, nails, and sebaceous glands. 
 
 Hair is designed to form an elastic protection and adorn- 
 ment for the head. Minute hairs are, with few exceptions, 
 also found every- where upon the surface of the body; but 
 they are, if we are to believe the evolutionists, the useless 
 heritage left us by our great grandfathers, the apes. A 
 fine head of hair is a gift to be proud of, whether black, 
 red, or gray; for the best art of man has never yet succeeded 
 in making a satisfactory substitute, and it never will until it 
 succeeds in making as exquisite a hair factory as that found 
 in a hair follicle. A single hair is an insignificant thing, ac- 
 cording to our way of thinking, but in the biblical sense of the 
 statement our hairs are all numbered; for more care is shown 
 in the arrangement of a single hair follicle than in an elab- 
 
Mosaics and TAPESTRIES. 15 
 
 orate mosaic (page 10). First, we find a fibrous sac (h) lined 
 with glassy membrane (</), inside of which are set the 
 outer and inner root sheaths (d. e.f), most beautifully con- 
 structed of cells containing dark poinds of germinal or grow- 
 ing matter, and internal to this the cuticle of the hair (<:;), its 
 cortex, or bark (&), and its marrow, or pith (a) ; for hairs 
 possess marrow no less than bones. More properly, it resem- 
 bles the pith of a feather, for it does not answer in any wise 
 except in name to the marrow of the bones, which is largely 
 fat. The fat of the hair is found in two little sacs, which 
 serve a similar purpose to those found on a larger scale on 
 the backs of water-fowl, located at the base of each hair 
 (sebaceous glands). Man is in reality feathered, although 
 Plato defined him as a "featherless biped;" but with better 
 eyes he would have found that his definition was not scientific- 
 ally correct, for a hair is essentially the same thing as a feather. 
 They both have a central shaft, a pith, and a vane of barbs; 
 but in the hair these encircle the shaft instead of being ar- 
 ranged laterally as on a quill. These barbs are proportion- 
 ally smaller in the hair, but still they may be felt, even when 
 they cannot be seen, as is readily proven by pulling a horse 
 hair the wrong way between the fingers. The barbs or 
 scales of a human hair overlie each other like shingles on a 
 roof, and are unlike those of other animals. Microscopists 
 are able, therefore, to tell with certainty from what animal 
 a hair lias been taken.* 
 
 A hair is prolonged at one end into a sharp, tapering point, 
 and at the other it is expanded into a root, or bulb, as it is 
 well named. Each hair bulb is set into a flask-shaped pocket 
 
 * In the late Piper case tried in Boston the guilt of the prisoner was 
 established by a single human hair adhering to the inside of the prisoner's 
 coat; and Gosse relates the following more remarkable case: "The knife 
 of a prisoner on trial for murder was found to be stained with blood, which 
 contained a single hair. The prisoner claimed that the knife had been used 
 for killing pigs ; but the microscope proved that the hair was not a pig's 
 bristle, but a squirrel's hair; and as the little girl who had been murdered 
 had worn at that time a squirrel boa, the chain of evidence was com- 
 plete." 
 
16 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 or depression in the skin, very much as children thrust twigs 
 into soft clay, and the bottom of each pocket is lined 
 with points of germinal matter, which reproduce the hair 
 continually. Sometiiftes nature plays strange pranks in 
 planting these bulbs, and instead of planting them in regular 
 rows sets them round in circles, and then their unfortunate 
 owner discovers, to his great annoyance, that he is the owner 
 of a "cowlick," which requires all his patience and pomatum 
 to keep in subjection. Fright and cold 
 may also produce, on a small scale, tem- 
 porary cowlicks; for attached to the base 
 of each of these hair pockets are two min- 
 iature, involuntary muscles, by whose con- 
 traction some of the lower animals, as the 
 horse and pig, erect their hair. In man 
 these muscles are only influenced by cold 
 or fright, which produces that condition of 
 the skin known as " goose-skin," due to the 
 Longitudinal section contraction of these tiny muscles. 
 rXCJTJX A hair, in its structure, is ss delicate as the 
 papilla, and tbe muscle finest feather; and while it is exceedingly 
 (museums erector piii). elagtiCj and perfectly adapted for the pur- 
 pose for which it was designed, it cannot be frizzled and 
 burnt and broken without destroying its beauty and its life. 
 A hair curls for the same reason that a shaving does; namely, 
 they are both flattened cylinders. The more nearly cylin- 
 drical a hair, the stiff er and straighter it becomes, as is seen in 
 the Indian, while we find the opposite extreme in the negro, 
 whose hair cylinders are so much flattened that they become 
 kinky as wool despite the owner's efforts to the contrary. 
 
 The coloring matter of the hair is located in the pith, or 
 central part, and its gloss is due largely to nature's pomatum 
 pots, two of which are attached to the root of each hair, so 
 that other dressing for the hair than a brisk brushing with a 
 stiff brush is hardly ever required. 
 
 All other applications, unless it be a little water or vaseline, 
 are untidy or injurious, except in cases of diseases of the 
 
Mosaics and Tapestjues. 17 
 
 scalp, when a physician's advice should be taken instead of an 
 "almanac's tonic." Patent hair dyes are especially to be 
 shunned; for with very few exceptions they owe their value 
 to lead salts, and these, sooner or later, produce poisoning 
 and paralysis. No one in his senses was ever long deceived 
 by dyed hair, although the attempt is as old as the time of the 
 Pharaohs; but the Egyptians were wiser than we, for they 
 shaved the obnoxious hair off from their heads and wore, in- 
 stead, wigs dyed to order. Artificial hirsute abominations 
 date back to Margaret of Navarre. " Margaret of Navarre," 
 says history, " having through sickness lost her blonde locks, 
 cut off similar ones from her plebeian subjects and wore them 
 instead of her own." History repeats itself, and every town 
 has its local Margarets, who borrow their coiffures or bleach 
 their own locks by means of peroxide of hydrogen, and there- 
 by permanently injure their hair. Gray hairs are a crown 
 of glory, says an excellent authority. Moreover, as yet, 
 no device has been found that will safely restore them to 
 their original color. Early gray hairs and bald heads are 
 part of the price that is paid for modern civilization; and 
 the only way to defer the inevitable is to keep the head cool, 
 occasionally washed free from dandruff with a little borax 
 and water, and the hair thoroughly brushed with a stiff 
 brush several times daily. 
 
 Dandruff is simply another name for the dead, epithelial 
 scales found every-where on the surface of the body; but be- 
 ing confined to the head by the hair, they are apt to accumu- 
 late until they become a source of annoyance to the possessor. 
 Unless it arises from a diseased seal}), dandruff may be 
 readily removed by washing the head with a solution of 
 borax or salts of tartar, either of which readily dissolves 
 these scales, but requires that the scalp should be washed im- 
 mediately after with pure warm water. Similar treatment 
 will remove the coating on the tongue, observed in many dis- 
 ordered conditions of the system. It would be a Hibernicism 
 to peak of this coating on the tongue as a dandruff of the 
 mouth, but in reality both are due t<» a similar cause; namely. 
 
18 Physiology and IIvgiene. 
 
 excessive death of epithelial cells, which in consequence ac- 
 cumulate instead of being, as usual, swept away as fast as 
 they die. In case of the tongue, the reason of this undue 
 accumulation is congestion of the membrane lining the 
 mouth, causing an increased growth of the cells on the surface 
 of the tongue, which remain pasty and white or may become 
 dried and colored by the disordered secretions of the mouth. 
 The secretions of the mouth are as a rule diminished at such 
 times, and hence are insufficient to remove the fur, which 
 in protracted fevers continues to increase, unless removed, 
 adding greatly to the discomfort of the sick. There is, how- 
 ever, no better reason for allowing this to remain in the 
 mouth than dirt elsewhere upon the surface of the body. 
 It can easily be removed by scraping with the sharp edge of 
 a penknife ; and the mouth of a f ever patient should no more 
 be allowed to become unclean than his face. 
 
 The relation of a furred tongue to finger-nails may not be 
 apparent unless it be remembered that the nails, like the fur 
 upon the tongue, are epithelial scales packed closely to- 
 gether. With proper treatment under a microscope they 
 can be shown to be identical, with, however, this very great 
 difference: the fur upon the tongue is dead and decaying 
 matter, fit only to be thrown out of the body, while the 
 nails, though hardly less vital, are admirably designed to pro- 
 tect and assist the ends of the fingers and the toes. A cut- 
 ting of nail, even though it be not worshiped like that taken 
 from the grand Lama of Thibet, is well worth our study. 
 Examine a nail under a high power microscope and you will 
 discover that it is made up of a multitude of little scales, so 
 closely packed together, like figs in a box, that they are firm 
 and solid and give the horny appearance to the nail. Be- 
 neath these we find softer, translucent cells (one fifteen- 
 thousandth of an inch) which are continually growing and 
 producing new nail at the root and the quick; that at the root 
 pushing the nail forward and free from the end of the finger. 
 The cells at the quick of the nail are so much larger than 
 when they crowded together above that, to accommodate 
 
Mosaics and Tapestries. 19 
 
 them all, the bed of the nail is grooved or thrown into ridges 
 into which the nail dove-tails, and thus, like a ship on the 
 ways, is directed in the way in which it should go. As long 
 as the bed of the nail is uninjured it will reproduce fresh 
 nail, making an entire new one in four to six months; but if 
 these ridges are destroyed a straight nail can never grow on 
 that finger again, although nails have been known to appear 
 on a second joint when the first has been removed. 
 
 A corn is an effort to form a nail, caused by the pressure 
 of a boot upon one point of the soft tissues beneath. Press- 
 ure crowds the epithelial scales into a hard horny mass coni- 
 cal in shape. Its increase in size increases the pressure, 
 and so on indefinitely until the pain becomes exquisite. 
 Every motion of the foot seems to push upon that especial 
 spot, not because that point is touched more frequently than 
 usual, but simply because each touch becomes painfully ap- 
 parent. Corns are the price we pay for improperly shaped 
 boots; for a savage, having none, only acquires calloused, or 
 generally thickened, soles. The pressure producing a corn is 
 on one point, and as the result of this the corn con- 
 stantly becomes worse unless it is removed by the chi- 
 ropodist, and some method is devised to relieve the spot from 
 pressure for the future. The proper shape for the sole of a 
 shoe can be obtained by placing the stockinged foot upon a 
 sheet of paper and tracing its outlines. Such a shoe may not 
 be in the prevailing fashion, but it will accurately fit the foot 
 and make walking a pleasure instead of a painful hobbling 
 after the Chinese fashion. The feet deserve better care and 
 more frequent attention than they usually get, especially in 
 the way of nightly baths and well-fitting shoes. 
 
 Too frequent bathing is not desirable for the feeble in 
 a northern climate; but a foot-bath, with mustard or salt 
 if the circulation is poor, will do much to do away with cold 
 feet, headache, and sleeplessness. Much of the general lack 
 of enjoyment of health among well-to-do people comes from 
 the clogging of the pores of the skin by an effort on its part to 
 do the work of other organs. A shining, greasy, pasty-looking 
 
20 Physiology and Hygiem:. 
 
 skin means this, and requires a change in the mode of living — 
 more fully to be discussed under secretiou and excretion — or 
 
 the complexion will be irretrievably ruined in spite of all pow- 
 ders and cosmetics. So dainty a piece of mosaic cannot be 
 powdered, rouged, and white-leaded with impunity. The 
 best cosmeties are a healthy liver, good food, fresh air, and 
 frequent bathing of the face with soft water or that contain- 
 ing almond meal. 
 
 A broken skin fortunately mends itself, for germinal 
 matter attends to that. If the general health of the body 
 is well preserved there is a perpetual renewing, or relay- 
 ing of the epithelial mosaic by these tiny, glassy points; 
 moreover, when this is destroyed or injured, as by a cut or 
 burn, in a very brief time these same tireless workers pour 
 out a colorless glue which covers the wounded spot, and under 
 which, unless the injury has been too great, a new layer forms. 
 The most that the most expert surgeon can do in such cases is 
 to imitate Ambroise Pare, who said of his work, "I salve and 
 God heals." All that antiseptic or any other surgery can do 
 is to prevent external causes hindering this healing process. 
 How fibril is joined to fibril and nerve to nerve we do not as 
 yet know; but it seems as if each sort of germinal matter 
 reached out and joined itself to its own kind. At all events, 
 somehow or other, unless irritated by the microscopic germs 
 every-where floating in the air, this union takes place, and we 
 have now what is known as a cicatrix, or sea?', denser and firmer 
 than the original tissue. It is, in fact, a seam put into the 
 torn tapestries with a finer than human skill, but still a seam, 
 and, like all seams, thicker and not so perfect as the original 
 fabric. Still, it is vastly better than an unseemly rent, or an 
 aching cut, and is the best that can be done under the cir- 
 cumstances. Now, if for any reason the germinal matter is 
 unable to piece together the hole, there is left a running sore, 
 which when of lone standing is one of the most difficult 
 things in the world to heal, for the reason that the germinal 
 matter at its base devotes itself to manufacturing white cor- 
 puscles (pus) instead of plastic lymph. Germinal matter 
 
Mosaics and Tapestries. 21 
 
 like men may get into bad habits, and one of these is the 
 secretion of pus, or matter, as we ordinarily call it, from a 
 healing surface. 
 
 Cartilage and connective tissue next deserve our attention, 
 for in them we find how germinal matter binds together the 
 different parts of the body; and nowhere can we find daintier 
 work than that done by germinal matter in fibro-cartilage, 
 as it is called, or that gristly material which ties together cer- 
 tain of the bones of the body. We find (beneath the micro- 
 scope) that this unsightly material has as exquisite a design 
 and finish as the finest Florentine mosaic. Or perhaps it can 
 be better likened to a pictured tapestry. In fact, its name ex- 
 presses as much; for it is one of the tissues of the body, and 
 a tissue is something woven. These tissues are well named; 
 for they possess scarcely less beauty, and more utility, than 
 the famous Gobelin hangings. The anatomists call these tap- 
 estries, or tissues, by various names, such as areolar, elastic, 
 connective, etc., each of which has its peculiar excellence and 
 beauty. The most widely used of these hangings is the 
 areolar, connective tissue, so called because it is honey-combed 
 with small openings, or areas, connecting with each other. 
 This elastic packing fills every nook and cranny of the body, 
 and encircles its every organ so completely that if in 
 any way all else could be dissolved away, the connective 
 tissue would still form a ghost-like model of the body 
 complete in all its parts, and bearing about the same rela- 
 tion to a man that skeletonized leaves do to a green tree. 
 Beautiful as such a body might be, it would be as useless as 
 the "'baseless fabric of a dream," for all practical purposes. 
 A body composed entirely of connective tissue would be as 
 unsatisfactory as one composed of twine; but, rightly joined 
 and fitted to the other parts, connective tissue is as invalua- 
 ble as cordage on shipboard, and it is as variously modified 
 to meet its various requirements as is a ship's rigging. 
 
 Now this areolar, connective tissue, or that resembling 
 honey-comb, is, like honey-comb, filled with fluid (serum). 
 Like every tiling else in the body, this tissue fluid — which 
 
22 Physiology and Hygienb. 
 
 closely resembles the watery part of the blood — has its 
 duty to perform; namely, to moisten the five hundred odd 
 muscles and their sheaths, which otherwise would rasp them- 
 selves to pieces over each other or the bones to which they 
 are attached. (The absence of this fluid, conjoined with 
 wasting of the muscles, gives us the pitiable objects known 
 as living skeletons, who make a scanty living by exhibiting 
 themselves at dime museums. Excess of this fluid consti- 
 tutes dropsy, a hardly less unfortunate condition.) 
 
 Again, this connective tissue is not unlike the coarse paper 
 laid beneath our carpets, and between the siding of a house, 
 in thin, elastic sheets, serving as protection and packing for 
 the odd nooks and corners that need filling up for symmetry. 
 Otherwise the " form divine " would be as angular as a Vir- 
 ginia rail fence. The structure of the body's sheet wadding 
 (to use the name given by dressmakers to a substance similarly 
 employed to help out Nature's deficiencies) varies according to 
 the especial use to which it is to be put; but it is essentially a 
 web of fine, wavy, white, inelastic fibers (one four-thousandth 
 to one forty-thousandth of an inch in diameter), crossed by a 
 greater or less number of coarser, yellow, elastic fibers, and 
 according as the first or second of these predominates we 
 have what is known as white fibrous or yellow elastic tissue. 
 Where the first of these is used for muscle sheathing, it is 
 called fasc la, from the Latin word for bandage; and an ex- 
 cellent name it is, for it well expresses the care with which 
 these bundles of muscles are swathed. We admire the inge- 
 nuity and the almost endless yards of bandaging employed 
 by the Egyptians in preparing their mummies; but even 
 greater care has been used in enveloping not only each limb, 
 but every muscle as well, of the body. Each of these has its 
 separate bandage or sheath, which differs somewhat as it 
 is found near the surface of the body or deeper. The ex- 
 ternal or superficial fascia lie near the surface, and consist of 
 moist, loose layers of connective tissue, while that which 
 lies below is often woven into intricate layers. 
 
 Connective tissue, when long boiled, yields a transparent 
 
Mosaics and Tapestries. 23 
 
 substance known as gelatine, largely used in making artificial 
 jelly. In addition the chemist finds in it a small percentage 
 of inorganic salts and a large proportion of water; for connec- 
 tive tissue, like all the other soft parts of the body, is com- 
 posed mainly of water. More than half (sixty-one per cent.) 
 of the weight of a healthy body is due to the water which it 
 contains, and when this is removed by drying, or age, the 
 skin naturally shrinks and wrinkles. Wrinkles are inevita- 
 ble with age; but it is entirely within our power to decide 
 whether they shall be lines of content and happiness or 
 moroseness, for wrinkling takes place in line of the greatest 
 wasting of the facial muscles. Hence, one preserver of 
 the form divine proposes to obviate this by washing and 
 rubbing the face up instead of down as is usually prac- 
 ticed. Possibly this and chewing chamois leather, as is 
 also proposed by the same artist, may put off the evil 
 day; but a second fountain of youth would be required to 
 prevent the wasting of fatty tissue, which sooner or later 
 comes with advancing age. 
 
 Germinal matter, like every thing else, at last loses its vital- 
 ity. In early life, so long as protoplasm is supplied with 
 proper food, there seems to be hardly any limit to its powers 
 of multiplication. During all these years the body con- 
 stantly increases in height and weight. Then there comes a 
 period when germinal matter just suffices to supply the 
 waste of the body. These are the years in which the 
 debtor and creditor accounts of the body in composition and 
 decomposition exactly balance each other, or the sum of all 
 the weights of the substances leaving the body exactly 
 equal the weight of all the ingesta, or substances, including 
 air, taken into the body. At last there comes a time when 
 germinal matter is unable to fully repair the losses of the 
 body, and then follow laxity of fiber, watery blood, and 
 pallor of the lace. "We all do fade as a leaf," and from 
 exactly the same cause — namely, failing protoplasmic activity; 
 which finally by the wisdom of its Creator brings us to the 
 time " when the keepers of the house; shall tremble, and the 
 
24 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease be- 
 
 cause they arc Pew, and those that look out of the windows 
 be darkened, and the doors shall be shut in the streets, when 
 the sound of the grinding is low. . . . and the almond tree 
 shall flourish, and the grasshopper shall be a burden, and 
 desire shall fail: because man goeth to his long home. . . . 
 Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the 
 snirit shall return unto God who gave it." 
 
 mfr 
 
 Rameses II. of Egypt. 
 
 The only apparent exemption from the flat, " dust to dust,' 1 is found in 
 the case of the Egyptian mummies, which have been preserved by the 
 care of their embalmers for thousands of years. The most interesting of 
 all these is the mummy of Rameses II., recently discovered, and identified 
 by Professor Maspero, by its inscriptions, as the Pharaoh who oppressed 
 the Israelites and made their lives bitter with hard bondage in mortar 
 and in brick. The body is that of an old man, for Rameses "must have 
 been nearly a hundred years old when he died, but even under the some- 
 what grotesque disguise of mummification there is plainly to be seen an 
 air of sovereign majesty, of resolve and pride. 1 '— Maspero. 
 
Beams, Raftees, Cushions, and Seevants. 25 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 BEAMS, RAFTERS, CUSHIONS, AND SERVANTS. 
 
 Sydney Smith wished in hot weather to take off his 
 flesh and skin and let the breezes blow through his bare 
 bones, but he was a good physician as well as a witty clergy- 
 man, so that a skeleton had for him none of the horrors that 
 it has for those unused to its sight. It ought to call to mind 
 no thoughts of " some charnel-house o'er-covered quite with 
 dead men's rattling bones," but rather wonder and admi- 
 ration for the divine skill which so wisely planned the 
 beams and rafters of the house in which we live. A skel- 
 eton literally means something dry, and such it appears to 
 the majority of students of anatomy and histology, but there 
 is much to be learned and remembered from even an old 
 bone. There may cluster about old bones some of our hap- 
 piest recollections: Bible stories of the bones of the patri- 
 archs; of Joseph's bones, carried, by the children of Israel 
 during all their forty years of wandering; of the jawbone 
 with which Samson smote the Philistines; Elisha's bones, and 
 the dead man; of Tamerlane's famous pile of skulls; the bones 
 of the eleven thousand virgins at Cologne, and many more. 
 Geologically they nave taught us all we know concerning 
 the strange monsters, the Megalosaurus, Dinotherium, Cheiro- 
 therium, Pliosaurus, and Pterodactyl. Of these we have but 
 some bits of broken bones left, but from them the geologist 
 has conjured up weirder monsters and stranger scenes than 
 ever came from opium or hasheesh. Or, if you are math- 
 ematically inclined, there lies before you a whole calculus of 
 possible problems respecting the mechanics and building to- 
 gether of these two hundred and forty timbers all fitly joined 
 together by the Master-builder. Like the rest of his work, it 
 
26 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 is well clone and without haste, for it takes nearly thirty-five 
 years to complete all of the bones of the body. If Flourens's 
 rule is correct, that one fifth of an animal's life is occupied in 
 the ossification of its cartilages, we ought to live at least one 
 hundred and fifty years, but as a rule man rarely attains to the 
 Psalmist's threescore and ten. Statistics on this subject have 
 only been recently kept, but there is nevertheless a gratify- 
 ing increase in the average life-time of man. In the sixteenth 
 century the average longevity at Geneva was only 21.2 
 years. In 1603 the English government found it could profit- 
 ably sell life annuities based on an average expectation of life 
 of 26.5 years only. Ninety-seven years later, they were 
 obliged to raise this to 33.9 years to avoid loss, and again in 
 1871 this was again increased to 41, so that for Englishmen 
 at least the span of life is lengthening. In fact, many if not 
 most of their prominent men are still hard at work at an age 
 that a century ago would have been expected to have laid 
 them in retirement, if not actually in their graves. 
 
 Bancroft, Bismarck, Gladstone, De Lesseps, N. S. Davis, 
 are all in years, past what was once supposed to be the age 
 of efficient work, yet each of them stands to-day easily at 
 the head of his particular line of work. John Quincy 
 Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Brougham, Disraeli and Palmer- 
 ston are all instances that a man's efficiency need not be 
 measured by his years, for all of these did their best work 
 when past seventy. Worry, fret and debt do more to age 
 men than intellectual work. We hear much of youthful 
 genius, but a careful analysis, by the late Dr. Beard, of the 
 life-work of the thousand men who have been the leaders in 
 the world's thought and activity shows that their greatest 
 efficiency has been between forty and fifty, or, as Dr. Beard 
 puts it, "the bronze age for man is between twenty and 
 thirty, his golden from forty to fifty, his iron from fifty to 
 sixty; but if a man in good health would forget his age he 
 will be likely to run far over his seventieth year before he 
 finds his mind or body burdened with years." More men 
 fret out or rust out than wear out, and the surest way to 
 
Beams, Rafters, Cushions, and Servants. 27 
 
 reach ninety years is to find engrossing work which keeps at 
 exercise every faculty of mind and body. " A man may be 
 old at forty, or he may be young at seventy, and there seems 
 to be no surer way of growing old than determining at some 
 set time to quit the active employment to which he has long 
 been accustomed." 
 
 " Nevertheless, from the elaborate tables drawn up by Dr. 
 Farr it would seem there are certain very critical periods in 
 life. A baby, for instance, has but one chance in five of 
 growing up. The period between the tenth and the fifteenth 
 years, exclusively, is that in which the death average is the 
 smallest. At about thirty-five we must begin to take care 
 of ourselves. At this period constitutional changes set in ; 
 our hair and teeth begin to fail us ; our digestion is no longer 
 what it used to be ; we lose the vigor of youth and neglect 
 out-door exercise ; above all, the cares of life begin to make 
 themselves perceptibly felt. It is at this time that deaths 
 from suicide take a marked place in the returns of mortality, 
 and there is also considerable reason to believe that habits of 
 intemperance are apt to suddenly develop themselves. It 
 appears, moreover, that if a man tides over his fiftieth year 
 he may make tolerably certain of living to seventy, while if 
 he reaches his seventy -fifth year there is very strong pre- 
 sumption that he will either turn his • ninetieth birthday or 
 very near it." 
 
 The growth of the human body, like that of a tree, is not 
 the same for all seasons of the year, being greatest in growing 
 children in June, July, and August, as proven by the careful 
 examinations of the children in the Danish deaf and dumb 
 institutes. 
 
 " Each child was weighed four times a day — in the morn- 
 ing, before dinner, after dinner, and in the evening ; and 
 was measured once. These daily records show that, contrary 
 to general opinion, the increase in weight and height of the 
 human body during the years of growth does not progress 
 evenly throughout the year. Three distinct periods were 
 observed, and smaller variations were noticeable within these 
 
28 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 divisions. In bulk, the period of maximum increase extends 
 from August to December. A period of equipoise then suc- 
 ceeds until the middle of April, and the following minimum 
 period completes the year. The lasting increase in weight 
 occurs during the first period ; the period of equipoise adds 
 about one fourth of that increase, but this is almost entirely 
 spent during the last period. 
 
 " The increase in height shows a similar division into peri- 
 ods, but in a reverse order. In September and October a child 
 grows only a fifth of what it did in June and July. Thus in 
 the autumn and early winter a child increases in weight, 
 while the height remains stationary. In the early summer, 
 on the contrary, the weight changes but little, while the vital 
 force and nourishment are directed toward an increase in 
 height." 
 
 There also is a fixed relation between weight and height, 
 as proved by Dr. John Hutchinson, who collected the height 
 and weight of upward of five thousand persons. The follow- 
 ing table, according to his calculation, shows the relation 
 which should exist between height and weight in a healthy 
 person. A man measuring 
 
 5 feet 1 inch should weigh 120 pounds. 
 
 5 feet 2 inches " 125 " 
 
 5 feet 3 inches " 133 " 
 
 6 feet 4 inches " 139 " 
 
 5 feet 5 inches " 142 " 
 
 5 feet 6 inches " 145 " 
 
 5 feet 1 inches " 148 " 
 
 5 feet 8 inches " 155 " 
 
 5 feet 9 inches " 162 " 
 
 5 feet 10 inches " 169 " 
 
 5 feet 11 inches " 174 " 
 
 6 feet " 178 " 
 
 ♦ 
 
 Or we may very much simplify Dr. Hutchinson's table, and 
 say that, as a rule, a man's weight increases at the rate of 
 five pounds for every inch of height, and this rule holds good 
 for all practical purposes. 
 
Beams, Rafters, Cushions, and Servants. 29 
 
 Upon the average, boys at birth weigh a little more, and 
 girls a little less, than six pounds and a half. For the first 
 twelve years the two sexes continue nearly equal in weight, 
 but beyond that time males acquire a decided preponderance. 
 Thus, young men of twenty average about 143 pounds 
 each, while the young women of twenty average 120 pounds. 
 Men reach their heaviest bulk at about thirty-five, when they 
 average about 152 pounds; but women slowly increase in 
 weight until fifty, when their average is about 128 pounds. 
 Taking men and women together, their weight at full growth 
 averages about twenty times as heavy as they were on the 
 first day of their existence. Men range from 108 to 220 
 pounds, and women from 88 to 207 pounds. The actual 
 weight of human nature, taking the averages of ages and 
 conditions— nobles, clergy, tinkers, tailors, maidens, boys, 
 girls, and babies, all included — is very nearly 100 pounds. 
 These figures are given in avoirdupois weight; but the ad- 
 vocates of the superiority of women might make a nice 
 point by introducing the rule that women be weighed 
 by troy weight — like other jewels — and men by avoirdupois. 
 The figures will then stand: young men of twenty, 143 pounds 
 each; young women of twenty, about 146 pounds each. 
 
 According to Huxley, "The normal man's weight is 154 
 pounds, namely : Muscles and their appurtenances, 68 
 pounds ; skeleton, 24 pounds ; skin, 10^ pounds ; fat, 28 
 pounds ; brain, 3 pounds ; thoracic viscera, 3|- pounds; ab- 
 dominal viscera, 10 pounds, and blood which would drain 
 from the body, 7 pounds. The heart of such a man 
 should beat 75 times a minute, and he should breathe 15 
 times in the same space. In 24 hours he would vitiate 
 1,750 cubic feet of air to the extent of one per cent. He 
 would throw off by the skin 18 ounces of water, 300 grajns 
 of solid matter, and 400 grains of carbonic acid gas daily; 
 and his total loss for the same time ought to be 6 pounds 
 of water and a little more than 2 pounds of other 
 matter." 
 
 Each bone of the skeleton is securely wrapped in perios- 
 
30 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 tenm which looks very much like a dense sheet of bluish- 
 white rubber, in which are safely packed the blood-vessels 
 which nourish the bone. As it is peeled off from the bone it 
 is dotted all over its lower surface with red points, which are 
 the bleeding ends of these minute vessels w T hich were torn 
 into as the periosteum was stripped off. 
 
 Bone that has been thus treated dies. And why? Be- 
 cause when its periosteum is taken away you take away its 
 nourishment, and there is nothing left for the bojie except 
 starvation, and to have its corpse pushed out of your body — 
 very likely killing you in the operation; for nature's method 
 for the removal of dead bone is exceedingly slow and ex- 
 hausting; hence the surgeon takes great pains to open as 
 early as possible a felon, lest the matter imprisoned beneath 
 the periosteum cause the death of the bone. Furthermore, 
 it has been found that the periosteum not only furnishes the 
 bone food and clothes at once, but, when required, a glue also, 
 better than Hilton's Insoluble or Spalding's Patent. If you 
 snap a bone, it is the periosteum that helps to glue it togeth- 
 er again, and after it is thus glued the bone is stronger just 
 there than before it was broken. There are, however, sev- 
 eral practical objections to strengthening bones in this way, 
 the chief of which is that the bone is very aj)t to be shorter 
 after the operation, even though the best of doctors has had 
 his fingers in its setting; so that, on the whole, it is better to 
 have weaker bones than to limp. Periosteum ends just be- 
 fore it comes to the joints, and for good reason this is so. In 
 the joint we do not want two rough, elastic substances, full 
 of blood-vessels, grinding against each other every time the 
 joint is moved; so here we find periosteum replaced by what 
 is known as joint cartilage. This somewhat resembles peri- 
 osteum in its general appearance, but is thinner, without 
 blood-vessels, and as smooth as ice. But even these polished 
 surfaces would grow rough, as a creaky hinge does, if they 
 were not kept oiled, so to speak. Perhaps moistened would 
 be a better word, for the surfaces of the large joints are 
 constantly kept slippery with a substance veiy like the white 
 
Beams, Rafters, Cushions, and Servants. 31 
 
 of an egg; in fact, that is just what its name, synovia (from 
 the Greek), means. The joints are kept in running order by 
 means of a broad band which surrounds the joint from peri- 
 osteum to periosteum, from which it gets a plentiful sup- 
 ply of blood; and this fine fringe is kept dripping with syno- 
 via, and the blood-vessels are thus kept out of harm's way. 
 The cartilages are a large, useful, and important part of the 
 body. They are all elastic, tough, and flexible — in a word, 
 " rubbery " would describe their family characteristics. And 
 so, knowing what these are, it may be easily surmised where 
 you will meet with cartilage; for in this house of ours we 
 find the materials are put just where their qualities are most 
 needed. For instance, have you a nose that is fated every 
 now and then to get a most unwelcome blow? A solid 
 bone nose could have been made more ornamental, but it 
 would certainly have been cracked or knocked off every time 
 we fell on our faces. Nature knew very well what she was 
 about when she made the lower end of the nose of cartilage, 
 so that we have, as it were, a rubber nose tacked on the end 
 of a Socratic bone one; and now this nose of ours can be 
 bent and tweaked and banged to a considerable degree with- 
 out injury. 
 
 Some one thinks he has discovered that all noses are bent 
 to one side or the other, according as we are right or left- 
 handed. This man must be a Yankee; for, arguing that if 
 the continued use of a soft handkerchief can so twist the 
 nose why should not an iron instrument do so still more, he 
 therefore has invented an instrument to correct unhandsome 
 noses. Every one, therefore, who has a nose "like flower 
 atilt " — which is the Tennysonian for pug — or crooked nose, 
 or flat, and would have an aquiline, etc., may purchase one of 
 this man's machines and have his nose grow into the desired 
 shape, provided he is willing to wear one of the machines 
 daily as long as it can be endured. A long nose is said to 
 denote, power, merit, and ability; a straight nose justice, 
 ■erionsnesg, and energy; a Roman nose a propensity for ad- 
 venture. A cleft nose is a mark of benevolence; a wide one, 
 
32 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 with an open nostril, of sensuality; a curved fleshy nose 
 of domination and cruelty, and the curved thin nose 
 accompanies a brilliant mind, but vain, and disposed to be 
 ironical. At least so claims the author of La Science en 
 Famille, but more likely our noses betoken the characters of 
 our grandfathers than our own; if they have any value at all 
 in that direction. 
 
 But to return to cartilages: some of which are bluish white, 
 others are clear or glassy, while in another there are white 
 or yellow fibers; but they are all cartilages. 
 
 Of all cartilages, " glassy " or hyaline is the most interest- 
 ing. It might be well named " baby bone," for bones begin 
 as cartilage. Strictly speaking, a baby has no bones, only 
 soft, gristly cartilages; so that the blessed baby can give itself 
 with safety many a bump that would put its grandmother to 
 bed with broken bones. Nature quietly works away at these 
 cartilages for twenty years and more, and if you will let her 
 she will make a set of bones of which you may be proud. 
 You must not work against her, nor hurry her, for during all 
 this time your bones are more or less flexible, and will bend 
 under continued pressure. For instance, a fond mother is 
 very anxious that her baby should walk; his little limbs are 
 not strong enough to support him, and very soon his knees 
 bend out, his toes turn in, and a bow-legged son will be the 
 price the mother must pay for her foolish ambition. The 
 Chinese make hideous little dwarfs for beggars by putting 
 their children, when about three or four years of age, into a 
 large porcelain vase, from which they are only removed at 
 night and returned at morning, until they break the jar by 
 their size. The child's sufferings are as horrible as they 
 are while forming the useless and hideous feet of the 
 Chinese ladies, which are made by binding the heel of the 
 foot while small against the ankle, so that the child practi- 
 cally stands on its toes. This is continued until the foot 
 atrophies in this shape and the Chinese lady is left a totter- 
 ing cripple, perched on the tops of her great toes. This is 
 possible because the bones are first laid down as glassy car- 
 
Beams, Rafters, Cushions, and Servants. 33 
 
 tilages which can be altered by pressure. Nature takes 
 her time in changing this into bone. If the work were 
 all done during the first few weeks of babyhood, we should 
 live either as dwarfs, or with bones so small that they would 
 be lost in the muscles. But Nature can afford to wait long 
 enough to properly subdivide her work. For instance, she 
 proportions out the sacrum, or lower part of the backbone 
 into no less than thirty-five sections, and wisely, for as yet 
 she does not know what we are to be, so leaves these provi- 
 sional bits of cartilage to be transformed into such bones 
 as required. The time comes when rubbery cartilage will no 
 longer do us for bone, and having proportioned out the work 
 it goes on somewhat as follows. The microscope shows us 
 that those cells which are nearest the first point of ossifica- 
 tion, or the spot selected for beginning the bone-making, 
 begin to be disturbed, and their nuclei (germinal matter) 
 have each an internal war which results in the cell splitting 
 into halves, which crowd toward the first point. But 
 these halves do not get there before they have another seces- 
 sion, and split again. And so these cells keep splitting, until 
 that part of cartilage which is selected for making true bone 
 is packed full of these split cells. The minute blood-vessels 
 which have worked their way up among these cells begin to 
 protect themselves by straining out through their walls a 
 soft chalky substance, which fills up these cells every -where, 
 except at the nuclei, which say, " thus far and no farther." 
 Thus the original flexible cartilage becomes stiffened by 
 the deposition of lime-salts about its points of germinal matter, 
 or osteoblasts, as they are called in bone cartilage, until at last 
 man possesses a perfectly formed bony skeleton, unless he 
 has distorted it by carelessness or abuse. 
 
 The skeleton is essentially an irregular conical cage, with the 
 lower part of its front gone, and at its bottom a shallow basin 
 (the pelvis). Attached to the top of this cage is the neck and 
 skull; to its sides the limbs, upper and lower, with their long 
 bones, short bones, and irregular. The long bones consist of 
 a hollow shaft whose ends broaden out into flat, articulating 
 2* 
 
34 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 surfaces, which contain within them what is known as latticed 
 bone (cancellated), a sort of spongy bone which is found 
 wherever large surfaces of bone and lightness are required 
 at the same time. A cross section of this latticed bone 
 looks as if it were composed of a multitude of tiny bone 
 needles thrown together, like jack-straws, by the merest 
 chance. But nothing has been done after that fashion in 
 this house of ours, not even this apparently accidental 
 net- work of bone needles, for, says Dr. Jeffries Wyman, an 
 excellent authority on this subject, the fibers of cancellated 
 bone are " so skillfully braced that they alone would be suffi- 
 cient to prove that man naturally assumes an upright position." 
 Standing upright is not as simple a thing as it seems. It 
 would be quite impossible in a boneless body, or in one 
 where the bones are softened, as they sometimes become in a 
 
 rare disease, when 
 the whole body 
 becomes a help- 
 less mass of pow- 
 erless muscles. 
 Even when not 
 diseased the long 
 bones would be- 
 come twisted by 
 the traction of 
 the muscles at- 
 tached to them, 
 unless their ends 
 were braced and 
 strengthened in the way described. The shafts of the long 
 bones are even stronger, for although in their structure 
 they at first seem to have but little resemblance to lattice 
 bone, yet under the microscope it can be shown that dense 
 ivory-like bone (eburnated) and spongy latticed bone are 
 really one and the same thing except in the relative compact- 
 ness of their fibers; for it is only necessary to crowd those of 
 spongy bone close enough together to convert the latticed 
 
 Bone section showing lamellae and Haversian canals. 
 
Beams, Rafters, Cushions, and Servants. 35 
 
 bone into the compactest kind of bone tissue, such as is found 
 in the shafts of the long bones. Even the densest sort of 
 bones show under the microscope minute openings (Haver- 
 sian canals), into which the capillary or hair-like blood-vessels 
 pass to nourish the bones. Around these are placed concentric 
 circles (lamellae) or layers of bone well shown in the previous 
 cut. In fact, the microscopic appearance of bone may be com- 
 pared to a bundle of lead-pencils, their interspaces correspond- 
 ing to the lacunae and canaliculi; for a higher power microscope 
 shows, in addition to the Haversian canals, between the lam- 
 ellae (a) minute black lines (canaliculi), connecting irregular 
 dark spots (lacunae), looking not unlike crushed insects. These 
 lakes and connecting canals, for such they are, constitute the 
 lymphatic system of the bones, allowing from their great num- 
 ber the permeation of the entire bony system with nutrient 
 lymph. Chinese ingenuity has never yet designed as intricate 
 and efficient a system of irrigation as that which can be dis- 
 covered in any old bone ; for not only those of the human body, 
 but the bones of all animals, are similarly provided. The open- 
 ings in the bones of birds are longer and narrower than those of 
 mammals, and the canaliculi remarkably tortuous. In the bones 
 of fishes the lacunae are long and narrow, and in reptiles angular 
 and with few canaliculi. Hence it is that the geologist can tell 
 from a sliver of fossil bone whether it formerly belonged to 
 beast, bird, fish, or one of the huge lizards which once roamed 
 this earth, for, curiously enough, the bones of an immense 
 iguanadon and a tiny lizard of to-day have exactly the same 
 markings. 
 
 Lacunae and canaliculi are, so to speak, the water-marks 
 which enable the expert microscopist to identify with cer- 
 tainty the variety of animal from which a given piece of 
 bone has come. , 
 
 Science plays sad havoc with many a tradition, and one of 
 these thus rudely treated is that of the bones of the eleven 
 thousand virgins at Cologne. The legend says they are those 
 of Saint Ursula's maidens, but the anatomist looks at them 
 through his microscope and unhesitatingly declares that they 
 
36 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 are largely not human bones at all, but those of the lower 
 animals, even chicken bones being found among them. 
 
 As has already been said, these bone-lakes and canals 
 
 freely communicate with the 
 lymphatic vessels of the 
 marrow and those of the 
 Haversian canals. The lakes, 
 or spider-like lacunae, are 
 the original resting-places 
 of the germinal matter 
 (bone - cells), already de- 
 scribed as being found in 
 Section of bone showing canaiicuii and bone-making cartilage. These 
 lacunae. bone-cells, when recent, pos- 
 
 sess arms, or branches, which extend out into tiny canals 
 communicating with it. As the bone-cells grow older these 
 branches shrivel up and leave the canaiicuii open for the 
 transmission of lymph. 
 
 All of our bones are chemically alike in that they are com- 
 posed of a gelatinous (organic) and an earthy (inorganic) 
 part. In human bones, one third part is gelatinous and the 
 remainder earthy. The organic part of bone is what gives 
 it elasticity, while the earthy part is added to furnish requi- 
 site hardness and strength. The earthy salts can be entirely 
 removed from a bone by soaking it in a dilute acid several 
 days, which converts the hardest bone into a gristly, flexible 
 substance, which is elastic enough to permit its being tied 
 into a knot. This is the part of the bone which furnishes 
 soup and jellies for the thrifty housewife, and is so perma- 
 nent under favorable circumstances that Dean Buckland is 
 said to have entertained a dinner party with a soup made 
 from the bones of an extinct mastodon. To what base ends 
 may we come at last ! 
 
 " Imperial Caesar, dead and turned to clay, 
 Might stop a hole to keep the cold away." 
 
 And less imperial we may have our poor skeletons boiled 
 down to make glue, or ground to powder to convert their 
 
Beams, Rafters, Cushions, and Servants. 37 
 
 earthy phosphates into fertilizers, for chemistry acts the ogre 
 in Jack the Giant-Killer, whose threat to grind an English- 
 man's bones to make his bread is fulfilled in the modern 
 fertilizer factoiy, where bones of every description are pul- 
 verized to scatter over the wheat-fields. 
 
 For convenience in study, the bones of the body are usually 
 divided into four classes; namely, long bones, short bones, 
 flat bones, and irregular bones, each admirably adapted for 
 its special work ; for example, the long bones of the arms 
 and legs are levers designed for lifting and propelling the 
 body. They are made hollow, for the reason that in this 
 way is obtained the maximum amount of strength with the 
 minimum quantity of material. Columns support weights 
 directly in proportion to their diameter, and inversely to 
 their height. Hence the heaviest bodies should have the 
 shortest legs, and vice versa. As a rule we find this true. 
 The balancing of the body upon the feet is no easy task, as 
 every young child learns at the cost of many a hard bump. 
 Standing is made the more difficult by the fact that the 
 lower limbs, like the pig immortalized in nursery rhyme, are 
 double-jointed — yes, and treble, for there are joints at the 
 thighs, knees, and ankles. For running and jumping, this 
 jointing of the leg is invaluable, but it adds greatly to 
 the difficulty of keeping the body upright. This can only 
 be done by the antagonizing of various groups of muscles, 
 one set of which acting alone will pull the body over on 
 the face ; another will pull it on the back, others sideways; 
 but when all of these muscles act together, the body is held 
 upright, balanced exactly right. How difficult this is can 
 easily be ascertained by trying to make a skeleton stand up- 
 right, or even a rigid corpse, as one frozen by cold. Walk- 
 ing, simple as it appears to us from constant practice, is even 
 more difficult than standing. Learning to walk a tight rope, 
 for an adult, is no more difficult a task than a child's first 
 attempts at walking. No less than sixty-two bones are more 
 or less necessary for the act, for the loss of any one of the 
 bones of the legs or feet seriously cripples the process of 
 
38 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 alternately falling and catching one's self just in time, which 
 constitutes walking. To walk we must first stand, and 
 standing requires that the center of gravity must fall inside 
 of the feet, for which no less than eight sets of muscles are 
 required to hold the body thus perpendicular in equilibrium. 
 The slightest step disarranges this nice adjustment of antag- 
 onizing muscles, and the body would fall all in a heap if it 
 were not that we have learned just when to catch ourselves 
 before we fall, and in so doing we find ourselves a step in 
 advance. 
 
 If we look at the process a little more in detail, we shall 
 find that taking even a couple of steps is not a simple mat- 
 ter, for it requires, first, lifting the right foot the fraction of 
 an inch from the floor; but even this little involves turning 
 the body slightly on the left ankle, as a pivot, and balancing 
 the body over the left foot. Now as the right foot is 
 brought forward the body must be kept constantly bending 
 forward, so as to keep it in equilibrium over the left foot, which 
 is now the only pedestal. We cannot, however, keep on 
 bending, for erelong we should fall on our faces; so just at 
 the moment when the step would change into a fall — which 
 only means the center of gravity gets outside of the sup- 
 porting foot — down comes the toe of the right foot to the 
 ground to act as a support. As the right foot goes down 
 the left heel comes up, for the incipient fall was just bring- 
 ing that left foot up from terra firma. For a second we are 
 an equilateral triangle; but heel and toe are unsteady sup- 
 ports, so the body transfers its weight to the left foot entire- 
 ly as the latter comes down squarely to the ground, and once 
 more we are one-footed. As the left is brought to place, the 
 body swings slightly to the right over the right ankle, back 
 again until we are nearly upright, and now the left foot goes 
 forward and the whole process is reversed. So that walking, 
 simple as it seems, is really a most complex series of fallings, 
 balancings, rolling from side to side, and alternately growing 
 taller or shorter as we make ourselves into isosceles triangles 
 or rectangles. It is a curious study, not only theoretically, 
 
Beams, Rafters, Cushions, and Servants. 39 
 
 but practically; for, unlike many other things, the theory of 
 walking is quite intricate, but the practice, provided you 
 give your feet a fair chance, ought to be as easy as the 
 swinging of a pendulum to and fro. Walking is capital ex- 
 ercise, but it is hard work as well; and when practiced on 
 French heels, placed near the middle of the foot, is almost 
 as difficult and tiresome as walking on stilts. The French 
 heel is an anatomical abomination, and utterly useless for 
 walking. The only shoe fit for this purpose is one with a 
 broad, low heel and a thick sole broader than the foot. 
 With such shoes, and with suitable clothing, walking is with- 
 in the reach of every one's purse. Even a fashionable lady 
 can profit much from her shopping if she will act upon the 
 rule of using the elevator in going up-stairs and walking 
 down; for walking up-stairs is hard work, and sometimes 
 dangerous for those with damaged heart or lungs; going 
 down-stairs hurts no one. " It shakes up the anatomy, with- 
 out incurring the danger of physical overexertion. This 
 shaking up is good for one's internal mechanism, which it 
 accelerates, especially the liver, the kidneys, and the blood 
 circulation." 
 
 Walking tied up in corsets is harder work than climbing 
 up-stairs without them, for, as may be seen from the annexed 
 cut, if the lower parts of the chest are allowed a chance for 
 free expansion they afford ample space for breathing; but if 
 tied down by a tight corset they have, as the Chinese say, 
 " God's life " squeezed out of them. Of the two the Chinese 
 small feet are the more sensible deformity, for they inflict no 
 serious injury upon health. Argument, anatomy, and com- 
 mon sense combined seem powerless against Queen Elizabeth's 
 girdle of buckram, the source of more female woes unnum- 
 bered than the wrath of Achilles. "It's the fashion to wear 
 'em," is the invariable answer to all objections urged against 
 corsets, but why, if the corset, as is claimed, is worn for sup- 
 port, is not man better entitled to it than woman ? We have 
 it on good authority that Adam early in his existence lost a 
 rib, and his boys may reasonably be supposed to have inner- 
 
40 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 ited their father's deficiencies; although it is not true, as 
 many Sunday-school children are taught to believe, that 
 
 Diagram of the Relations of the Thoracic viscera to the Walls of the 
 
 Chest. (Bellamy.) 
 
 I. Situation of pulmonary orifice. 2. Left auriculo-ventricular orifice. 3. Orifice 
 of aorta. 4. Right auriculo-ventricular orifice. 5. Limit of the anterior and inferior 
 border of left lung in complete expiration. 6. Ditto of right lung. 7. Limit of left 
 lung in inspiration. 8. Ditto of right lung in inspiration. 9. Limit of pleura. 
 10. Ditto. 11. Superior cul-de-sac of left lung. 12. Ditto of right lung. 13. Right 
 auricle. 14. Right auricular appendage. 15. Left auricle. 16. Limit of diaphragm 
 in complete expiration. 17. Ditto* ditto. 18. Ditto, ditto, in complete inspiration. 
 
 men are short one rib on the side from which Eve was taken. 
 All have twelve ribs on each side — seven attached to the 
 breast-bone and five free or floating ribs. These with the 
 backbone, breast, and collar bones make the cage especially 
 designed for protecting the lungs and vital parts within. 
 Nature knew just how she wanted those parts protected; but 
 fashion comes along and would remodel nature's work ac- 
 cording to its own idea. But why should not a woman have 
 as good a chance to breathe as a man ? 
 
 A backbone is a most important thing for the body. This 
 
Beams, Rafteks, Cushions, and Servants. 41 
 
 " spine of tha back," as Widow Bedott called it, has been the 
 wonder of the anatomists of all ages. It might have been 
 made a single straight bone ; bnt oh ! 
 what a stiff-necked generation it would 
 have left us. Infinite wisdom has 
 fastened together thirty-three little -ft"V 
 bespangled bits of bone, called verte- 
 brae, which are really a series of little 
 levers, closely fitting one to another, 
 firm, strong, and flexible, inclosing in 
 their midst the spinal cord. The spi- 
 nal column is really a spring with 
 four curves, which break the force of 
 every jump or sudden movement 
 which otherwise would shake the soft 
 brains to pulp against the bony skull, p^.. 
 These curves in the back-bone are ^ 
 mainly due to little cushions of carti- 
 lage placed between the vertebrae. 
 These cushions are called interverte- 
 bral disks, and are really bags of car- 
 tilage containing fluid, something as 
 if each vertebra was guarded from 
 shock by having a tiny water-pillow 
 placed between it and its neighbor. 
 A man is about a quarter of an inch 
 shorter at night than in the morning. 
 
 The reason for this is, that these little A -' a diagrammatic section 
 -,.,,.,, v . , -of the human body taken verti- 
 
 disks shrink by continued pressure of C aiiy through the median plane. 
 
 the day and expand after a night's c.s., the cerebrospinal nervous 
 
 r* ,. t , system; N, the cavity of the 
 
 rest. Continued unequal pressure may nose . Mt that of the mouth; 
 
 tilt the Spine to One side or the Other Al. AL, the alimentary canal 
 i .I ,i • i • ,i • • /» represented as a simple straight 
 
 by the thickening or thinning of one tu J )e; ^ the heart ;D, the dia- 
 side of these intervertebral disks, thus pbragm; Sty, the sympathetic 
 producing curvature of the spine; and &w&*»-Huxiey. 
 one of the ways in which this is done is by the unlady-like 
 trick of sitting upon one foot. It is too bony to make a 
 
42 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 good cushion, and is responsible for not a few crooked spines, 
 as may be seen by closely watching any large audience. 
 There are rickety houses, and so there are rickety children, 
 or those whose bones are so soft that the body is bent all out 
 of shape. Later in life these twisted bones harden, as all 
 bones do with advancing age, and the result is that the body 
 becomes permanently twisted and deformed. Again, this 
 may happen from increased fragility of the bones, which may 
 be so great as to lead to fracture from the slightest violence. 
 A slight degree of this is found in all old persons. 
 
 The boys on the streets call their heads "cocoa-nuts;" 
 and this idea of the skull being a shell is as old as the early 
 Danes, who called it " hierneskall " (brain shell). The skull 
 is really an oval box made of eight bones, neatly dove-tailed 
 together. This box shows in a beautiful manner the exqui- 
 site care that has been taken to guard from all harm what 
 brains have been allotted us. Architects tell us that the 
 arch of the skull — three arches, in fact, for the bones have each 
 three layers — is so put together that it will resist the greatest 
 amount of pressure with the smallest weight of materials; 
 and it is wonderful how hard a blow can be received on the 
 head without any serious injury following. Its cushions of 
 hair and movable scalp add in no slight degree to the protec- 
 tion of the brain, so that it is rare that any ordinary blow 
 brings us more than a bump; and if this bump is in the right 
 place, according to phrenology, it will be a blessing. Science, 
 however, has as yet only awarded to phrenology the Scotch 
 verdict, " not proven." While it may be true that different 
 functions are committed to different parts of the brain, and 
 that one can often tell something of a man's character and 
 way of living from the general shape of his head, yet it is in 
 nowise proven that every fractional inch of protuberance 
 betokens some corresponding faculty. In fact, we know that 
 most of these skull markings go no deeper than the surface 
 of the bone. 
 
 There is much that we could find to interest us in this brain 
 cup, for it is full of markings made by vessels and membranes; 
 
Beams, Rafters, Cushions, and Servants. 43 
 
 besides, there are passages many and various by which 
 the nerves find exit, all showing the same watchful care. 
 More attractive is the face, composed of fourteen of 
 •the crookedest bones in the body. In regard to its care it 
 is scarcely necessary to say more than that it is not wise 
 to attempt to retouch nature's painting. " Pearl Powder," 
 said a philosopher, "is made of nothing but dirt, and 
 rubbing such stuff upon the beautiful skin of a young lady 
 is a dirty practice." The neck proper in all mammals, ex- 
 cept two, consists of seven vertebrae, the upper of which is 
 a pivot on which the head is hung, like that of a toy manda- 
 rin, whose head keeps bobbing with the slightest movement. 
 And so would and does ours when we get too old to properly 
 use our muscles ; but ordinarily they keep the head accu- 
 rately balanced on top of this pillar, on which it is hung on a 
 swivel joint and a pair of rockers. In the neck are contained 
 some of the most vital parts of the body. On the front of 
 the neck are many large blood-vessels and the windpipe. 
 When we look at their protection compared to that of the 
 brain it seems very inadequate ; but at approaching danger 
 the head is instinctively drawn down, and these parts, thus 
 protected, as are a turtle's when he withdraws into his shell. 
 The bones which would first attract your attention on the 
 back are the scapulae, or shoulder-blades, which are chiefly 
 placed there for sockets for the arms. They have been fre- 
 quently compared to sprouting wings, but our arms and not 
 our shoulder-blades are our nearest approach to wings, and 
 they are not a success in that line. Some one who had plenty 
 of time has made a calculation proving that, even if a man had 
 wings in like proportion to those of a bird, yet his body is so 
 heavy that all the power which he could exert in a whole 
 day would only suffice to hold him up in the air for five 
 minutes. It is a discouraging prospect for all soaring Darius 
 Greens, but they should console themselves with the thought 
 that, though their wings are still rudimentary, their arms are 
 far more wonderful. It takes thirty bones to form each of 
 these instruments, which hang so lightly in the cups of the 
 
4-i Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 shoulder-blades ; but all the patent offices in the world con- 
 tain no model of any thing that could fill their places. The 
 plan according to which our arms have been made is the 
 same as that for all vertebrates; that is, we may say the arm 
 is made up of five sections: (a) upper arm, (b) fore arm, (c) 
 wrist, (d) palm, (e) finger; and the wing of a bird, the fore leg 
 of a stag, and even the flipper of a whale are essentially arms. 
 
 If we went on all fours, probably we should walk on 
 the palms of our hands, as do bears. As all arms may be 
 considered to be made up of analogous five sections, you 
 have only to count the joints to find that the stag runs on 
 the tips of his first and second fingers, while the horse has 
 only a stiff middle finger left on which to prance. So that 
 Avhile all vertebrates have in a certain sense arms, it is 
 also true that their hoofs and paws are a very poor substi- 
 tute for hands. Our Darwinian grandfathers come the 
 nearest to having a human hand, but it has only a poor 
 apology for a thumb. 
 
 As we pass down, we find the lower limbs, which hang 
 droopingly from little hollows in that great dish of bone 
 which, from resemblance to an old fashioned barber's basin, 
 has been named the pelvis. This pelvis is a sort of a 
 saddle in which we ride through the world, carried 
 hither and thither by our trusty bearers, the legs. The 
 cantle of this saddle is the "cuckoo-bone," which the 
 learned Jewish rabbins declared was the indestructible part of 
 the body. " Pound it," they said, " with heavy hammers on 
 anvils, soak it for centuries in the strongest solvents, burn it 
 for ages in the fiercest furnaces, it is all in vain — its magic 
 structure will remain." To these wild imaginings Paul re- 
 plied, " Thou fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened 
 except it die," and to us the coccyx has become about as un- 
 important a bone as there is in the body. 
 
 Leaving then the bony system by the coccyx, or its extremity, 
 let us turn our attention to our servants, the muscles, by which 
 we are enabled to use our bony levers and joints. A muscle 
 literally means a little mouse, but what the resemblance is 
 
Beams, Rafters, Cushions, and Servants. 45 
 
 would be hard to tell, unless it was supposed that the con- 
 traction of a muscle resembled a mouse running beneath the 
 skin. Generally, a muscle is thought of as a hideous com- 
 pound of boiled beef and anatomical plates of skinned men; 
 but a muscle is really more dainty and curious than a Swiss 
 watch. 
 
 Turning over the plates of an anatomy, it seems hard to 
 believe this, for they seem like the contents of that human 
 butcher-shop over which we shuddered in the Arabian 
 Nights. There are spread out before us long muscles and 
 short muscles, flat and square, penniform and bipenniform, 
 this one a bag, that one a ring ; now as long as the tailor's 
 muscle, and again like those of the ear, only a hair's breadth. 
 They are a more motley company than Falstaff's own, and their 
 names are worse. Some are named from their form; as the 
 square muscle, the D shaped muscle, the two-headed, the three- 
 headed, the saw muscle, etc.; others are named from their 
 location, as the greater and lesser chest muscles, the temporal, 
 etc. Again, they are named according to the ground they 
 traverse, as the omo-hyoid, the chest, neck, and ear muscles ; 
 another anatomist decides that he will name them from 
 the work they do, and we have consequently flexors, ex- 
 tensors, adductors, pronators, and supinators; and last of 
 all comes some genius who has named them from some 
 fancied resemblance or use, which last are the worst of 
 all to remember. There are five hundred and twenty-seven 
 muscles in all, two hundred and sixty-one in pairs, and five 
 single ones. 
 
 There is one most important division of muscles which should 
 be remembered; namely, voluntary and involuntary muscles, 
 or those which act under the control of our will and those 
 beyond it. It is a blessed thing for us that we have these 
 involuntary muscles; for we must sometimes sleep, and the 
 heart, lungs, and all the functions of animal life must be 
 kept at work, or we should never see the morning. They 
 are tireless, uncomplaining, patient workers. To be sure, the 
 involuntary muscles do not directly write books, solve prob- 
 
46 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 lems, paint pictures, build cathedrals, nor fire the Ephesian 
 dome, but they keep the soul's home swept and garnished. 
 It is a grand thing to do one's work well, no matter how 
 humble it may be; indeed, we may find, in the last great day, 
 that it is grander as the work grows humbler. So it may be 
 that these despised muscles, which have " no sphere," are 
 more to be admired than the haughtiest muscle that ever 
 wagged the tongue. 
 
 All muscles are covered with a fascia, or bandage, of 
 cellular tissue. If you have ever noticed corned beef, you 
 must have seen how the muscle breaks up into bundles on 
 boiling; and these bundles of fibers can be separated into 
 separate fibers with careful dissection. If a microscope has 
 not been used you have probably not observed it, but the 
 fibers and bundles are each swathed in a bandage similar to 
 that which holds the muscle itself. Now put one of these 
 fibers under the microscope, and you will see that its covering 
 is a transparent, elastic, membranous bag filled with a com- 
 pact substance, which is striated or banded with alternate 
 dark and light disks, through which are scattered cell nuclei, 
 or germinal matter. In the voluntary muscles we find 
 there is on the outside the fascia, which incloses in a common 
 bandage bundles of fibers; then each bundle of fibers has its 
 particular covering; and, lastly, we find each fiber is made 
 
 up of contractible disks shut up 
 in a common bandage. These ul- 
 timate voluntary, muscular fibers 
 might be compared to a pile of 
 black and white checkers shut up 
 in a transparent, old-fashioned 
 long purse. That conrparison is, 
 however, not quite exact, for we find by a higher power 
 these disks are shown to be made of still smaller fibers 
 running parallel to the sheath, as if the checkers were made 
 of a fibrous wood. 
 
 The involuntary muscles differ from the voluntary in that 
 they are not banded or striated, have no fibrillse, and their 
 
 Striped muscular fibers and sheath 
 — Klein. 
 
 || 
 
Beams, Raftees, Cushions, and Seevants. 47 
 
 fibers have no covering, but are made up of long bands, each 
 containing a rod-like bit of germinal matter. This is the 
 last of the body to die, for Dr. Brown-Sequard, the French 
 physiologist, nas demonstrated that, for several days after 
 death, during the rigid condition which immediately fol- 
 low the cessation of life, the muscles of an animal undergo 
 slow, alternate contractions and elongations; and he reaches 
 the startling conclusion that the muscles in rigor mortis are 
 not dead, but are still endowed with vital powers, being, 
 however, in a certain chemical condition which is antecedent 
 and preparatory to final death. 
 
 If the muscles did nothing but protect the vital parts 
 and give form and beauty to the house in which we 
 live, they might be compared to the bricks of an ordinary 
 building, but they do far more than that. They both protect 
 us and make us shapely, and are the "sine qua nons of all 
 motion." Perhaps it would not be straining a simile to liken 
 them to a company of waiting servants. Here they stand 
 idle until the word comes telegraphed down the nerve, " Move 
 this, or that." Take your forearm, for instance. You wish 
 to bring your hand up to the body. The telegraphic office 
 in the brain sends word to that group of servants we call the 
 biceps muscle, "Bring up that forearm." No sooner is it 
 received than each fiber recognizes the command, and, gath- 
 ering itself together, pulls with might and main; and, as all 
 the other fibers do the same, the whole muscle contracts or 
 becomes shorter. Consequently, either the forearm must be 
 raised or something will give way, as not infrequently hap- 
 pens in too violent exercise, when, for reason, the arm is 
 restricted in its action, as in throwing a base-ball. The 
 natural result of the contraction of the individual fibers of 
 the muscles is either to drag the shoulder down to the arm, 
 or the arm must come toward it or break. To prevent this 
 breaking there is fortunately provided a hinge-joint at the 
 elbow which allows the forearm to turn on it like a door on 
 its hinges; so, instead of a crash, up comes the hand in much 
 less time than it has taken to describe it. 
 
48 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 The work of all the muscles is in its last analysis simply 
 moving something, and in fact all the work done in this 
 busy work-a-day world essentially consists of that. This 
 something moved by the muscle may be either bone, muscle, 
 cartilage, or ligament, but wherever a muscle is found there 
 is a certainty that it has been placed where it is to do lifting 
 of some kind or other by contraction of its muscular fibers. 
 This contraction may come on involuntarily, and then it is 
 said the muscle has a cramp, as many a boy has found to his 
 cost when he has remained for too long a time in the cold 
 water. The danger in such cases arises from the fact that a 
 muscle thus involuntarily contracted loses its power of relax- 
 ing itself when we wish. A succession of these cramps, at- 
 tended with unconsciousness, constitutes what is ordinarily 
 known as a fit, or fits. There is hardly a more distressing 
 sight that ever comes to the physician's notice than an attack 
 of this description, where, apparently, every muscle in the 
 body is convulsed and their hapless owner thrown hither and 
 thither without power to control his motions. If conscious- 
 ness is entirely lost we call such an attack a convulsion ; if, 
 however, consciousness is preserved, and an involuntary action 
 of the muscles occurs, the disease is known as Saint Vitus's 
 dance, from the saint who was supposed to have power over 
 these gyrations. 
 
 The muscles are our servants, and better ones than most 
 houses are blessed with. The servant question is one of the 
 most perplexing of our modern civilization, but it is not one 
 which vexes the house in which we live, for its servants differ 
 widely from the ordinary domestic. These muscles of ours 
 never insist on having every other afternoon and half day 
 every Sunday. They have no innumerable flock of cousins to 
 drop in at meal-time, they are never impudent, never take ad- 
 vantage of your necessities and give notice to quit because 
 asked to perform a little unexpected work. On the contrary, 
 they are willing and anxious to work, and ask in return only 
 food, clothing, and training. The best of servants need this, 
 and the muscles are no exception to the rule. Watch a baby 
 
 *t 
 
Beams, Rafters, Cushions, and Servants. 40 
 
 giving its muscles their first instruction, and see how greatly 
 they need such teaching, for the first effort of a young babe 
 to put its linger into his mouth often eventuates in damage 
 to its eye; but in no other way than by practice can muscles 
 be educated for their seventy or eighty years of service. 
 
 A curious as well as interesting series of experiments, made 
 in Fiance, shows approximately that the heaviest load a man 
 of strength can carry for a short distance is 319 pounds; all 
 a man can carry habitually, as, for example, a soldier his 
 knapsack, walking on level ground, is 132 pounds — an ex- 
 treme load, it would seem — or he can carry an aggregate of 
 1,518 pounds over 3,200 feet as a day's work, under like cir- 
 cumstances. If he ascend ladders or stairs, as do hod-car- 
 riers, then he can carry but 121 pounds continuously, and his 
 day's work cannot exceed 1,232 pounds raised 3,200 feet high. 
 With regard to the effort and the velocity which a man 
 can produce by pulling or pushing with his arms, it has 
 been found by these experiments that, under the most favor- 
 able circumstances, and for continuous work, an effect can- 
 not be gained exceeding from 26.4 to 33 pounds raised from 
 1.8 to 2.1 feet per second, or about one eighth horse-power. 
 
 Climbing up stairs in all probability is a more difficult 
 feat for a young child than the contortionist's feats for an 
 adult, but once learned it becomes almost as easy as breathing. 
 Herein is the value of education, for there is hardly any thing 
 that these muscles cannot be taught if sufficient time is given 
 to their education. Drawing, painting, music and sculpt- 
 ure all owe their possibility to the infinitesimal contractions of 
 the tiny checkers of flesh figured on page 40. So varied are 
 the accomplishments of well trained muscles that many claim 
 there is a sixth, or a muscular, sense which enables man to walk, 
 estimate weight, and do a score of things which require other 
 aid than simple touch. Many of these wonderful feats are per- 
 formed, by constant practice, at last almost automatically. This 
 la largely true of the work of the musician, knitter, ami teleg- 
 rapher, for practice makes possible such difficult things that 
 one i» Inclined t<> Bay that nothing is impossible to the really 
 
50 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 determined man. Matching Scotch plaids by a blind man would 
 seem to be very near a physical impossibility, and yet there is 
 well authenticated proof of a canny blind tailor doing this so 
 well as to become very successful in his business. Hardly less 
 wonderful are the India ink drawings made with a brush held 
 in the mouth of a helpless cripple of Boston. One of the 
 famous French painters had no arms, and did all of his work 
 with a brush held between his toes; and there was, until 
 recently, if not at present, a member of the English Parlia- 
 ment without arms or legs, and yet this trunk of a man was 
 so efficient that it was re-elected repeatedly to a seat in the 
 House of Commons. 
 
 A willing servant may be overworked, and this sometimes 
 occurs with the muscles, as happened frequently on some of 
 the fearful marches of Napoleon's army, where the soldiers 
 often would drop dead from sheer exhaustion. Such cases, 
 however, are rare, for the protest of a jaded muscle is usually 
 too emphatic to be disregarded, as can readily be tested by try- 
 ing to hold the arm out horizontally for only ten minutes. 
 If there has been no previous practice, it will prove the 
 hardest bit of work you have attempted in many a day, for 
 the complaint of the overtasked muscular libers is so vehe- 
 ment that, unless there is a most determined will, long before 
 the ten minutes are up the arm drops back to an easier posture. 
 If, on the other hand, the protest is persistently disregarded, 
 the muscle at length loses its power of contraction and re- 
 laxation, and it becomes impossible at last to move the rigid 
 muscles. Thus the limbs of East Indian fakirs become at 
 last permanently fixed when, in compliance with some vow, 
 they are long enough held in a single position. 
 
 Simple inaction, then, may atrophy a muscle, or cause it to 
 Avaste until it is unable to perform its duties. Just what the 
 change is that takes place within the muscular sheath we can- 
 not describe, but the fact remains that an unused muscle is 
 a dying one. In the realm of the body, as in spiritual mat- 
 ters, the hath nots lose even that which they have, and phys- 
 ical and moral skeletons are the inevitable results. 
 
Beams, Rafters, Cushions, and Servants. 51 
 
 Manual labor is irksome both from nature and habit, but 
 the law of the house in which we live is that in no other 
 way can its health be preserved. The contraction of each 
 tiny fibril is absolutely necessary for its cleansing from effete 
 material. Otherwise the House Beautiful grows dusty and 
 filthy in the hidden corners, until its occupant is poisoned by 
 his own fault. As we shall learn in the chapter on sewerage, 
 these effete substances have been at last properly studied, but 
 their headaches, lassitude, and general malaise have been 
 known since the day when bounteous harvests and man's 
 natural sloth first gave him the opportunity to take his 
 ease to his own hurt. Exercise is as essential to good 
 health as are sweeping and dusting to good housekeeping. 
 Furthermore, inaction leads to a substitution of fat instead 
 of muscle. A certain quantity of fat is needed both for pro- 
 tection and ornament. It rounds out the angles and arms of 
 the English and German maidens and matrons in a way that 
 makes them the envy of their less favored American sis- 
 ters, of whom it might well be said, with Cresar, " Would 
 they were fatter." " Sleek-headed " men and women sleep 
 well o' nights, for they have a good supply of extra adipose to 
 meet the wear and tear incidental to modern life, which does 
 not leave them at night nervous wrecks too utterly unstrung 
 even to sleep. George I. thought a woman's beauty was in 
 direct proportion to her avoirdupois, and gross as was his idea 
 of beauty it was preferable to the school girl's " spirituel " 
 ideal. Plumpness makes its owner warmer, happier, and gen- 
 erally better tempered than ninety pounds of flesh and bones, 
 no matter how vivacious. So that so long as full weight 
 (gee tables for relation of height to weight) does not come 
 from sloth, or gluttony, it should be regarded not as some- 
 thing to be dreaded and lamented over, but as a surplus fund 
 
 upon which sickness and worry may draw in times of neces- 
 sity. An undue amount of fat may be safely removed by 
 the methods detailed in the appendix, but the cases in which 
 this is required are rare in this country. Chalk, vinegar, 
 pickles, and other school girl abominations are n«>t to be 
 
52 Physiology am> Hygiene:. 
 
 thought of, as they arc both inefficient and dangerous. 
 Properly arranged exercise and regulation of diet (see Chap- 
 ter III) will do far more to reduce fat than any quack medi- 
 cine. Such methods as are detailed in the Appendix should 
 be adopted when the body becomes too well padded for coin- 
 fort; but it should be remembered that a considerable quan- 
 tity of fat is requisite for protection against cold, for a fat 
 man does not dread a drop in the thermometer as does his 
 thinner brother. And naturally so, for our fat friend has 
 on an extra undergarment; or, if we return to the comparison 
 of the body to a house, his is well sheathed, and bound with 
 felt beneath its clapboards. 
 
 Fat is a poor conductor of heat; and hence an overheated 
 person, if fat, cools slowly, and, vice versa, endures with com- 
 fort an amount of cold that is exceedingly irksome to one 
 thinner. The arrangement of fat in the body is as daintily 
 adjusted as if the despised substance was really an object of 
 value, for fat is not spread over the internal surfaces of the 
 body like butter upon bread; but each tiny roll of fat has 
 its own envelope and cell. Under the microscope these fat 
 cells appear like a spheroidal sac, containing an amber-col- 
 ored fluid; for the fats of the body are held there in a liquid 
 condition, since they melt at about the same heat as good 
 butter. After death they cool, or as soon as the temperature 
 of the body falls below normal. On the side of each sac can 
 be found, according to some observers, a tiny point of Beale's 
 germinal matter, whose duty is to elaborate fat from the fat- 
 making foods. Others think fat comes from a churning of 
 the fatty foods in the intestines, and that the butter, so to 
 speak, is drained off and deposited in these cells, which may 
 be found wherever areolar tissue — or that which is spongy 
 and has numerous interstices — affords a suitable repository. 
 No amount of starvation can ever remove all the fat from 
 the body, for, no matter how emaciated the body becomes, 
 fat may always be found behind the eye, around the heart, 
 in the brain, and about the spinal cord. In short, it may be 
 said that fat may be found normally every- where in the body 
 
Beams, Rafters, Cushions, and Servants. 53 
 
 except between the air-cells of the lungs, in the Lobes of the 
 ears, and in the upper eyelids. 
 
 Beside normal fat there is what is known as pathological 
 fat. Normal fat is designed to pad the body, and, like a 
 camel's hump, to feed it in time of need; for many a plump 
 body escapes at last, hollow-eyed and exhausted, from a te- 
 dious illness which it never would have survived if it had not 
 been for the reserve-commissary department in its adipose 
 tissue. The fat of disease is a vastly different thing, for it 
 is not available fat, but fat that comes from the change of 
 muscle into useless tissue. The pathologists call this fatty 
 degeneration, and it is well named; for a muscle so changed 
 has degenerated into a substance that is unable longer to 
 properly perform its duties. If such change takes place in 
 the muscles of the heart they may suddenly refuse to con- 
 tract, and death inevitably result. More frequently they 
 perform their work with increasing difficulty, making loco- 
 motion and work almost impossible, until the same result is 
 obtained. If such fatty degeneration takes place in the 
 walls of a blood-vessel they may suddenly rupture and the 
 person die instantly of apoplexy, or be stricken with paraly- 
 sis and drag along a precarious existence for a term of years. 
 It is a well-known fact that malt liquors often enormously 
 fatten those who freely imbibe them; but it should also be 
 remembered that this fattening is largely of the pathological 
 variety, for there is in these cases not only an abnormal de- 
 position of fat from the superfluous hydrocarbons taken 
 Digestion, Chapter IV), but there is also fatty degenera- 
 tion of tissue, and consequent increased liability to death 
 from heart disease and apoplexy. So well known is this that 
 many life insurance companies refuse to take risks on the 
 lives of those who work in breweries or largely use malt 
 liquors. Cuts, wounds, and bruises upon such persons from 
 similar reasons are very difficult to heal, and there is no one 
 upon whom a surgeon more dreads to operate than one of 
 these beer-bloated objects. 
 
 Beer, it should be remembered, cannot make muscles or 
 
54 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 strength. It may and does benumb the faculties, and fatten; 
 but this fattening is useless, and even harmful, unless it is 
 
 oik's ambition to transform his body into adipocere after 
 death. Adipocere is the name given to an ammoniacal soap 
 
 into which the fats of the body are sometimes converted 
 after death. This is especially prone to happen in the case 
 of fleshy bodies buried in moist ground and excluded from 
 the atmosphere. Such bodies do not putrefy, but are slowly 
 transmuted into a yellowish white, cheesy substance, unctu- 
 ous and soapy to the touch. Such cases are rare, and cer- 
 tainly present no inducement to beer-drinking, even though 
 these corpses are said to have been converted into a very fail- 
 variety of toilet soap by a sacrilegious Frenchman. 
 
 Moreover, it has been clearly shown, by actual experiment, 
 that even a single glass of porter diminishes muscular contrac- 
 tilitv. A half pint of beer may make man feel as if he could 
 lift a ton, but when placed on trial in the gymnasium it will be 
 found that his lifting power is always less. Push it a little 
 further, and the lifting power disappears entirely, for the 
 man is poisoned — or intoxicated; for the words mean exactly 
 the same. Muscles poisoned with alcohol are always para- 
 lyzed to a greater or less extent. 
 
 Paralysis is a loss of muscular power, either temporary or 
 permanent. A temporary paralysis may be produced in any 
 of the voluntary muscles by striking them sufficiently hard 
 across their long diameter. Paralysis, however, usually oc- 
 curs in a muscle from some trouble with the nervous apparatus, 
 upon which it relies for the necessary directions for contrac- 
 tion. If for any reason the nerve wires become interfered 
 with, the waiting muscle at the other end grows weary of 
 the delay and, failing to get its fair share of the body's 
 nutriment, like all other idle beings begins to waste away. 
 Hence it is that a paralyzed limb is smaller than its sound 
 mate; not because there is necessarily disease in the mus- 
 cle, but because its disuse necessarily brings wasting. 
 In a measure the same is true of every muscle disused from 
 whatever cause. Hence the great need for systematic exer- 
 
Beams, Rafters, Cushions, and Servants. 55 
 
 cise for all the muscles. An unused muscle is a starved 
 muscle, and starvation inevitably brings emaciation. It 
 is a stingy master who starves a willing servant, and no 
 one was ever better served than we by our five hundred 
 odd battalions of muscular disks; but they must, to perform 
 efficient work, be well fed and cared for or they soon lose 
 their cunning. The foods that are necessary to build up the 
 muscles will be spoken of more in detail in a succeeding 
 chapter; but it should be remembered that no amount of 
 food can take the place of judicious exercise. 
 
 With our modern civilization and labor-saving machinery 
 we find it necessary to resort to calisthenics, massage, and 
 gymnastics to supply what is lacking in our way of living. All 
 are excellent in place, and so greatly needed by the present 
 generation that, by the aid of Dr. W. G. Anderson, an Ap- 
 pendix has been added to this book for the purpose of giving 
 specific directions for the physical development of any part 
 of the body that may be deficient. The needs of such sys- 
 tematic cultivation may be seen by looking over any miscel- 
 laneous audience in this country. Bright eyes, intelligent 
 faces, and quick wit may be met with on every side; but a 
 well-developed body can hardly be found. Almost every 
 vocation dwarfs or disfigures the body in some way, so much 
 so that a skillful surgeon can generally tell what a man's 
 business is from the marks it leaves upon his body, unless he 
 devotes some time daily to its symmetrical development. 
 William Blaikie, in his JToio to Get /Strong, claims that ten 
 minutes a day, preferably either just before breakfast or at 
 bed-time, is amply sufficient for this purpose; and the results 
 obtained by Professors Maclaren and Anderson amply bear 
 out this statement. No one is too busy to take that amount 
 of time daily for the care of the body, and no investment of 
 time pays better, in the hardest American sense; for, as has 
 been well said by Herbert Spencer, the first requisite for 
 (continued) success is that a man should be a good animal. 
 
 This is so often forgotten in our zeal for book knowledge 
 that it will bear repetition. A dilapidated body is no more 
 
56 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 a help to religion than any other dilapidated house to wor- 
 ship in, and we may he as much to blame for the body as the 
 house. Muscles are tools ready prepared for use, and they 
 must be employed or they rust. How they then damage the 
 body will be further explained in the chapter on Moth, Rust, 
 and Microbes. Such damage is as criminal as willful misuse 
 of a friend's property, and as foolish as cutting shingles from 
 one's own roof for kindling wood. Fine tools deserve line care, 
 and daintier tools than muscles never yet have been designed. 
 Work is not the curse laid upon Adam, for before the fall he 
 was set to dress and keep the garden. It is our unwilling- 
 ness to work that constitutes its grievance. Our subterfuges 
 to escape from it are but another instance of our folly; for 
 the greater our success in this direction the greater our un- 
 happiness. 
 
 We often learn much of the value of a substance from the 
 care taken in its packing. From the great care that has 
 been taken to wrap in sheathing each fiber and muscle it 
 seems as if this held true of these patient servants of ours. 
 First, each fiber has its own particular sheath (sarcolemma), 
 in which the piles of disks are held as coins in a long purse ; 
 then these sheaths are bound together into larger bundles by 
 a large sheath (perimysium), and lastly, the muscles are held 
 together by a loose frame-work of areolar tissue and firmer 
 fascia — bandages — for the word really means that. It has 
 been well chosen, too, for no Egyptian mummy with its mul- 
 titudinous yards of linen was ever bandaged more skillfully 
 than is the human body with its many fascia, superficial and 
 deep. See Chapter I. Fascia rolled in a hard white cord is 
 usually called tendon or sinew, which are the strings by 
 which muscles are fastened to the bones. The tendons are 
 exceedingly tough, and will support a weight large in pro- 
 portion to their size, but once raptured they are slow to heal. 
 Ligaments, except in name, are the same as tendons and are 
 designed to hold the articular surfaces of bones together 
 and thus prevent their dislocation or separation. Violent 
 .stretching of these ligaments gives rise to what are known 
 
Beams, Rafters, Cushions, and Servants. 57 
 
 popularly as sprains, and which are often exceedingly slow 
 to recover unless the joint is copiously bathed with hot 
 water, and put as perfectly as possible at rest. Dislocations 
 and fractures require the surgeon's aid. 
 
 To one interested in mechanics, a careful study of the 
 joints of the body would well repay the time spent upon it, 
 for there are found in the body hinge joints (elbow), ball 
 and socket (hip), wedge joints, and most of the forms of 
 mortice known to the carpenter. Probably no simpler or 
 more efficient piece of joining was ever designed than the 
 method adopted for binding together the bones of the fore- 
 arm, which are so arranged that they allow both rotary and 
 angular motion. This is done by making a hinge joint in 
 the expanded end of one bone (ulna) at the elbow, and 
 grooving the same so that the rounded head of the second 
 (radius) rolls over it like a wheel, while at the wrist the 
 expansion is reversed. 
 
 In fact, there is not a joint or a bone in the body which is 
 not well worth more careful study than it is possible to give 
 it in this chapter. Human and comparative osteology have 
 taught us all that is known of the former inhabitants of this 
 earth. Through all of them runs a general plan of structure 
 and increasing perfection until we come to man, whom the 
 Creator himself pronounced good. The ground-plan, so to 
 speak, on which man and all animals are constructed is that 
 of a double tube, and the lower the animal the more nearly 
 equal and parallel are the tubes. In the anterior tube the 
 lungs and abdominal organs are held, in the posterior the 
 nervous system. These tubes, or cavities, in man differ widely 
 in size, the anterior cavity, except in the head, where it holds 
 the brain, being very much the larger, as is well shown in 
 the cut on page 58. 
 
 The larger of these cavities is bisected by a partition 
 or diaphragm, which divides it into two parts; namely, 
 the thoracic and abdominal cavities. Each of these cavities 
 has :i separate entrance, both of which can be found in the 
 mouth; that Leading to the thoracic cavity being known as 
 3* 
 
58 
 
 Physiology and IIy<;iene. 
 
 the windpipe, directly behind which can be found the tube 
 ((esophagus), leading to the lower or abdominal cavity. 
 
 Cross Section of Thorax at the Level of the Shoulders. 
 Anterior or thoracic cavity, b. Vertebral cavity. 
 
 The thoracic cavity, or chest, as it is usually called, lies 
 entirely above the diaphragm, and contains the right and left 
 lungs, and between them the heart and great vessels soon to 
 be described. Their approximate situation may be fixed by 
 remembering that a bullet would pierce the heart if it entered 
 the chest at a right angle just above the fifth rib, and to the 
 middle line just above the left nipple. A wound exactly in 
 the middle line would involve both the heart and great vessels, 
 and if to the right would escape the heart but pass through 
 the right lung. A knife thrust into the lower intercostal 
 spaces would wound the base of the lung during inspiration, 
 but if done during expiration the lung itself might escape 
 injury. See page 40. 
 
 The abdominal cavity, as its name indicates, is located in 
 the abdomen. It is the largest cavity in the body, and en- 
 tirely separated from the thorax by the diaphragm. Anat- 
 omists divide the abdomen by imaginary lines into nine 
 regions, which are numbered in Plate I. The upper tier 
 of these, namely, 1, 3, and 7, contain some of the most 
 important of the abdominal viscera; namely, the liver, 
 stomach, and spleen, all of which lie directly beneath the 
 diaphragm. The spleen, concerning whose uses we have 
 
.'.•■■::-' 
 
 
 >\ 
 
 
 .. ,-• 
 
 fi 
 
Beams, Rafters, Cushions, and Servants. 59 
 
 much yet to learn, lies to the left of the stomach in region 
 V, and is an oval body, weighing four to eight ounces, well 
 supplied with blood; but what it does there is yet a mystery 
 to physiologists. In regard to the stomach and liver we are 
 
 Liver, Stomach, Spleen, and Branches of C<eliac Axis. 
 
 1. Liver. 2. Its transverse fissure. 3. Gall-bladder. 4. Stomach. 5. Esophagus. 
 6. Pylorus. 7. Duodenum, descending portion. 8. Transverse portion of the duode- 
 num. 9. Pancreas. 10. Spleen. 11. Abdominal aorta. 12. Coeliac axis. 
 
 much better informed. The latter is the largest gland of the 
 body, and will be more fully spoken of in Chapter V. The 
 stomach lies between the spleen and liver, whose lobes par- 
 tially cover the pyloric end of this irregular bag, which has 
 two openings; namely, the cardiac, through which food passes 
 from the oesophagus, and the pylorus (gateway), out of which 
 the food passes when prepared for digestion. The stomach, 
 therefore, is the kitchen of the body, and its duties and trials 
 will be discussed in the following chapter. 
 
GO Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 DINING-ROOM, COOKS, AND SCULLIONS. 
 
 The kitchen is generally the least interesting place in a fine 
 house, unless you expect to make it your home. Then it sud- 
 denly acquires a personal interest to the good housewife not 
 to be exceeded by any room in the house. Its minutest 
 appointments and deficiencies, if any, are well known and 
 intelligently remedied as soon as possible. So it should be 
 with the culinary department of the body, for we needs must 
 eat twice or thrice daily, and our comfort more largely 
 depends upon the kitchen than the parlor. Many of the proc- 
 esses below stairs are not appetizing to the looker-on, and 
 the same may be said of digestion ; but no lady is truly mis- 
 tress of her house until she thoroughly understands what 
 should be done in the kitchen. Similarly we need not keep 
 constantly before our eyes the hideous charts of the digestive 
 organs, which, perhaps more than all other causes, have made 
 the study of physiology repulsive, but the why and wherefore 
 of cooking and eating should be known to all. Ignorance on 
 this point destroys more infant life than all the epidemics 
 combined, and to one compelled to live with a confirmed 
 dyspeptic it is usually a source of regret that indigestion 
 later in life is not similarly fatal. 
 
 Dyspepsia is usually due to intemperance, not in alcoholic 
 liquors alone, but in improper food, where temperance is as 
 greatly needed as in regard to liquor. " Them religious," said 
 a colored caterer, "eat awful." Saint Paul's injunction, 
 " to knowledge, add temperance " was given not to the disso- 
 lute but to the Christian Church, which must obey it or suf- 
 fer many wretched hours of gloom and dyspepsia. For 
 intelligent temperance, knowledge is first requisite, and this 
 
DINING-ROOM AND SCULLIONS. 61 
 
 can only be obtained by a careful study of what changes are 
 required in food to make it available for the uses of the 
 body. 
 
 Food is whatever feeds the body, and hence in its widest 
 sense it includes air and water, but as ordinarily understood 
 will be used here as referring only to such foods as require 
 digestion in the body. 
 
 Food ought to embrace all the elements found within 
 the body, which chemists tell us are fifteen in number. These, 
 according to Professor Atwater's table, exist there in the 
 following amounts for a man weighing 148 pounds: 
 
 Constituents of the Body. 
 
 f Oxygen 92.4 pounds. 
 
 Hydrogen 14.6 " 
 
 5 Gases -j Nitrogen 4.6 " 
 
 Chlorine 0.12 " 
 
 [Fluorine 0.02 " 
 
 f Carbon 33 .30 " 
 
 3 Metalloids { Phosphorus 1 .40 " 
 
 [Sulphur 0.24 " 
 
 f Calcium 2.80 " 
 
 Potassium 0.34 <; 
 
 | Sodium 0.12 " 
 
 7 Metals { Magnesi urn . 04 " 
 
 | Iron 0.02 " 
 
 Manganese. . ) ^^ 
 
 [ Copper. 
 
 \ 
 
 None of these elements except the gases, oxygen, hydro- 
 gen, and nitrogen, and these to only a limited amount, 
 exist in a free or uncombined state in the body. The free 
 oxygen found in the lungs and elsewhere comes chiefly from 
 inspired air, whose function will be discussed in the chapter 
 on Sewerage and Ventilation. Neither it nor free nitrogen 
 or hydrogen is usually considered food, although in combi- 
 nation they constitute with carbon by far the most important 
 part of all we eat. 
 
 Although the body is built up of the fifteen elements 
 given above, it is as impossible to nourish it with them in 
 their free or elementary condition as was the crazy French- 
 man's scheme of creating a man by simply revolving in a vast 
 
62 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 cylinder the exact quantity of each element found in a human 
 body. He hoped by some happy chance that the exact num- 
 ber of atoms would arrange themselves just so as to construct 
 a body if he could but keep them in revolution sufficiently 
 long. That was many years ago, but as the new Adam has 
 not yet appeared it is fair to conclude that the learned 
 savant has failed in his experiment. 
 
 A similar attempt to feed a man on the amount of carbon, 
 oxygen, and phosphorus excreted each day -would, be equally 
 disappointing, for the chemical elements are not food, un- 
 less combined by chemical affinity. Chemical affinity, or 
 chemism, is the force which holds elementary atoms together. 
 Without this power in nature we should know but seventy 
 substances instead of the infinite variety which we see on all 
 sides. 
 
 If our present understanding of chemistry is correct, all of 
 the infinite variety of substances known to man are com- 
 binations, more or less intricate, of about seventy original 
 elements. By no means all of these combinations are fitted 
 for food. In fact, but comparatively few are yet used, and 
 these are not the simpler inorganic compounds, but more com- 
 plex substances found either in the animal or vegetable king- 
 dom. A body has to be built very much as a house, for no 
 man takes so much free oxygen, so much carbon, and so 
 much silicon to construct a brown-stone front, but utilizes 
 the requisite carbon, silicon, etc., in the form of bricks, 
 board, and stone, which are complex chemical compounds. 
 So with our bodies, we should starve to death if we were fed 
 on powdered carbon and gaseous oxygen, hydrogen, and 
 nitrogen ; but given the same substances in meat, bread, and 
 butter, Ave laugh and grow fat. 
 
 Huxley estimated the amount of food required daily, thus: 
 lean beefsteak, 5,000 grains; bread, 6,000 grains; milk, 7,000 
 grains; potatoes, 3,000 grains; butter, 600 grains; water 
 about 6 pounds taken both as food and drink to supply the 
 daily loss of the system. A large portion of the water required 
 for the system comes from the food, as may be seen from the 
 
DlNING-RoOM AND SCULLIONS. 
 
 63 
 
 annexed table of Professor Atwater, which shows that even 
 Avhat we consider solid food contains from fifty to eighty 
 per cent, of water. 
 
 COMPOSITION OF ANIMAL FOODS. 
 Flesh, etc., Freed from Bone, Shell, and other Eefuse. 
 
 Kinds of Food Materials. 
 
 (Italics indicate European analysis : 
 the rest are American.) 
 
 Meats, Fresh. 
 
 Beef, side, well fattened 
 
 Beef, Jean, nearly free from fat, 
 
 Beef, round, rather lean 
 
 Beef, sirloin, rather fat 
 
 Beef, neck, "second cut " 
 
 Beef, liver 
 
 Beef, tongue , 
 
 Beef, heart 
 
 Veal, lean 
 
 Veal, rather fat. 
 
 Mutton, side, well fattened. .. . 
 
 Mutton, leg 
 
 Mutton, shoulder 
 
 Mutton, loin (chop) 
 
 Meats, Prepared. 
 
 Dried Beef 
 
 Corned Beef, rather lean 
 
 Smoked Ham 
 
 Pork, Bacon, salted 
 
 Fowl. 
 
 Chicken, rather lean 
 
 Turkey, medium fitness 
 
 Goose, fat 
 
 Dairy Products. EGGS, ETC 
 
 Cow's Milk , 
 
 Cow's Milk, skimmed 
 
 CW'.s- Mill:, buttermilk 
 
 Cow's Milk, whey , 
 
 Cheese, whole milk 
 
 cheese, Bkimmed milk 
 
 Butter 
 
 Hen's Eggs 
 
 Fish, etc. 
 
 Flounder, whole 
 
 Haddock, dressed , 
 
 Blueftsh, dressed 
 
 p 
 
 a 
 
 Is 
 o 
 H 
 
 
 Nutrients. 
 
 
 m -= 
 
 - .5 
 . - « 
 
 
 ■5 
 >-* 
 
 o 
 
 a 
 O 
 
 Perct. 
 
 < 
 
 Per ct. 
 
 Per ct. 
 
 Per ct. 
 
 Per it. 
 
 Per ct. 
 
 54.6 
 
 45.4 
 
 17.2 
 
 27.2 
 
 ... 
 
 1.0 
 
 76.0 
 
 24.0 
 
 21.8 
 
 0.9 
 
 . • • 
 
 1.3 
 
 66.7 
 
 33.3 
 
 23.0 
 
 9.0 
 
 • • • 
 
 1.3 
 
 60.0 
 
 40.0 
 
 20.0 
 
 19.0 
 
 
 1.0 
 
 64.5 
 
 35.5 
 
 19.9 
 
 14.5 
 
 
 1.1 
 
 69.5 
 
 30.5 
 
 20.1 
 
 5.4 
 
 3.5 
 
 1.5 
 
 63.5 
 
 36.5 
 
 17.4 
 
 18.0 
 
 
 1.1 
 
 56.5 
 
 43 5 
 
 16.3 
 
 26.2 
 
 
 1.0 
 
 78.8 
 
 21.2 
 
 19.9 
 
 0.8 
 
 , . . 
 
 0.5 
 
 72.3 
 
 27.7 
 
 18.9 
 
 7.5 
 
 
 1.3 
 
 45.9 
 
 54.1 
 
 14.7 
 
 38.7 
 
 • . • 
 
 0.7 
 
 61.8 
 
 38.2 
 
 ■18.3 
 
 19.0 
 
 • > • 
 
 0.9 
 
 58.6 
 
 41.4 
 
 18.1 
 
 22.4 
 
 
 6.9 
 
 49.3 
 
 50.7 
 
 15.0 
 
 35.0 
 
 
 0.7 
 
 58.6 
 
 41.4 
 
 30.3 
 
 4.4 
 
 
 6.7 
 
 58.1 
 
 41.9 
 
 13.3 
 
 26.6 
 
 • ■ . 
 
 2.0 
 
 41.5 
 
 58.5 
 
 16.7 
 
 39.1 
 
 
 2.7 
 
 10.0 
 
 90.0 
 
 3.0 
 
 80.5 
 
 
 6.5 
 
 72.2 
 
 27.8 
 
 24.4 
 
 2.0 
 
 
 1.4 
 
 66.2 
 
 33.8 
 
 23.8 
 
 8.7 
 
 
 1.3 
 
 38.0 
 
 62.0 
 
 15.9 
 
 45.6 
 
 
 0.5 
 
 87.4 
 
 12.6 
 
 3.4 
 
 3.8 
 
 4.8 
 
 0.7 
 
 90.7 
 
 9.3 
 
 3.1 
 
 0.7 
 
 4.8 
 
 0.7 
 
 90.3 
 
 9,7 
 
 4.1 
 
 0.9 
 
 4.0 
 
 0.7 
 
 93 2 
 
 6.8 
 
 0.9 
 
 0.2 
 
 5.0 
 
 0.7 
 
 31.2 
 
 68.8 
 
 27.1 
 
 35.4 
 
 2.4 
 
 3.9 
 
 41.3 
 
 58.7 
 
 38.3 
 
 6.8 
 
 9.0 
 
 4.6 
 
 9.0 
 
 91.0 
 
 1.0 
 
 87.5 
 
 0.5 
 
 2.0 
 
 73.1 
 
 26.9 
 
 13.4 
 
 11.8 
 
 0.7 
 
 1.0 
 
 84.2 
 
 15.8 
 
 13.8 
 
 0.7 
 
 
 1.3 
 
 SI. 4 
 
 18.6 
 
 17.1 
 
 0.3 
 
 
 1.2 
 
 78.5 
 
 21.5 
 
 19.0 
 
 1.2 
 
 #. . 
 
 1.3 
 
64 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 Kinds of Food Materials. 
 
 {Italics indicate European analysis; 
 the rest are American. 
 
 Fish, etc. 
 
 Cod. dressed 
 
 Whitefish, whole 
 
 Shad, whole 
 
 Mackerel, average, whole. 
 Salmon, whole 
 
 Salt Cod 
 
 Smoked Herring, 
 Salt Mackerel. . . 
 
 Oysters 87.2 
 
 Per ct. 
 
 S2.G 
 69.8 
 70.G 
 71. G 
 63. G 
 
 5:;. 8 
 34.5 
 42.2 
 
 Per ct. 
 
 17.4 
 30.2 
 29.4 
 28.4 
 3G4 
 
 26. 1 
 53.8 
 47.2 
 
 12.8 
 
 Nutrients. 
 
 o c 
 
 Per 
 
 15. 
 
 22. 
 18. 
 18. 
 21, 
 
 21. 
 36 
 22, 
 
 6.0 
 
 Per <t. 
 
 04 
 6.5 
 9.5 
 8.2 
 13.4 
 
 0.3 
 
 15.8 
 22.6 
 
 1.2 3.6 
 
 Per ct. 
 1.2 
 
 1.6 
 1.4 
 1.4 
 1.4 
 
 Salt 
 20.1 
 11.7 
 10.6 
 
 4.1 
 
 1.6 
 
 2.0 
 
 VEGETABLE FOODS. 
 
 
 'S 
 
 
 Nutrients 
 
 
 
 Kinds of Foods. 
 
 v "2 
 
 s'3 
 o = 
 
 si 1 
 
 
 •5 
 
 O 
 
 o 
 
 is 
 
 Per ct. 
 0.2 
 
 1.2 
 0.1 
 1.9 
 .6 
 0.4 
 0.3 
 0.3 
 0.1 
 0.3 
 0.9 
 0.8 
 1.3 
 02 
 3.7 
 5.4 
 0.8 
 1.1 
 0.9 
 1.2 
 1.8 
 0.9 
 
 
 Foods. 
 Wheat- flour, average* 
 
 Per ct. 
 11.6 
 
 13.5 
 
 8.3 
 13.0 
 10.4 
 13.1 
 11.8 
 13.5 
 11.2 
 10.6 
 
 7.7 
 14.5 
 13.5 
 12.4 
 13.7 
 15.0 
 75.5 
 75.8 
 91.2 
 87.9 
 90.0 
 90.4 
 
 Per ct. 
 11.1 
 
 13.5 
 
 8.6 
 
 11.7 
 
 11.9 
 
 6.7 
 
 8.4 
 
 6.5 
 
 3.3 
 
 4.8 
 
 15.1 
 
 9.1 
 
 8.3 
 
 7.4 
 
 13.2 
 
 22.9 
 
 2.0 
 
 1.5 
 
 1.0 
 
 1.0 
 
 1.9 
 
 2.5 
 
 Per ct. 
 1.1 
 2.0 
 0.6 
 1.7 
 
 1.7 
 0.8 
 0.7 
 1.3 
 0.3 
 0.6 
 7.1 
 3.8 
 0.4 
 0.4 
 2.1 
 1.8 
 0.2 
 0.4 
 0.2 
 0.2 
 0.2 
 0.4 
 
 Per ct. 
 
 75.4 
 78.5 
 68.3 
 69.9 
 
 74 
 78.3 
 77.8 
 77.3 
 84.7 
 83.1 
 67.2 
 69.2 
 77.1 
 79.2 
 53.7 
 52.4 
 20.7 
 20.0 
 
 6.0 
 
 8.9 
 
 4.9 
 
 5.0 
 
 Per ct. 
 0.6 
 
 Wheat-flour, maximum* 
 
 1.5 
 
 Wheat-Hour, minimum* 
 
 0.3 
 
 Graham-flour (wheat) 
 
 1.8 
 
 Cracked Wheat 
 
 1.4 
 
 Pearled Barley 
 
 0.7 
 1.0 
 
 Buckwheat-flour 
 
 1.1 
 
 Buckwheat "farina ; ' 
 
 0.4 
 
 Buckwheat " groats " 
 
 0.6 
 
 Oatmeal 
 
 2.0 
 
 Maize-meal 
 
 1.6 
 
 Hominy 
 
 0.4 
 
 Rice 
 
 0.4 
 
 Beans 
 
 3.6 
 
 Peas 
 
 2.5 
 
 
 1.0 
 
 Sweet Potatoes 
 
 1.2 
 
 Turnips 
 
 0.7 
 
 Carrots 
 
 0.8 
 
 Cabbage 
 
 1.2 
 
 
 0.8 
 
 * Of analyses of American flours. 
 
DINING-ROOM AND SCULLIONS. 
 
 65 
 
 
 ad 
 
 Nutrients. 
 
 Kinds of Foods. 
 
 £ J 
 
 fa 
 
 -5 
 
 o • 
 5 v 
 
 J3 
 
 tc 
 •a 
 
 c 
 o 
 
 Per cl. 
 1.1 
 
 1.3 
 1.5 
 4.3 
 0.0 
 0.0 
 
 
 Foods. 
 
 Perct. 
 
 95.2 
 
 90.0 
 
 84.8 
 
 83.0 
 
 15.1 
 
 2.2 
 
 32.7 
 
 34.2 
 
 30.0 
 
 8.0 
 
 8.3 
 
 3.9 
 
 4.9 
 
 7.9 
 
 13.1 
 
 Per ct. 
 1.1 
 
 0.7 
 
 0.4 
 
 0.4 
 
 1.2 
 
 0.3 
 
 8.9 
 
 9.5 
 
 8.4 
 
 10.3 
 
 10.7 
 
 12.3 
 
 10.4 
 
 12.4 
 
 9.0 
 
 Per ct. 
 0.G 
 0.1 
 0.0 
 0.0 
 
 0.0 
 0.0 
 1.9 
 1.4 
 0.5 
 9.4 
 9.9 
 48 
 13.7 
 44 
 0.3 
 
 Per ct. 
 
 1.4 
 7.3 
 12.8 
 12.0 
 83.3 
 96.7 
 
 Terct. 
 0.6 
 
 
 0.6 
 
 
 0.5 
 
 
 0.3 
 
 
 0.4 
 
 
 0.8 
 
 
 53.5 
 53.3 
 
 59.7 
 70.5 
 68.7 
 76.5 
 69.6 
 74.2 
 
 1.0 
 
 
 1.6 
 
 
 1.4 
 
 
 1.8 
 
 " Ovster " Crackers 
 
 2.4 
 2.5 
 
 
 1.4 
 
 Pilot (bread) Crackers 
 
 1.1 
 
 
 7 
 
 3.8 
 
 0.8 
 
 * From flour of about average composition. 
 
 According to a recent French statistician, a man living for 
 fifty years eats during that tim$- 79,000 pounds of bread, 
 16,000 of meat, 4,000 of vegetables, eggs, and fish, and re- 
 quires 7,000,000 gallons of water; for fifty-nine per cent, of the 
 entire body is composed of water, which must, therefore, be 
 introduced into the system in about that proportion, in our 
 foods, to keep the organism in proper working order, not 
 only keeping the tissues moist and succulent, but by wash- 
 in or out effete matters as well. 
 
 Water, as the most important of the inorganic foods, 
 also deserves our careful attention, not only because it 
 composes the bulk of our bodies, but because it is the 
 agent by which many of the ills of the house in which 
 we live are brought to pass. Long ago the human body 
 was defined as forty-five pounds of solid matter diffused 
 through five and a half pails of water. This is not abso- 
 lutely exad, but the annexed table shows that water is 
 found in all of the tissues though in widely varying pro- 
 portions: 
 
06 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 PARTS IN A THOUSAND OF WATER AND SOLIDS. {Besanez.) 
 
 Water. Solids. Water. Solids. 
 
 Enamel of the teeth 2 998 Nerves 780 220 
 
 Teeth 100 900 Blood 791 209 
 
 Bonos 220 780 Cellular tissue 796 204 
 
 Fat 299 701 Kidneys 827 173 
 
 Elastic tissue. 496 504 Bile 864 136 
 
 Cartilage 550 450 Milk 801 109 
 
 Liver 693 307 Chyle 928 72 
 
 Spinal cord 667 333 Mucus 034 60 
 
 Skin 720 280 Lymph 983 17 
 
 Brain 750 250 Spinal fluid 088 12 
 
 Muscles 757 243 Saliva 995 5 
 
 Spleen 758 242 Sweat 998 2 
 
 If, therefore, all the water could be extracted from a body 
 it would weigh less than half of what it does during life, and 
 if kept from moisture it might be preserved almost indefi- 
 nitely. Buckland, in his Cariosities of Natural History, 
 tells the following story: 
 
 " In the College of Surgeons is the dried body of a poor 
 boy that was found bricked up in a vault in a London church. 
 This boy was about twelve years of age. He was found erect, 
 with his clothes on, in a va*ilt underneath Saint Botolph's, 
 Aldgate, old church, in the year 1742, and is supposed 
 to have been shut in during the plague in London, in 
 1665, as the vault had not been opened since that period 
 till it was pulled down. This body weighs only eighteen 
 pounds." 
 
 A man loses about two quarts of water a day, about a 
 quarter of which passes off by the lungs, and the remainder 
 by the skin and kidneys. (See Sewerage.) 
 
 To supply this loss we are required to drink in foods and 
 liquids about one thousand pounds per year, or during an 
 average life-time a man drinks up an 800-foot lake. All 
 of this is not derived solely from liquids, for it is found 
 in grains that are usually spoken of as dry. It abounds 
 in meats, vegetables, and fruits. We obtain about thirty- 
 eight per cent, of it in bread, seventy per cent, in lean meat, 
 from seventy to ninety per cent, in vegetables, and even 
 more in some fruits. Indeed, if we used all these in a natural 
 
DINING-ROOM AND SCULLIONS. 67 
 
 state, there would not be need of very much additional sup- 
 ply. Extra water, as we need, we derive from the earth or 
 from the sky. From either source by care we may secure 
 pure and most acceptable water for the needs of the body 
 (see Chapter VI), but this is a different matter from pouring 
 down a large amount of fluid with each meal, as is the Amer- 
 ican custom. As more than one half of our food is water we 
 need very little while eating, when its use is mischievous in 
 that it is used as a substitute for saliva (page 78) and still 
 further interferes with digestion by unduly diluting the gas- 
 tric juice. Even when this is not the case large draughts of 
 water in hot weather tend to produce profuse perspiration, 
 and thus aggravate the very evil it is designed to relieve. 
 Especially is this true in the case of ice water, whose use in- 
 evitably produces dryness of the throat and desire for more, 
 until the quantity seriously disables the stomach, and may 
 even produce death, when taken into an over-heated system. 
 Small draughts of water, slowly taken, satisfy thirst better 
 than large ones quickly swallowed. In fact, thirst, or dry- 
 ness of the throat, often mistaken for thirst, may be as well 
 relieved by gargling the throat with hot water as by drink- 
 ing it, and thirst, or the general demand of the body for 
 fluid, can be relieved without drinking at all. Injection of 
 fluids, or the application of water to the skin, even if it be 
 salt water, will relieve if not entirely remove thirst; a fact 
 well worth knowing in shipwreck. In an old book, published 
 in 17G9, entitled The Narrative of Captain Kennedy'' 8 Losing 
 His Vessel, may be found the following, bearing on this sub- 
 ject: "I cannot conclude without making mention of the 
 great advantage received from soaking my clothes twice a 
 day in salt water and putting them on without wringing. It 
 was a considerable time before I could make my people 
 comply with this measure, although from seeing the good 
 effects produced they practiced it twice a day of their own 
 accord. To this I may with justice lay my preservation and 
 that of the six other persons with me. Four persons in the 
 boat who drank salt water went delirious and died." Prob- 
 
 • 
 
08 Physiology axd Hygiene. 
 
 ably none of the readers of this will ever he driven to Captain 
 Kennedy's strait, hut as we must all drink, it is important that 
 the water taken daily should be sufficient to keep the kidneys 
 well at work and the skin moist in hot weather. Drink 
 sparingly at meal-time, and drink pure water. The last is 
 often the most difficult and important, for there can be but 
 little doubt that typhoid and cholera are usually introduced 
 into the system by means of drinking water. In case of the 
 last outbreak of cholera its spread is clearly traced by Dr. Cut- 
 lifTe to the Hindoo pilgrims assembled at Hurdwar, a few 
 miles from the spot where the Ganges escapes from the 
 Himalayas, of whom a handful had come' from a cholera 
 district. 
 
 On the 12th of April the three millions assembled to 
 bathe and drink. "The bathing-place of the pilgrims was 
 a space six hundred and fifty feet long by thirty feet wide, 
 shut off from the rest of the Ganges by rails. Into this long, 
 narrow inclosure pilgrims from all parts of the encampment 
 crowded as closely as possible from early morn to sunset; 
 the water within this space, during the whole time, was thick 
 and dirty — partly from the ashes of the dead brought by 
 surviving relatives to be deposited in the water of their river 
 god, and partly from the washing of the clothes and bodies 
 of the bathers. Now, pilgrims at the bathing ghaut, after 
 entering the stream, dip themselves under the water three 
 times or more, and then drink of the holy water, while say- 
 ing their prayer. The drinking of the water is never omitted ; 
 and when two or more of the family bathe together, each 
 from his own hand gives the other water to drink. On the 
 evening of the next day, the 13th of April, eight cases of 
 cholera were admitted into one of the hospitals at Hurdwar. 
 By the 15th, the whole of this vast concourse of pilgrims 
 had dispersed," carrying the cholera in every direction over 
 India; it attacked the British troops along the various routes, 
 it passed the northern frontier, got into Persia, and so on into 
 Europe." 
 
 If space allowed, similarly well authenticated cases of the 
 
DlXIXG-RoOM AND ScULLIONS. 69 
 
 spread of typhoid from particular wells or rivers, contami- 
 nated with typhoid excreta, could be given. But these are 
 not necessary, for it is so well proven that drinking water is 
 often poisonous that pore water is now universally sought, 
 for large cities, at some distance from them if at all possible. 
 For such drinking, rain, spring, river, lake, or well water is 
 employed, and of these the last is usually the most objection- 
 able. If it were not for the disagreeable taste which rain- 
 water acquires by standing in hogsheads or cisterns it would 
 undoubtedly be the best, as it is the purest, and in all cases of 
 epidemic disease, where there is the least doubt about the purity 
 of the water supply, filtered rain water should be used without 
 regard to its taste. Spring and river water are pleasanter for 
 drinking, from the fact that they usually contain carbonic 
 acid gas in solution — sometimes as much as one gallon to 
 twenty-five of water — which imparts to them a brightness 
 and freshness which rain-water does not possess, for this gas 
 comes mainly from the decomposition of vegetable matter in 
 the earth. So long as this is the only substance found in 
 solution in drinking water it does it no hurt, but rather im- 
 proves, but where carbonic acid gas is found in large quantity 
 with it is generally joined an excess of inorganic salts. When 
 these are found in smaller quantities than forty grains to the 
 gallon the water is said to be potable, unless it contains al- 
 buminoid ammonia, or foul-smelling gases. Albuminoid 
 ammonia is that contained in water, not as free ammonia, but 
 that which maybe obtained from the nitrogenous compounds 
 held in the water by heating it with a caustic alkali. Warm- 
 ing water containing a considerable amount of decomposing 
 matter will cause it to give disagreeable odors which other- 
 wise would have escaped detection; nor should water thai is 
 fit for drinking give any odor when in a closed half-filled 
 bottle for several days. 
 
 "The best water for drinking," says Dr. Hunt, "is that 
 which is mingled with pure air, which is free from any organic 
 animal or vegetable matter, cither solid or gaseous, and which 
 does not hold in suspension or solution any mineral matter. 
 
70 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 Water is frequently colored by vegetable matters, and yet 
 the amount is such as to be easily neutralized or discharged 
 from the system without evil effects. It is only when veg- 
 etable matter is in a state of decay that there is much risk. 
 The same is true as to animal matter or excretions, which 
 are in general more dangerous than vegetable matters. It is 
 chiefly so when undergoing active putrefactive change, and 
 especially when it contains those living vegetable micro- 
 organisms which are now recognized as associated with dis- 
 ease. It is found that both air and water abound with 
 minute forms either of animal or vegetable life. To dis- 
 tinguish them from gaseous products, they are usually 
 called 'particulate,' as made up of particles. These are 
 intended to be conservative of life and health by feeding 
 and nourishing upon those things not needed by man and 
 injurious to him. But when air and water are subjected to 
 very abnormal conditions, and are continuously and extrav- 
 agantly befouled, either these low forms of life multiply 
 to an amount which nature cannot dispose of, or new and 
 virulent forms spring up, which, getting into the system 
 through air or water, give rise to specific forms of disease." 
 The taste of water is not always a safe guide to its use, 
 for dangerous drinking water may be cool and sparkling and 
 yet defiled with privy drainings, or other impurities. Such 
 water often becomes fetid by merely standing, but a better 
 and a very simple test is Heisch's, which can be readily ap- 
 plied in any household. It consists of simply dissolving in 
 three quarters of a pint of the suspected water half a tea- 
 spoonful of loaf sugar and placing the solution in a corked 
 pint bottle in a warm place for a couple of days. If at the 
 end of that time it is found transparent it may be considered 
 fit for drinking, for if the water had contained sufficient im- 
 purities to produce fermentation of the sugar, it turns the 
 liquid cloudy or turbid. Furthermore, safe water for drink- 
 ing ought to respond to such a color test as may be made by 
 filling completely with the water a large bottle made of col- 
 orless glass ; look through the water at some black object ', 
 
DlNING-RoOM AND SCULLIONS. 71 
 
 the water should appear perfectly colorless and free from 
 suspended matter. A muddy or turbid appearance indicates 
 the presence of soluble organic matter or of solid matter in 
 suspension. Nor should good water give any odor when thus 
 tested; empty out some of the water, leaving the bottle 
 half full ; cork up the bottle and place it for a few hours in 
 a warm place ; shake up the water, remove the cork, and 
 critically smell the air contained in the bottle. If it has any 
 smell, and especially if the odor is in the least repulsive, the 
 water should be rejected for domestic use. By heating the 
 water to boiling, an odor is evolved sometimes that does not 
 otherwise appear. 
 
 As a large portion of the water thus found unfit for 
 drinking comes from old wells, it might be helpful in this 
 connection to call the attention of the reader to the conclu- 
 sions arrived at some years ago by Mr. Cutler, a chemist 
 who examined the water of twenty-four wells in New Bruns- 
 wick, N. J.: 
 
 " A well may be considered as a perpendicular drain, and 
 as such we can readily perceive that it becomes a receptable 
 for all surface-water in its vicinity. One might suppose that 
 a well dug in a sandy soil or clayey soil would be thus sub- 
 ject to impurities, but when constructed through rock or 
 shale it would be entirely free from such contamination. 
 This, however, is not always the case, for although rock may 
 form some protection, still impure waters are often found in 
 wells built entirely through stone. 
 
 " The water drawn from the surface of the well is often 
 quite pure, while that drawn from the bottom is greatly 
 contaminated, showing that good and bad waters may exist 
 in a well at the same time, owing to the difference in their 
 specific gravities. 
 
 " Although the soil in which cess-pools are dug may be 
 able to retain the sewage for a long time, still the ground 
 gradually becomes saturated, and, acting as a sponge, the 
 impure water is carried for many yards, until, perhaps, it 
 Strikes a well into which it may drain. 
 
72 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 "Persons living on high ground may suppose their wells 
 to be free from such impurities, not knowing that the barn- 
 yard or cess-pool may be one of the springs from which their 
 water is obtained. 
 
 " Wells constructed in the usual manner are particularly 
 apt to contain bad water — first, from drainage, as I have just 
 illustrated; and secondly, from the decay of animals or rep- 
 tiles which have fallen in them. The stones lining the wells 
 are so rudely put together that ample room is allowed for 
 toads, snakes, snails, etc., to collect, and hence frequently fall 
 into the water and perish. It is stated by well-diggers that 
 generally they find at the bottom of old wells eight to six- 
 teen inches of mud, containing the decaying debris of these 
 unfortunate creatures. It is therefore of the utmost impor- 
 tance that wells be so constructed that the water may be as 
 free as possible from all drainage and contamination caused 
 by the decay of small animals. 
 
 " It is almost impossible to construct a well from which 
 water known to be absolutely pure can be obtained. Hence, 
 an analysis of well-water is of much importance as the only 
 method of establishing the purity of the water. 
 
 "If a water contain over forty grains of solid matter to 
 the gallon, it is generally injurious to health. Such an 
 amount is always suspicious, and demands investigation to 
 ascertain if the matter is organic or inorganic." 
 
 Returning to table of foods, pages 63-65, we find them 
 divided into ash, carbohydrates, fat, and albuminoids, or 
 (1) Albuminoid, or nitrogenous; (2) Non-nitrogenous, or 
 fats, etc., the function of the first being to form and repair 
 muscles, while the non-nitrogenous furnish the body's fuel. 
 These fats and carbo-hydrates (sugar and starch) are hardly 
 less important, for although they do not form muscle they 
 are necessary for the production of heat and to fatten the 
 body. They correspond in value nearly to the coal which 
 the fireman shovels into the furnace of an engine, and with- 
 out which it is unable to do its work. Finally, in the column 
 headed " Ash," we find (3) salts, or the inorganic parts, except 
 
DlNING-RoOM AND SCULLIONS. 73 
 
 water, of our usual foods. These salts are mainly the 
 phosphate of lime and the sulphates, chlorides and phos- 
 phates *of potassium and sodium, together, with smaller 
 quantities of the salts of magnesium, iron, and manganese. 
 Such salts are essential to the proper formation of bone, and 
 if kept from the growing child it becomes rickety and 
 deformed. All of them, except common salt — chloride of 
 sodium — exist in sufficient quantities for health in our ordi- 
 nary foods. There seems to be a natural and instinctive 
 longing for salt by the herbivora and man, for wild animals 
 will travel long distances to enjoy a salt lick, and among 
 savage nations salt often brings the highest price of all com- 
 modities. Physiologists tell us that salt is necessary for cell 
 activity, so that this instinctive longing for salty food is 
 natural, but this is not true of pepper, mustard, and other 
 condiments. These are acquired tastes, and only required by 
 those whose jaded appetites require a spur. 
 
 Both foods and ffhe- human body may in their chemistry 
 be compared to an egg. The comparison is good in that 
 each may be divided into groups represented by the shell, 
 white, and yelk of the egg. * The first of these are the inor- 
 ganic constituents of the body, a list of which is given 
 below. -a 
 
 Group 1, or the shell group, includes in the human body: 
 
 1. Water. — Placed first, because about ninety pounds in an 
 average adult body. 
 
 2. Gases. — Oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, carbon dioxide, 
 marsh gas, sulphuretted hydrogen. 
 
 3. /Salts. — Sodium chloride, potassium chloride, ammoni- 
 um chloride, calcium fluoride, sodium carbonate, potassium car- 
 bonate, ammonium carbonate, calcium carbonate, magnesium 
 carbonate, sodium phosphate, potassium phosphate, calcium 
 phosphate, magnesium phosphate, ammonio-magnesium phos- 
 phate, ammonio-sodium phosphate, nitrate of ammonia, am- 
 monium sulphate, alkaline sulphates, calcium sulphate. 
 
 4. Free Acids. — Hydrochloric acid, sulphuric acid. 
 
 5. Silicon, iron, manganese, copper, lead. 
 4 
 
J4r Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 The exact role each of these performs in the body is not 
 yet definitely known ; in fact, it is not yet even known in 
 what combinations the members of the fifth group are found 
 in the body. But it is known wherever cell formation takes 
 place in the body there certain of the inorganic salts are 
 necessary. Calcium phosphate, for instance, is not only 
 necessary for the development of bone, but of all albuminoid 
 tissues. Sodium chloride is always found where cell activity 
 is great. The exchange of inorganic gases will be alluded 
 to under the subject of respiration. 
 
 Group 2 contains those compounds, analogous to the white 
 of the egg found in the human body, and known in general 
 as albuminoids. They are uncrystallizable, without definite 
 chemical composition, and resemble in many of their reac- 
 tions the white of an egg^ whence their name. The number 
 of these compounds is large. They are fluid, semi-solid, and 
 solid, and include such substances as seralbumen, fibrine, the 
 digestive ferments, globulin, chrondrogen, ostein, keratin, and 
 various pigments of more interest to the physiological chemist 
 than to the general student. 
 
 Group 3, the yelk group, includes the sugars and the fats 
 and starchy compounds of the body ; or, in other words, 
 this group embraces the non-nitrogenous carbon compounds. 
 
 This division of the body is helpful, for the reason that it 
 is about the same division as that previously adopted for 
 foods; namely, nitrogenous, carbo-hydrates, and inorganic, 
 each of whose digestion requires a different process to make 
 them part of their most nearly resembling constituents of 
 the body. As the starchy foods (Group 2) are those first 
 acted upon by the digestive fluids, it may be well to begin 
 our consideration of the assimilation of foods with those 
 which make up no small bulk of our every-day fare. About 
 seventy per cent, of the best bread, potatoes (seventy-five 
 per cent.), oatmeal, hominy, and Indian corn in less propor- 
 tion, are starchy matters which require cooking and chemical 
 change before they can be used in the body. Cooking bursts 
 the envelopes in which the starch granules are contained. 
 
DlNING-RoOM AND SCULLIONS. 75 
 
 hydrates them if moisture is added, or if dry heat alone is 
 employed changes white, insoluble starch to a soluble fawn- 
 colored substance known as dextrine. This is the reason why 
 toasted bread or cracker is more digestible than bread. 
 Cooking also separates the fiber of food, and thus renders it 
 more amenable to the action of the digestive fluids. Pork is 
 less digestible than beef and mutton, largely because the 
 fibers of the former are more compact than the latter, for if 
 thoroughly cooked and properly masticated pork ranks among 
 the best of our foods. 
 
 Mastication, or, in plain English, chewing, is the first act 
 in the process of digestion. For this purpose the mouth of 
 an adult is provided, or ought to be, with thirty-two teeth, 
 and should secrete something over a quart of saliva a 
 day. The form of the teeth proves that they are to bite, 
 to cut, and to grind; and hence that man is an omnivorous 
 animal. If we judge from the care displayed in their struct- 
 ure and their chemistry, the teeth ought to be the last part 
 of the skeleton to decay. It is so after death, and ought to be 
 before ; but the fact is that Americans have the worst teeth 
 and the best dentists of any nation upon the face of the 
 earth. A variety of dissimilar causes, such as candy, hot 
 drinks, ice water, patent flour, etc., have been considered by 
 different writers as the cause, but the probability is that, 
 while these may be exciting causes, the real error lies in our 
 ways of living. Poor teeth inevitably accompany poor 
 bones and flabby muscles, and if we should return to the 
 simpler and better ways of living of our grandfathers we 
 should in all probability have their good teeth. But, having 
 poor teeth, all the greater need of preserving them; and this 
 care should begin in childhood. A tooth-brush and tooth- 
 pick should be considered as indispensable to a child as a 
 handkerchief, and it should be taught to use them as dili- 
 gently. The first or milk teeth should not be prematurely 
 removed, but allowed to remain as long as possible, filling 
 with cheap fillings if necessary to preserve the contour of the 
 jaw. It should also be remembered that the six year 
 
76 Physiology and Hygiene. ... . 
 
 molars are never replaced. They follow so closely the tempo- 
 rary teeth that they are often confounded with them 'and 
 allowed to decay under the mistaken idea that they will be 
 replaced by permanent teeth later. Permanent teeth in this 
 country ought to be inspected by a competent dentist every 
 six months at least, in order that the beginnings of decay 
 may be arrested. Waiting to attend to a carious tooth until 
 forced to by toothache is very like waiting until a house is 
 afire before putting insurance upon it. 
 
 To understand why a tooth aches so violently when once 
 it begins requires some knowledge of the structure of teeth. 
 Pain usually implies pressure upon or poisoning of nerve 
 structure. In the case of the toothache it is clearly the 
 former, as a tooth is composed, from the outside, first of 
 enamel, second of dentine and cementum, and in its center a 
 pulp cavity designed to hold the nerve of the tooth. So long 
 as the tooth remains sound the nerve rests comfortably there, 
 but let the enamel once crack and allow food to find lodg- 
 ment and breed bacteria (see Chapter VIII) the dentine soon 
 breaks down and allows the nerve to be exposed to the air, 
 or otherwise inflamed. The nerve then becomes larger and 
 presses against the bony walls of its cavity until the pain 
 becomes almost unbearable. But suffering does not remove 
 the pain ; we are obliged to seek the dentist to extract the 
 tooth which he ought to have been called upon previously to 
 save. 
 
 The enamel which covers the teeth is the hardest sub- 
 stance found in the body, and so long as it remains unbroken 
 it is well-nigh indestructible. The microscope shows it to 
 be constructed of a multitude of hexagonal prisms, so hard 
 and packed so tightly together that, like flint, they will strike 
 fire. The bulk of a tooth is made up of wavy tubes of den- 
 tine with cementum gluing it to the jaw, and inside of the 
 tooth the pulp cavity already described. Killing the nerve 
 of a tooth means introducing into this cavity some substance, 
 such as arsenic, which will destroy the vitality of the nerve. 
 The objection to this is that the tooth then becomes a foreign 
 
DlNING-RoOM AND SCULLIONS. 77 
 
 body in the gum, where it is very liable to set up in- 
 flammation. In fact, such dead teeth are prone to make 
 more trouble than false teeth, whichj by the way, are no 
 modern invention, for the Chinese, Ion a; before we ever 
 dreamed of such things, whittled out of hard wood artificial 
 teeth to order, as they do till to-da»y ; their tooth car- 
 penters, according to Dr. Clancy, sitting on the street 
 corners to turn you out a set while you wait. False teeth 
 were known to the Romans, for in one of Horace's odes he 
 speaks of two belligerent hags falling into a quarrel, and in 
 the excitement of the occasion the false teeth of one of them 
 falls out. Gold fillings are as old as the Egyptians, for some 
 of their mummies have their teeth filled with gold, and well 
 filled, too, we are told. 
 
 False teeth are better than no teeth, but it is far better to 
 preserve even a poor set than to be compelled to rely on 
 porcelain substitutes, for at their best they can never as 
 perfectly masticate food as it should be done. Rinsing the 
 mouth immediately after a meal with a dilute solution of 
 common baking soda (saleratus), a pinch in half a glass of 
 water, and the use of a good tooth-brush and tooth-picks 
 freely in private, would save most of us many an hour's pain 
 at the dentist's. In addition at bed-time a piece of waxed 
 silk ought to be drawn between the teeth, wherever food 
 might gather and decay. Nature's teeth ought to serve us as 
 long as we have any occasion for them. But all this requires 
 more time than busy Americans think they can give to the 
 care of so trivial a matter as their teeth, until at last an ex- 
 posed nerve or an inflamed pulp cavity drives them to the 
 nearest dentist, quoting energetically Burns's "Ode to the 
 Toothache " as they go. 
 
 A tooth is too valuable a servant to be lightly lost, so that 
 if a sound one is by some mischance pushed from its socket 
 it ought to be immediately replaced, and if possible held 
 there, for the gums sometimes contract with sufficient firm- 
 ness to hold the tooth again in place and enable it to do 
 very fair work. In fact, (he original method for the use of 
 
78 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 artificial teeth was to extract a stump and immediately insert 
 a false tooth in its stead, which often was held with sufficient 
 firmness to enable it to bite or grind the food according as 
 it was an incisor or molar. 
 
 The molars, like the mills of the gods, are intended to 
 grind slowly and exceeding fine, for the efficiency of after 
 digestion depends largely upon the smallness of the frag- 
 ments of food and their thorough mixture with the fluids of 
 the mouth, or insalivation, as it is sometimes called. These 
 fluids come in part from the mucous glands of the mouth (see 
 Chapter V) and in part from the salivary glands. Two of 
 the latter are located beside the ear (parotid), two beneath 
 the jaw (submaxillary), and two beneath the tongue (sublin- 
 gual). Together they secrete about a quart of liquid, which 
 is continually being poured into the mouth through the ducts 
 leading from these glands. The ducts of the sublingual and 
 submaxillary glands, near together, open into the mouth just 
 beneath the tongue, while the ducts of the parotids pour 
 their saliva into the mouth through openings nearly opposite 
 the second of the molars of the upper jaw. With the tip of 
 the tongue the saliva can be felt continually trickling out of 
 these apertures, and greatly increased in quantity while 
 dining, or when the mouth " waters " for something good to 
 eat. 
 
 The purpose of the saliva is twofold : first, to thoroughly 
 lubricate the food so that swallowing may be easy, and 
 second to bring about a chemical change in the starch of the 
 food which transforms it into a variety of sugar (glucose) 
 which can be utilized in the body. If for any reason this is 
 not accomplished, either because the food is not finely 
 enough ground by the teeth, or because the saliva is deficient 
 in quantity or quality, starchy indigestion results, and hence 
 for many dyspeptics bread is the most difficult thing to 
 digest. Young infants have little or no saliva, and hence are 
 unable to properly digest starchy food. Although small quan- 
 tities may be disposed of lower down in the alimentary canal, 
 the bulk of these starchy foods remains undigested and causes 
 
DlNING-RoOM AND SCULLIONS. 79 
 
 innumerable infantile colics and not a few deaths. The 
 majority of patent infant foods are starchy in their nature, 
 and hence evil in their effects. Milk, properly prepared, is 
 the best food for babies for the reason that it contains all 
 the necessary elements of food mentioned on page 73, 
 namely, inorganic salts, albuminoids (casein or curd) and 
 hydrocarbons in the cream and sugar of the milk. 
 
 Let us then briefly consider the digestion in detail of a 
 mouthful of milk, since it contains all the ingredients neces- 
 sary for the nourishment of the body and all the essential 
 varieties of food that can be found on any table. Undi- 
 gested milk is poison, as many a poor baby has found to its 
 cost, but properly digested it forms bone, muscle, sinew, by 
 the aid of the germinal matter spoken of in Chapter I. Each 
 kind of germinal matter needs its appropriate nourishment, all 
 of which can be gathered from the curd, cream, and salts of 
 the milk. 
 
 First, as to the curd, which corresponds to the nitrogenous 
 foods of the adult. With the latter the nitrogenous food 
 requires to be reduced to small fragments by the teeth before 
 it descends the esophagus, or the back stairs to the kitchen. 
 Liquids escape this process, and immediately find their way 
 over the epiglottis (see Chapter VI) down into the stomach, 
 whose acid juices immediately clot it. If these clots are too 
 large, or firm, they cause distress, but if the milk is properly 
 acted upon it forms soft, fine curds, which are more digestible 
 than the original milk, for they contain their nitrogenous mat- 
 ter in a form to be readily acted upon by the gastric j uice. Gas- 
 tric juice is an acid fluid constantly secreted by glands located 
 in the membrane lining the inside of the stomach. These 
 are known as the peptic glands, and their duty is to prepare 
 the gastric juice, or fluid, which is a colorless, watery, acid 
 liquid containing from three to four parts in a thousand of pep- 
 sin. Pepsin is an animal ferment, and has the remarkable prop- 
 erty of transforming albuminoids into peptones. A solution of 
 peptone looks very like a solution of albumen, from which it 
 differs mainly in the fact that albumen is unable to pass 
 
80 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 through an animal membrane, while peptone can. On this 
 apparently trivial fact the use of animal food depends. If 
 
 it were otherwise all animal and 
 much vegetable food would have to 
 be given up, for unless it can be 
 transformed into something which 
 will nourish the body by passing 
 into the circulation such food 
 would be positively injurious. Un- 
 changed albuminoids would lie like 
 lead in the stomach, for albuminoid 
 bodies cannot pass through the coats 
 of the stomach into the blood, where 
 it can nourish and supply the 
 body's waste. Peptone is an hydra- 
 tion of the albumen, prepared, 
 by the pepsin of the stomach.*' 
 Thus peptonized, as we say, assimi- 
 lation can now go on by absorption 
 of the albuminoids which have been 
 peptonized, which pass as peptones 
 directly into the lacteals located in 
 the walls of the stomach. The ex- 
 act work done by the stomach was 
 for a long time a mystery to the 
 chemist; some esteeming it, as Hun- 
 ter says, a cooking pot, others a 
 mill, a churn, etc., until very recently the exact chemical 
 change occurring there is found to be simply the addition 
 of water to the albuminoids of the food — not a mixture 
 with water, for that takes place in the mouth ; but a 
 chemical union, or hydration, forming the peptones already 
 described. 
 
 But all of our food is not albuminoid, and hence not 
 digested in the stomach, whose fluids are only able to pep- 
 tonize the nitrogenous foods. t The starches have partly 
 been acted upon by the saliva in the mouth, and this trans- 
 
 Peptic Glands. 
 
 A, Under a low power ; d, duct ; n, 
 
 neck. — Klein. 
 
DlNING-RoOM AND SCULLIONS. 81 
 
 formation into glucose is further continued in the acid fluids 
 of the stomach, while the remainder of the food is in from two 
 to six hours converted into a thick fluid, consisting of solid, un- 
 digested particles, suspended in a yellowish, disagreeably smell- 
 ing liquid. This mixture is known as chyme, and is food now 
 prepared for further digestion in the intestinal canal, into which 
 it passes from the stomach by means of the pylorus, a purse- 
 like mouth which opens when the chyme is ready for intestinal 
 digestion. When in the intestines it becomes mixed with bile, 
 pancreatic fluid, and the juices from the various intestinal 
 glands. Each of these has some part to perform in perfect 
 digestion. The bile, for instance, prevents decomposition, and 
 emulsifies the fats, the pancreatic fluid completes the digestion 
 of the fats, and the intestinal fluids complete the digestion of the 
 albuminoids and sugars. The use of each of the digestive fer- 
 ments is Avell shown in the following table taken from Roberts: 
 
 TABLE OF DIGESTIVE FERMENTS. 
 
 NAME. FUNCTION. 
 
 1. Ptyalin, or salivary diastase, con- 1. Changes starch into dextrine and 
 
 tained in the saliva. glucose. 
 
 2. Pepsin contained in gastric juice. 2. In acid fluids changes albuminoids 
 
 into peptones. 
 
 3. Curdling ferment contained in 3. Coagulates casein. 
 
 gastric juice. 
 
 4. Trypsin contained in pancreatic 4. In alkaline solutions transforms 
 
 juice. proteids to peptones. 
 
 5. Curdling ferment found in pancre- 5. Coagulates milk casein. 
 
 atic juice. 
 
 G. Pancreatic diastase found in pan- 6. Changes starch into dextrine and 
 creatic juice. glucose. 
 
 7. Emulsive ferment found in pancre- 7. Emulsifies fats. 
 
 atic juice. 
 
 8. Bile poured into duodenum. 8. Assists in emulsifying fats. 
 
 9. Invertin found in intestinal juice. 9. Converts cane sugar into inverted 
 
 sugar. 
 10. Curdling ferment found in intes- 10. Coagulates casein. 
 tinal juice. 
 
 Digestion, then, is not as simple a thing as the proprietors 
 
 of the patent anti-dyspeptics would have you believe. It is 
 
 an exceedingly complex process, and any interference at any 
 
 stage of the process produces dyspepsia, which is the Greek 
 
 4* 
 
82 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 for indigestion. Eupepsia is the word for perfect digestion, 
 and any variation from this constitutes dyspepsia, which may 
 be of all grades from slight discomfort after eating to a 
 profound wretchedness which makes life a burden. It may 
 be a dyspepsia arising from failure to properly masticate 
 the food from lack of teeth, or haste, and can be remedied 
 only by false teeth, or greater care in eating; and unless 
 this is done no amount of artificial pepsin will cure the 
 difficulty. 
 
 Pepsin, by the way, is no new remedy, for the Chinese 
 from time immemorial have used a decoction of chicken 
 gizzards in just those cases where the modern physician 
 employs ingluvin manufactured from the same source, 
 but neither pepsin, ingluvin, lactopeptin, dyspepsin, nor any 
 of the vaunted panaceas for dyspepsia will accomplish their 
 work without the intelligent assistance of both patient and 
 physician. Chronic dyspepsia and sick headaches, which are 
 probably another manifestation of the same vice, are among 
 the most intractable of human ailments. No one acquires 
 either without prolonged errors in eating. Gluttony causes 
 as much, if a different kind, of distress as drunkenness, 
 and it is a form of intemperance to which intelligent people 
 are vastly more prone than indulgence in liquor. Others 
 than Methodist theological students might read to profit 
 John Wesley's rules on this subject, beginning with, " Are 
 you temperate in all things ? For instance, in food, do 
 you use only that kind and that degree which is best both 
 for body and soul ? Do you see the necessity of this ? Do 
 you eat no more at each meal than is necessary ? Are 
 you not heavy or drowsy after dinner?" It is not the 
 amount of food eaten, but that assimilated, which feeds the 
 body, and any excess over this is hurtful and harmful. We 
 possess about four millions of cooks, whose duty is to prepare 
 food for us, and so excellently will they do this if we furnish 
 them the proper materials that we ought to know nothing 
 more of their exploits than we do of the same class of 
 workers in a large hotel. Dyspepsia means a strike in the 
 
DlXING-RoOM AND SCULLIONS. 83 
 
 kitchen, and may be of any magnitude, from slight incon- 
 venience to absolute starvation. Usually the first evidence 
 of trouble in the human kitchen is loss of appetite, or anorexia, 
 as the doctors call it. 
 
 If now we were only wise enough to understand that alack 
 of appetite means that our cooks have been overtaxed and 
 are meditating further disturbance, happy would it be for 
 us and them, but, instead, we send down additional dainties 
 for them to dispose of. The next thing, if we persist in 
 this course, is a serious emeute below stairs, for which we are 
 solely to blame; for if we had refrained from eating for a 
 meal or two, as our loss of appetite counseled us to do, appetite 
 would have returned at the proper time, and we should have 
 been all the better for our temporary fast. Long ago old 
 Dr. Dewees wrote: "I am convinced that the value of absti- 
 nence in the treatment of acute disease is not fully appre- 
 ciated," and every physician since has had no lack of cases 
 corroborating this. Food in this country is so plentiful and 
 excellent that we eat too much, and where one poor unfort- 
 unate dies of starvation hundreds die of overeating. 
 
 According to Dr. Hunt, a person engaged in hard work 
 requires not more than four and a half ounces of meat, or its 
 equivalent, and about twenty-six ounces or two pounds of 
 well-buttered bread, or its equivalent, to efficiently perform 
 his daily work ; and this is rather below than above the 
 amount of meat, vegetables, etc., eaten in this country 
 by those engaged in sedentary pursuits. To enable the 
 digestive organs to perform this surplus work, condiments, 
 sauces, and artificial aids are generally employed, to the 
 permanent injury of the individual, ofie"n in the shape of 
 permanently disabled kidneys. (See Sewerage.) 
 
 Finally, there is what is known as nervous dyspepsia, a 
 disease of increasing frequency in our large cities. In these 
 cases the trouble seems to be not with the food, but with 
 the nerves which regulate the supply of gastric juice. 
 Excitement of any kind will bring a transient nervous anorexia, 
 and if the excitement be long-continued this loss of appe- 
 
84 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 tite may become permanent. It is one form of neurasthenia, 
 elsewhere spoken of (see Chapter VII), and needs similar treat- 
 ment. Drugs, tonics, and stimulants, too often resorted to 
 with temporary relief in these cases, are all useless until 
 some method is found to restore the exhausted nervous 
 system. Stimulants here are particularly hurtful, for they 
 inevitably inflict permanent injury on the already weakened 
 digestive organs. A glass of wine or a sip of something 
 stronger in such cases will often stir up a lagging appetite, 
 and enable one of these exhausted stomachs to dispose of a 
 fair meal which otherwise would have gone begging. But 
 such temporary relief is purchased at the price of further 
 exhaustion on the withdrawal of the stimulant, which unfort- 
 unately often is never withdrawn until the dyspeptic finds 
 himself in worse bondage to alcohol. 
 
 The exact relation of alcohol to food is a question that has 
 long and vehemently been argued over, and is not yet fully 
 settled. It can, however, be fairly said that its estimation 
 as a food has gradually diminished until now even its advo- 
 cates scarcely claim more than that alcoholic drinks take the 
 place of food, and are of value to those wasting from disease 
 or enduring great hardships. The last claim has never been 
 substantiated, but, on the contrary, many facts have been 
 educed which prove the exact reverse. The London Times, 
 which can hardly be supposed to be prejudiced in favor of 
 temperance, reports that the total abstainers on a recent 
 Arctic expedition bore the terrible severities of their long 
 sledge journeys better than those to whom grog was daily 
 served. The experience of one of these abstainers is so much 
 to the point that it is given in detail. 
 
 " Gore, it seems, had been an abstainer until he was twenty- 
 one years old, but in an unguarded moment while on the 
 sledge journeys he succumbed to the temptation and persua- 
 sion of his companions and took to grog. Previous to break- 
 ing his pledge Gore states that he could eat as well as any 
 one. In fact, after devouring his portion, he was in the 
 habit of looking about for more; but no sooner had he taken 
 
DINING-ROOM AND SCULLIONS. 85 
 
 to grog-drinking than he found his appetite to fail, and he 
 was deprived of the refreshing sleep which he had formerly- 
 enjoyed. He was the only Good Templar who joined the 
 expedition that was attacked with scurvy, and for this he 
 was no doubt indebted to his unfaithfulness. He gave stim- 
 ulants, he remarks, a fair trial, and he is now convinced that 
 it was the grog which did the mischief. It may be noticed 
 that the -testimony of the whole ship's company — doctors 
 and others included — is unanimous and conclusive against 
 the serving out of stimulants during the day. They emphat- 
 ically state that no work can be done upon the grog." 
 
 Furthermore, the medical profession generally believe that 
 alcohol is a poison, and as such produces its disturbance in 
 the body; and consequently that no healthy, well-fed man 
 requires or is better off for its use. So far all candid 
 physicians and temperance workers can agree, but there is as 
 yet an honest difference of opinion as to whether alcohol, like 
 other poisonous drugs, has its rightful place among the phy- 
 sician's weapons for fighting disease. The experiment is 
 being fairly tried in the temperance hospitals, in which dis- 
 eases are being treated without the use of alcohol in any 
 form whatever. What the final verdict will be it is too early 
 yet to predict; but whatever that verdict may be, it is sure 
 to confirm the statement that alcohol is at best a sharp and 
 dangerous tool and never to be used indiscriminately, espe- 
 cially by those of a fine nervous organization. The more 
 acute the nervous system, the greater the danger in using 
 this seductive anaesthetic. Alcohol has some brief stimulant 
 effect, but it is, in the main, an anaesthetic — that is, a drug 
 which lessens sensibility. 
 
 One of the first effects of liquor is to make a man tingle 
 pleasantly all over, or in other words it disturbs the' innerva- 
 tion of the skin, and soon disturbs its sensibility, so that the 
 drunken brute hardly knows when he is kicked and beaten. 
 The evil effects of alcohol upon the muscles and germinal 
 matter have elsewhere been spoken of, but the great danger 
 of alcoholic liquors is the effect which they have upon the 
 
86 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 nervous system and the inevitable loss of self-control which 
 their free use entails. No well man ever needs alcohol in 
 any form, and no sick one ought ever to have it except upon 
 a doctor's prescription, and then only during his advice, and 
 it is more than probable that both physician and patient 
 would fare better without its use, except in very rare 
 emergencies. 
 
 Bread and butter are far better food than any malt liquor, 
 for the latter contains only part of the elements necessary to 
 feed a man, all of which may be found in bread and butter. 
 Add to this one eighth meat or cheese, and you have about 
 the right proportions of the three classes of food, already 
 described, to form a nutritious diet. 
 
 By nutritious food we mean it should contain those ele- 
 ments that are necessary to make up a healthy body, and a 
 deficiency in any one of these will bring a correspondingly 
 deficient body. Chemists tell us that there are fifteen of the 
 elements found in the body, namely, oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, 
 nitrogen, phosphorus, sulphur, fluorine, calcium, iron, man- 
 ganese, silicon, etc., already given on page 73. Man cannot 
 live on these crude elements any more than he could build 
 a house of sand, clay, and water. He would starve to death 
 if he were fed only on just so much of these crude materials 
 as he has been in the habit of taking combined in his daily 
 food ; for none of the elements except oxygen and nitro- 
 gen are taken into the body in their free or uncombined 
 condition. These gases (oxygen and nitrogen), as we know, 
 supply the body with the air necessary for its ventilation and 
 the destruction of its waste product; but they are not food in 
 the sense in which we ordinarily employ the term, for food 
 must be something more than a mere chemical compound. 
 It must*be toothsome as well as nutritious, and it must please 
 the palate and the stomach, or the most scientifically con- 
 structed food in the world will not long nourish or satisfy a 
 human being. And herein is the great fault of the most 
 of patent infant foods ; they are constructed on thoroughly 
 scientific, but generally non-appetizing, principles. They 
 
DlNING-RoOM AND SCULLIONS. 87 
 
 contain exactly the amount of carbon, nitrogen, silicon, and 
 lime that the scientific infant ought to take for its proper 
 nourishment and growth, but, unfortunately, the average 
 human baby does not like the taste of them, and will have 
 none of them, and the scientific physician, sooner or later, 
 has to betake himself to old-fashioned milk or make out a 
 death certificate. Nevertheless, it is most emphatically true 
 that food, to be nutritious and sufficient, must contain all 
 these elements in their proper proportion, or there will be a 
 breaking down somewhere in the " body politic." 
 
 Less than two hundred years ago scurvy was one of the 
 most dreaded diseases on all the ships in the then known 
 world. Sailors, after being some time on shipboard, broke 
 out with the most disgusting sores, their hair and teeth fell 
 out, and their swollen and festering gums hardly enabled 
 them to crunch the salt meat and stale biscuit that were 
 their daily rations. Scurvy is simply the penalty of trying 
 to live without fresh meat and vegetables ; and so generally 
 is this now known that it has become an almost unknown 
 disease, for, by law, ship-owners are obliged to furnish their 
 crew with the proper preventives. 
 
 Furthermore, food to be nutritious must not contain any 
 dangerous ingredients added to it either by carelessness or 
 fraud, the latter of which is one of the crying sins of these 
 latter days. Hardly any thing that we eat, drink, or put on 
 but is adulterated. In fact, if we believe half what the 
 newspapers tell us, we take our lives in our hands every 
 time that we sit at our dinner or breakfast table. 
 
 All flour, say the public analysts, is adulterated with 
 alum and terra alba until eating it is scarcely more health- 
 ful than trying to digest powdered mill-stones, while the 
 yeast or baking-powder with which it is raised is said to be 
 a perfect chemist's shop of compounds improper to introduce 
 into a human body. And then, as to butter, it is a fact that 
 they turn out car-load after car-load of butter that is made 
 in the packing-house, and not at the dairy. Pretty good butter 
 it is too ; far better than much of the cheap stuff that is 
 
88 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 honestly and dirtily made from cows' milk ; for properly 
 prepared oleomargarine is a nutritious and healthful article 
 of diet, and one that has done much to cheapen the poor 
 man's breakfast table. And yet most of us honestly confess 
 that we would rather know what we are eating ; and it takes 
 some little moral fortitude to use a butter that you know is 
 made of beef suet. But it is not a dangerous substance, and 
 it is so well made that the best expert on the subject of butter 
 in the city of Chicago was deluded into buying a pail of 
 pure oleomargarine for his family use, and eating it too. On 
 the whole, we may count ourselves fortunate if we only find 
 oleomargarine in the way of adulteration in our butter ; for 
 in these latter days they have found ways of bleaching and 
 disinfecting even the most rancid and unpalatable butter so 
 that it may be put upon the market with any color, odor, or 
 taste desired ; but all such processes are dangerous and 
 hurtful to the consumer. 
 
 Meat, fortunately, cannot be adulterated, but they do say 
 that one of the largest packing firms in a modern Sodom util- 
 izes for its canned meats such scraps and refuse as they 
 cannot sell even to a Chicago boarding-house. Meat may be 
 diseased by long standing, and produce within itself alka- 
 loids that are hardly less poisonous than strychnia. This 
 is apt to happen in corning beef, when it is imperfectly 
 cured, so that every once in a while we read of epidemics of 
 poisoning that have followed the use of tainted meats. Un- 
 cooked sausages, leberwurst, etc., are especially prone to such 
 changes in warm climates ; and in fact uncooked or partially 
 cooked meat never should be used, except by the advice of 
 a. physician, for in this way tape-worms and trichina are 
 introduced into the system. 
 
 Our potatoes, perhaps, are safe, for no man has yet discov- 
 ered a method of profitably making an artificial potato, 
 though there was an enterprising genius that last winter put 
 upon the New York market an artificial egg that had not 
 the most distant acquaintance with a hen. Its shell was 
 made of plaster of Paris, the white of blood albumen, and 
 
DlNING-RoOM AND SCULLIONS. 89 
 
 the yelk of some unknown compound, and the whole was so 
 cleverly put together that thousands of them were sold when 
 eggs were highest, before the fraud was suspected. Con- 
 densed eggs, as they are called, are largely adulterated with 
 blood albumen and colored with chromate'of lead, so that 
 instead of being, like eggs, a proper, nutritious, and convenient 
 article of food, they are dangerous and poisonous. Several 
 cases of poisoning from lemon pies made with these con- 
 densed eggs are reported, and therefore desiccated eggs 
 should be relegated to the oblivion they deserve. 
 
 Bishop Asbury was in the habit of telling his young 
 preachers, when they grumbled over the uncleanliness of the 
 tables they were forced to put up with, that " a baked potato 
 and a hard-boiled egg are always clean and nutritious articles 
 of diet ; " but that was before the days of these artificial 
 eggs and Saratoga chip potatoes, which are sometimes pre- 
 pared, as we are told, from the refuse of the larger hotels 
 North, and shipped abroad in neat boxes for foreign con- 
 sumption only. 
 
 Suppose we turn in despair to our cup of coffee. We may 
 not find it much better, for the fact is that latterly not 
 more than one woman in a thousand knows how to make a 
 good cup of coffee. When you find the rare thousandth 
 woman, she cannot do it unless she is furnished coffee to 
 make it with, and I presume that a good three quarters of 
 all the coffee on the market is so largely adulterated that it 
 would take a competent chemist to find the percentage of 
 coffee contained in it. It was once thought that buying the 
 unbrowned coffee-berry you were sure to get a pure article, 
 but in these latter days the sons of Belial have contrived 
 imitations in plaster of Paris that would deceive the very 
 elect, in color, form, and every thing but taste. When it 
 comes to browning the berry, some Yankee has found that 
 the cheap and nutritious peanut can be browned to exactly 
 the same tint as the coffee bean, which, when split, it 
 closely resembles, and can be put upon the market at a far 
 less | >rice. It is said, furthermore, not to have the bad 
 
90 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 effect of wakefulness that belongs to the unadulterated 
 coffee ; and the same may be said of chicory coffee, rye 
 coffee, potato paring coffee, and all the endless variety of 
 adulterations that the high price of coffee has forced upon 
 the market ; and, worst of all, there seems at present to be 
 no satisfactory method of recognizing these adulterations 
 except the microscope in the hands of an expert. 
 
 Sugar has fared almost as badly in the contest between 
 honesty and illegitimate profits, for sugar is sold in the 
 markets at a less price than it can be honestly manufactured 
 from sugar-cane. Whole cargoes of white earth are brought 
 from Chili for this purpose, and car-load after car-load of 
 corn is worked up into glucose to adulterate syrup and mo- 
 lasses, to say nothing of the more dangerous use of poisonous 
 salts of tin that are used in making what is known as new 
 process sugar. And so the list might be almost indefinitely 
 prolonged ; and yet after all most of us are more frightened 
 than hurt by these adulterations of food. They are a crying 
 evil which needs the appointment of a State chemist, and 
 heavy penalties for any contamination of food either from 
 carelessness or fraud. But as yet the staple articles of food in 
 this country are good and cheap. The per diem cost of honestly 
 feeding an inmate of our State institutions is from fifteen 
 to twenty-five cents. Atkinson, in a recent article on the 
 subject of food, estimates that twenty-four cents daily is 
 sufficient to feed an adult in this country, divided as follows : 
 
 Meat, \ lb 10 cents. 
 
 Eggs 5 " 
 
 Bread, J lb 2} « 
 
 Milk, \ pint 5 " 
 
 Vegetables 2% " 
 
 Sugar and syrup 2 cents. 
 
 Tea and coffee 1 " 
 
 Salt, spices, etc 1£ a 
 
 Total 24 cents. 
 
 So that for less than a quarter of a dollar daily the ma- 
 chinery may be run and the waste repaired of the houses in 
 which we live, for, as says another, " man, in a strictly ma- 
 terialistic point of view, is an engine, fire-box, boiler, and fuel 
 complete. The carbonaceous foods are the fuel, and muscu- 
 lar contraction and heat are the power and results produced 
 
Dining-Room and Scullions. 91 
 
 by its combustion. This combustion of food is not accom- 
 panied with flame, but its results are none the less real 
 in the way of heat and carbon dioxide gas which is produced 
 whenever carbon is burned, whether inside or outside of 
 the body. Between 1,200 and 1,300 grains of this gas, ac- 
 cording to Huxley, are given off daily from the body; 
 but as we do not eat charcoal directly this gas must be 
 formed from the carbon in our food, in which form we consume 
 nearly seven ounces of charcoal daily. A white spongy loaf 
 little resembles black, brittle charcoal, but the loaf may easily 
 be converted into the latter by simply letting it bake at a 
 high enough temperature to drive off all of the water of the 
 dough and leave its carbon only behind as a crisp, brittle 
 mass, no longer fit for eating, but excellent for burning and 
 keeping indefinitely unless put in the fire. In fact, pure car- 
 bon is, except by heat, one of the most unalterable things in 
 the world. That is why the loaves of bread baked in Pom- 
 peii more than eighteen hundred years ago may be seen 
 to-day in the museum at Naples, carbonized like charcoal, 
 and hence almost indestructible. They will show you in 
 Zurich blackened wheat, burned, long before the destruction 
 of Pompeii, in one of their Swiss lake villages built on 
 piles over the water. Possibly the whole village was con- 
 sumed at the same time; but, be that as it may, these black- 
 ened bits of grain, mixed with similarly carbonized domestic 
 utensils, have been preserved under the waters of the lake 
 hundreds and hundreds of years unchanged, for carbon under 
 such circumstances is one of the most unchangeable of all 
 substances. And fortunately it is so, for otherwise in course 
 of time the letters in our books would have all faded 
 away and Birmingham and its coal mines disappeared in 
 thin air. 
 
 But unchanging as is carbon outside of the body, except at a 
 heat higher than the thermometer measures in the mouth, some- 
 how these carbonaceous foods are oxidized within us just 
 rapidly enough neither to burn us to a fever nor, in health, 
 ever to leave us uncomfortably cool. We have for the house 
 
92 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 in which we live a perfectly regulated automatic furnace 
 and engine which runs our machinery by burning the refuse 
 of the body, something as the engine at a saw-mill is run by 
 burning the useless slabs. If now these slabs should take 
 fire and spread to the rest of the mill we have a fair com- 
 parison of fever, which is an ungoverned combustion, beyond 
 the control of the inhabitant of the house. Often he is to 
 blame for the accumulation of refuse in the house, to remove 
 which fever comes, but the conflagration once under way 
 he is powerless to stay it, for the heat-regulating center, ac- 
 cording to H. C. Wood, is located in the brain, but is entirely 
 involuntary in its action. In fact, the physiologists are find- 
 ing altogether too many of these nerve-centers for the com- 
 fort of the ordinary student of ph}^siology, and, worse than all, 
 they are burdening them with such names as thermogenetic 
 and thermolytic, meaning by the former heat-producing and 
 by the latter heat-discharging. They have also coined an- 
 other word, thermotaxy, which is used to express the adjust- 
 ment of heat within the body. " The temperature of the 
 body," says Dr. Macalister in the last Croonian Lectures, " is 
 due to the action of a heat-generating mechanism in the body, 
 the chief source of heat being changes in the muscles. The 
 loss of heat is controlled by a heat-losing mechanism, mainly 
 associated with vaso-motor and respiratory activity. The 
 balance between heat-production and heat-loss is maintained 
 by a heat-adjusting apparatus. The three mechanisms are 
 successively evolved as we ascend in the animal scale. Cold- 
 blooded animals have little more than a thermolytic or heat- 
 losing mechanism. Infants have only the thermogenetic and 
 thermolytic, there being hardly any adjusting mechanism, as is 
 shown by the instability of their temperature. Fever is a 
 dissolution process — the last mechanism evolved, the thermo- 
 taxic, gives way first, then the thermogenetic, and lastly the 
 thermolytic. Or, in plainer English, the heat engine loses 
 its governor and runs wild. Conversely, when the patient 
 convalesces thermolysis is first restored to normal, then ther- 
 mogenesis, then thermotaxy." Warming the body is a more 
 
DlNlNG-RoOM AND SCULLIONS. 
 
 93 
 
 complex process than it was once supposed, for it requires other 
 and more delicate adjustments than simply swallowing so 
 much food like shoveling coal into a furnace. Fortunately 
 these adjustments are beyond our powers, or we should burn 
 ,-up from carelessness or freeze o' nights. Heat, like life, is 
 above food, and science reiterates the biblical advice to take 
 no " worry " over what we shall eat and what we shall drink, 
 for if we follow the teachings of common sense we will eat 
 sufficient nutritious and properly cooked food. " O fool, do 
 not gormandize, neither stint yourself to a scanty allowance. 
 Nature will see to it that the body is kept in repair, and that 
 fuel sufficient to supply its engines will be absorbed, if you 
 but follow her dictates." 
 
 Sympathetic Ganglia and Large Vessels of the Chest. 
 
9-i 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE WHEEL AT THE CISTERN. 
 
 In Chapter III the preparation of food in the twenty odd 
 feet of kitchen with its four million cooks has been described. 
 But the best cooked food must be eaten promptly or it be- 
 comes worse than useless; hence arrangements have been 
 made to deliver that for the body, after it has been properly 
 prepared, in the fraction of a minute. The agents by which it 
 is accomplished are the villi of the intestines, the lymphatics, 
 and the heart, with its arteries and veins. The chyme, already 
 described (see page 81), after its preparation for food, is 
 taken by a multitude of tiny absorbents which line the intes- 
 tinal walls. Though they 
 
 are identical with the lym- 
 phatics, hereafter to be de- 
 scribed, they are called lac- 
 teals, for the reason that 
 when they are filled Avith 
 absorbed chyme, now called 
 chyle, they appear as if filled 
 with milk (lac, in Latin). 
 These lacteals soon unite to 
 form larger trunks, which 
 increase in size by aggrega- 
 tion until they unite to form 
 a vessel about the size of a 
 goose quill, known as the tho- 
 racic duct, which runs along the spinal column and at last emp- 
 ties its contents into the venous circulation, near the junction 
 of the left jugular and subclavian veins (see page 93), whence 
 the chyle and lymph, which have been added to it, are carried 
 
 Absorbents of the Colon. 
 
The Wheel at the Cistern. 95 
 
 with the blood the round of its circulation. Lymph is chem- 
 ically the same as blood serum, and circulates throughout the 
 body through what are known as lymph-vessels, or the lym- 
 phatic system of vessels. These are exceedingly delicate tubes, 
 whose coats are so thin that the fluid they contain can be 
 readily seen through their walls. The lymphatics are the 
 general absorbents of the body. The lacteals are the lym- 
 phatics whose especial duty is to take up the digested food 
 from the intestine, for lacteals and lymphatics are identical 
 in structure. All parts of the body which are supplied with 
 capillary blood-vessels are also supplied with lymphatics, 
 which are so numerous that could they be injected with 
 quicksilver the surface of the body would appear like a mir- 
 ror. Lymphatics also originate from the inner surfaces of 
 all of the cavities of the body and most of its organs, except 
 brain substance, the spinal cord, cartilage, tendons, nails, and 
 hairs, which are destitute of lymphatic vessels and glands. 
 
 The lymphatic glands are small, oval bodies, varying in 
 size from a small pea to an almond, located along the tract 
 of the lymphatic vessels. In fact, the lymphatic vessels pass 
 directly through these lymphatic glands, which act appar- 
 ently as filters for the lymph as it 
 passes through them. As may be seen 
 by the cut, they are admirably arranged 
 for this purpose, the multitude of their 
 divisions (trabeeulce) necessitating a 
 slow flow and an efficient straining of 
 the lymph as it passes through. The 
 lymphatic glands are numerous in the 
 mesentery, groin, axilla, and neck, 
 section through the Medulla where they are especially prone to en- 
 of a Lymphatic Glan _ d ^. n large. What are familiarly known as 
 
 "kernels," are these lymphatic glands 
 engorged with foreign matters. Tf there is a sufficient quan- 
 tity of i liis to se1 ii]) inflammation in the gland, it becomes 
 enlarged, red, and tender, and may go on to form an absc< 
 If the enlargement is less, the gland may simply remain 
 
96 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 swollen, distinctly visible, and unless properly treated may 
 continue in this condition for years, giving rise to what is 
 known as scrofula (literally, pig-neck). Physicians are not 
 yet agreed as to the cause of scrofula, but, what is more im- 
 portant, generally agree that scrofula can be cured, provided 
 it be taken in hand sufficiently early. Enlarged glands about 
 the neck — except those following diphtheria or scarlet-fever — 
 should always be considered of sufficient importance to re- 
 quire medical advice ; for these enlarged glands are usu- 
 ally the forerunners of other scrofulous manifestations. In 
 Part II may be found some general directions for the care 
 of those thus affected, which, if properly followed, will more 
 than repay all time thus given, for old scrofulous ulcers and 
 fistula? are among the most persistent and annoying of ail- 
 ments. 
 
 The lymphatic fluid, so named from its resemblance to 
 water {lympha), circulates, or, more properly, percolates, 
 through all the tissues of the body, by means of an intermin- 
 able network of lymphatics, and the perivascular spaces. Thus 
 all of the body is supplied both with blood and lymph by 
 means of the two circulatory systems of the body; namely, 
 the lymphatic and the sanguinous, or that containing the blood. 
 The lymphatics differ from arteries and veins in that the latter 
 unite to form trunks of increasing size, whereas the lymphatics 
 pursue, as it were, an independent course, not enlarging much 
 in diameter, though they freely communicate with each other. 
 Moreover, the fluid which is constantly passing through the 
 veins performs its circuit under the impulse of the heart's ac- 
 tion, while the lymphatic fluid is propelled solely by the 
 action of the walls of the lymphatic vessels, whose exact ac- 
 tion is not yet definitely understood. The structure of these 
 lymphatic vessels is not unlike that of the smaller veins, ex- 
 cept that the lymphatics are more delicate and transparent, 
 though their two coats may be recognized, and in the case of 
 the thoracic duct separated. 
 
 As may be inferred from what has previously been said in 
 regard to the circulation of lymph, the lymphatic vessels 
 
The Wheel at the Cisteex. [i , 
 
 have a propulsive power of their own, the absorbents having 
 been seen to contract and propel their contents with consid- 
 erable power, independent of pressure or motion communi- 
 cated from other parts of the body; and this motion is aided 
 by the presence of valves in the course of the lymphatics, 
 one or two always being found where the absorbents open 
 into the veins, to prevent regurgitation of blood. 
 
 There is much yet to be learned concerning the lymphatics 
 and their contents; but we may summarize our present knowl- 
 edge as follows: 
 
 Chyle is the fluid contained in the lacteals or the lymphat- 
 ics of the intestines. This fluid is transparent after fasting, 
 but milky during digestion, owing to the presence of minute 
 particles of fat. Chyle taken from the thoracic duct is dis- 
 tinctly yellowish or pinky white in color, with a salty taste; 
 and after its removal from the body forms a pinkish white 
 clot, from which an opalescent fluid is squeezed out as the 
 clot grows firmer. 
 
 Lymph differs from chyle in that the former contains no 
 fat, but is a watery fluid containing what are known as lymph 
 corpuscles, which are probably identical with the colorless 
 blood corpuscles. In fact, some believe that these corpuscles 
 are formed during the passage of lymph through its vessels. 
 In short we find: 
 
 1. That lymph and chyle are substantially alike, except 
 that chyle contains fat, and lymph none, or nearly none. 
 
 2. Lymph and chyle are substantially like blood, the 
 difference being only one of degree. In fact, these liquids 
 are possibly rudimental blood, containing corpuscles in proc- 
 ess of development into red corpuscles. The difference be- 
 tween the lymph and chyle and the blood becomes less and 
 less as the two former pass through the thoracic duct, or, in 
 other words, as they approach the place where they are to 
 be mingled with the blood. 
 
 '■'>. Blood, lymph and chyle agree in that they contain 
 fibrine and coagulate spontaneously, although the clot of 
 lymph and chyle is softer than that of blood. In this prop- 
 
98 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 erty of spontaneous coagulation they differ from all other 
 animal fluids. 
 
 What is coagulation ? A Latin term for the process of 
 clotting; a phenomenon that, fortunately for us, occurs in the 
 blood whenever it is exposed to the air. In the days when 
 bleeding was part of the treatment for almost every disease 
 great stress was laid upon the appearance of the blood clot 
 which formed in the basin wherein the blood was caught. 
 Latterly it has been learned that the appearance of the clot 
 is largely due to the amount of fibrine it contains, and 
 that the coagulation of the blood depends upon the fibrine 
 found there, or, more properly, formed there; for there is 
 reason to believe that fibrine does not exist as such in the 
 blood, but is formed by a chemical reaction between sub- 
 stances found in the blood plasma and blood serum. 
 
 The difference between these two fluids is this: blood 
 plasma is the fluid in which the corpuscles, hereafter to be 
 described, float, while blood serum is the fluid which sep- 
 arates from clotted blood upon standing; or blood serum is 
 blood minus the clot, or blood plasma minus its fibrine, if 
 we accept the former idea that fibrine is held in solution 
 in the watery part of the blood. Fibrine can readily be 
 obtained in long threads by whipping fresh blood with 
 twigs, but the latest teaching on the subject is that it is not 
 held in solution, or only in part. It is now supposed that 
 during the whipping fibrine is formed by the reaction of 
 two other substances (fibrino-plastin and fibrinogen). One 
 of these can be readily obtained from any serous exudate of 
 the body, and can be kept indefinitely without coagulation 
 unless blood serum be added to it, when clotting immediately 
 takes place. 
 
 Thus it seems proven that the coagulation of the blood 
 and the formation of fibrine are caused primarily by the inter- 
 action of two substances (or two modifications of the same 
 substance), fibrino-plasters and fibrinogen, the former of which 
 exists in the serum of the blood and in some tissues of the 
 body; while the latter is known at the p resent only in the 
 
The Wheel at the Cisterx. 99 
 
 plasma of the blood, of the lymph and of the chyle, and fluids 
 derived from them. 
 
 Fibrine is insoluble in water, alcohol, and ether, soluble in 
 dilute alkalies forming albuminates. When digested with a 
 two per cent, solution of muriatic acid, fibrine is transformed 
 into a semi-transparent, jelly-like mass. By the action of 
 gastric juice, fibrine is converted into peptone, the change 
 being a chemical one and not one of simple solution. If the 
 gastric juice contains but little pepsin the products of the 
 digestion of fibrine with this fluid will be precipitated by 
 neutralizing the solution. By the action of pancreatic juice 
 fibrine is transformed into peptone, for which see Chapter III. 
 But however formed, or digested, fibrine is the most impor- 
 tant element found in the blood, as regards the preservation 
 of life. If it were not for this substance, in the blood or 
 formed from it, the slightest nick into a blood-vessel would 
 necessarily cause death; for the only reason that blood ever 
 ceases to flow from such an opening is that the passage of 
 the blood over the edges of the artery causes a clot of blood 
 and fibrine in the wound and thus stanches the flow. Later 
 the coloring matter of the blood-clot is taken up, and the 
 fibrine becomes organized, as it is called, or so like natural 
 tissue that it can indefinitely serve in its stead, and thus the 
 gap is permanently filled. Occasionally we find persons in 
 whom the process is imperfectly performed, and hence they 
 are known as bleeders, because the slightest wound becomes 
 a grave source of danger from their inability to check the 
 bleeding originating therefrom. As trivial a matter as draw- 
 ing a tooth may cost such a bleeder his life, for the oozing 
 may persist from the tooth socket until, death ensues from 
 exhaustion. The late Duke of Albany died from a like 
 trivial accident, for he was one of those in whom a scratch 
 is a serious event, and so would it be with all of us if it were 
 not for this property of spontaneous coagulation in blood 
 exposed to the air. Blood will also coagulate within the 
 vein- niter death, but this takes place more; slowly than in 
 blood drawn from the body. When from any reason the 
 
100 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 fibrine contracts less rapidly than usual, a white layer forms 
 on the surface of the clot, consisting of fibrine and white 
 corpuscles, forming what is known as the buffy coat. This 
 buffy coat contracts more rapidly than the rest of the clot, 
 so that a cup-like depression is found on the surface of the 
 clot, which is then said to be cupped. These coagulatory 
 changes are hastened by a variety of circumstances, among 
 the more important of which are : 
 
 Sex. IVomoSs blood coagulates more rapidly than the 
 blood of men, but the clot is less firm. Embryonic blood 
 coagulates imperfectly. Arterial blood coagulates more rap- 
 idly than venous. 
 
 A warmth of 100 to 120 degrees F. (37.8 to 48.0 degrees 
 C.) promotes coagulation. A higher temperature than this 
 retards it, while a temperature of 200 degrees F. (93.3 de- 
 grees C.) stops coagulation altogether, even after the blood 
 has been cooled. Conversely, a cold of 40 degrees F. 
 (4.5 degrees C.) entirely stops coagulation ; but coagula- 
 tion will, under these circumstances, take place as well as ever 
 after the normal temperature of the blood has been restored. 
 
 Motio?} retards coagulation, but rest promotes it. 
 
 The multiplication of points of contact promotes coagula- 
 tion. Thus we whip blood with a bundle of twigs to coag- 
 ulate the fibrine. Or, again, the blood coagulates more rapidly 
 in the rough cavities of the heart than in the smooth veins 
 and arteries. Conversely, coagulation is retarded by a variety 
 of circumstances, some of which have already been men- 
 tioned, among which are: 
 
 (a) Cold, which, according to some experimenters, if suf- 
 ficient, entirely prevents. 
 
 (b) TJie addition of soluble matter to the blood. Many 
 saline substances, and more especially sulphate of soda and 
 common salt, the alkaline hydrates, carbonates, and acetates 
 dissolved in the blood in sufficient quantity, prevent its 
 coagulation ; but coagulation sets in when water is added so 
 as to dilute the saline solution. The same is true of dilute 
 acids, potassic and calcic nitrates, and ammonia chloride. 
 
The Wheel at the Cistern. 101 
 
 (c) Contact with living tissue retards coagulation, while 
 contact with dead or foreign tissue favors it. Thus we pass 
 a thread through an aneurism to form a nucleus for coagula- 
 tion and to assist the cure. Blood drawn into a basin begins 
 to coagulate where it touches the sides of the basin, and a 
 wire acts like a thread in an aneurism. 
 
 (d) Large dilution with water retards, if the quantity- 
 used is greater than twice the bulk of the blood. 
 
 (e) Exclusion of air retards, and certain gases apparently 
 prevent entirely coagulation of the blood. 
 
 (f) The mode of death. Thus in death by asphyxia, 
 where the blood is imperfectly aerated, coagulation is re- 
 tarded. According to Hunter, the same result occurs in 
 death from lightning, blows on the stomach, over-exertion, 
 fits of anger. 
 
 Some little space has been given to the matter of the coagu- 
 lation of the blood for the reason that the explanation of co- 
 agulation in many of our text-books is imperfect, and second- 
 ly because we have no more striking instance of Almighty 
 foresight than the formation of these tiny white threads in 
 freshly flowing blood. These soft curly bits seem a very ineffi- 
 cient means to stay an alarming hemorrhage, but feeble as 
 they appear they are the threads upon which life literally 
 hangs, for science knows no means by which bleeding can be 
 permanently arrested without the aid of these threads of 
 fibrine. Fibrine and coagulable lymph, which is nearly the 
 same thing, are nature's carpenters and joiners to repair the 
 breaks made in the house in which we live, which, without 
 their aid, would become too dilapidated for habitation before 
 its occupant had passed through childhood. No other article 
 of dress wears half so long or well as the body, for none other 
 of our clothes can repair themselves as does this house of 
 clay. Let us look for a moment at how this is done. 
 
 The best thing that can happen to a wound is to have it heal, 
 as the Burgeons say, by first intention, that is, that its edges 
 shall immediately grow together after the bleeding has been 
 checked. The arrest of bleeding is due, as has already been 
 
102 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 said, to the formation of a clot in the rough edges of the cut 
 blood-vessels, whose inner coat is clastic, and retracts so as 
 to form an edge for the formation of a clot. This acts as a 
 plug within the bleeding vessel, if not too large, and thus 
 stops the hemorrhage. If now the edges of the wound can 
 be accurately brought together, in the course of an hour or 
 two they become reddened and slightly swollen. This swell- 
 ing is due to an interference in the circulation of blood in the 
 part, which causes the exudation of plastic material through 
 the walls of the blood-vessels — to be described later in this 
 chapter. This plastic material is like the temporary callus, 
 described in connection with broken bones (see Chapter II), 
 and like it glues together the sides of the wound, provided 
 there is no foreign substance to interfere and the edges of the 
 wound have not been bruised or otherwise injured. This is 
 the result which every surgeon hopes to obtain when he care- 
 fully cleanses and stitches together the edges of a fresh 
 cut, whether made by himself or accident. Sometimes 
 the process is so perfect that there is absolutely no scar, but 
 more frequently a narrow white line can be seen after adhe- 
 sion has taken place. This whiteness is due to a destruction 
 of the skin — as is seen also in the pits of small-pox; for true 
 skin is never reproduced, but the gap filled in as best it may 
 be with plastic lymph, which at first is soft and sticky as 
 fresh glue, but later hardens into a tough white substance, 
 known as cicatrix, the Latin name for scar. Much else of 
 the body is replaced every few months, but a cicatrix is un- 
 changeable, for it contains no germinal matter — and hence 
 remains as more or less of a deformity during life. But a 
 scar is better than a gaping wound, and is the best result 
 that can be hoped from a large wound, or an extensive burn, 
 for if repair does not take place in this way the only thing 
 that can then be done is to trust to the slower process of 
 union by granulation. This is what usually happens after 
 serious burns, or extensive injuries, where the edges of the 
 wound are too far separated to be glued together by plastic 
 lymph. In these cases we find the swelling about the neigh- 
 
The Wheel at the Cistern. 103 
 
 boring blood-vessels so great that not only plastic lymph es- 
 capes through their walls, but also the lymph, blood and pus 
 corpuscles. Or in other words the wound is said to maturate 
 and discharge pus. Beneath this pus, granulations — " proud 
 flesh " — form in the shape of rosy red mounds that en- 
 deavor by their rapid growth to fill up the gap, until on a 
 level with the surrounding skin, which it at last unites by a 
 cicatrix, exactly as in the case of union by first intention. 
 At least that is what is sought to be done, but sometimes the 
 strength of the patient gives out before the process is com- 
 pleted, either from a too profuse discharge of pus, or too 
 srreat inflammation. And what is this inflammation so 
 greatly dreaded in a wound? Inflammation, according to 
 our present theories, is a conflict between the white blood cor- 
 puscles and minute forms of life, so tiny that they cannot be 
 seen except through a microscope. These beings are known 
 as microbes, and will be more fully described in Chapter VIII; 
 for the present it is sufficient to remember that they lodge 
 and grow in every fresh cut. Their presence there produces 
 the heat, pain, and swelling of an inflaming wound, in which 
 the white blood corpuscles are doing their utmost to over- 
 whelm these invaders. Inflammation then is, as Mr. Sutton 
 well puts it, " a battle between the microbes and the white 
 blood corpuscles; the latter are the defending army, whose 
 roads and base of supplies are the blood-vessels." Re- 
 cent experiments seem to show that the method adopted 
 by the white blood corpuscle to dispose of its adversary is 
 to envelope the attacking microbe and devour it. These de- 
 vouring white corpuscles constitute the pus or matter so freely 
 discharged from an inflamed wound. 
 
 There is no more wonderful thing in our wonderful bodies 
 than these same white eorpuseles, or leucocytes, as they 
 an' sometimes called. Twenty-five hundred of them must 
 be laid in a line together before they measure an inch, but 
 they are undoubtedly the most truly vital parts of our bodies. 
 These bits of colorless matter, which occupy only one twenty- 
 five-hundredth of an inch in diameter each, arc in incessant 
 
104 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 movement, not only from their being carried forward by the 
 current of the blood, but from independent motion of their 
 
 Leucocytes. 
 
 own. When watched beneath the microscope they slowly 
 writhe and twist like an impatient school-boy kept in after 
 school. The cut well shows these changes of form, which 
 occur from movements in every part of the white corpuscle, 
 contracting and dilating, like one of the lower forms of 
 organisms (amoeba) which are found in stagnant water. 
 
 While living and moving the structure of the white cor- 
 puscles can be ascertained with difficulty, if at all; but by 
 largely diluting blood with water or weak acetic acid the 
 vitality of these moving bodies is destroyed and they swell 
 up, and now they are seen to be roundish sacks with very 
 thin walls which hold within them a colorless fluid contain- 
 ing more or less granular matter, which is gathered together 
 in an irregular form in the center. Huxley believes this cen- 
 tral body is the red corpuscle, hereafter to be described, 
 which is set free by the bursting of the sack of the white 
 corpuscle. 
 
 Whether these white corpuscles bear this relation to the 
 red corpuscles is still under dispute. Dalton thinks there is 
 no evidence of any transformation of the white corpuscles 
 into the red either in man or the lower animals, while Huxley, 
 as we have seen, inclines to the belief that " the red corpus- 
 cle is simply the nucleus of the colorless corpuscle some- 
 what enlarged, flattened from side to side, changed by the 
 development within itself of a red coloring matter. ... In 
 other words, the red corpuscle is a nucleus free." Others be- 
 lieve the red originate in the spleen, and others think the red 
 marrow of the bones converts protoplasmic marrow cells into 
 red corpuscles. Nor do we know much more about the 
 
The Wheel at the Cistern. lod 
 
 origin of the white corpuscles except that they possibly be- 
 gin their existence as the lymph corpuscles already described. 
 Where then the white corpuscle originates, or whither it is 
 going, we know but little more than that it is a form of 
 germinal matter, vital, moving, vigilant to beat back the in- 
 visible foes with which the body is constantly assailed, and 
 possibly performing other duties as well. 
 
 According to Klein, some of these white corpuscles are 
 stationed in the lymphatic glands, where they lie in wait in 
 their meshes to devour inflammatory and other products as 
 they are caught in the filters, but the bulk of these colorless 
 corpuscles are constantly wheeling to and fro, backward and 
 forward, through the blood-vessels, as it was once thought, 
 aimlessly; but, if we accept MetshnikofTs theories, they are 
 under arms to repel bacterial invaders. This observer 
 has carefully studied the behavior of certain of the bacteria 
 in the blood of the lower animals. Where it was found 
 these animals were not susceptible to the diseases caused 
 by bacteria, it was found that the white corpuscles en- 
 veloped these lower forms of life within themselves, and 
 thus prevented their multiplication, but when the white cor- 
 puscles failed to do this the animal experienced the disease 
 in all its virulence. If this holds true for man, our health 
 and life even hang on these invisible squirming points of 
 matter far more than it pleases our pride to think. They 
 are our Swiss body-guards, whose ceaseless vigilance makes 
 life possible, by giving up their lives in the defense of the 
 house in which we live. 
 
 But the blood has other duties than simply to patch a flaw 
 and beat back bacterial invaders. The crimson color, greasy 
 feel, and characteristic odor of fresh blood are known to all, 
 but few have any just idea of what an exceedingly complex 
 compound blood really is. " Red as blood " is one of the old- 
 est of similes, but the microscope shows us that blood is in re- 
 ality not red, but a colorless fluid in which float an innumer- 
 able number of amber disks, which, when gathered together 
 in mass, give blood its color. This color varies with the 
 
106 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 source from which the blood is obtained, for blood spurting 
 from an artery is florid red, while that which flows from 
 an opened vein is purplish B 
 
 in tint. This variation in -^ 
 
 color is due to changes in 
 each of the red corpuscles, 
 whose numbers are almost 
 inconceivable, for a cubic 
 inch of blood contains sev- 
 enty times as many red cor- 
 puscles as the world does Corpuscles of Human Blood. 
 inhabitants. Nevertheless, (Magnified about eoo diameters.) 
 each of these is well worth a. Red corpuscles: a, a corpuscle seen 
 Our careful Study beneath edgeways ; b, a corpuscle in an altered state, 
 . J . arising from pressure. A small spheroidal 
 the microscope, where it red corpuscle, such as may be frequently met 
 
 must be made* for the red with in the Dl00d « is represented beside tbe 
 
 larger discoidal ones, 
 corpuscles are even smaller jj. Colorless corpuscles: a, a colorless cor- 
 
 (one thirty-two-hundredths P uscle acted u P° n °y diluted acetic acid, 
 
 P , \ J , , , . showing its nucleus, 
 
 or an inch) than the white. 
 
 But they are no less important to the body, for if the white 
 corpuscles may be likened to body-guards, red corpuscles are 
 liveried servants, ceaselessly hurrying to and fro to feed the 
 germinal matter of the body. 
 
 The French call the blood "running flesh," and aptly ; for 
 flesh or muscle is made up of a multitude of stationary, 
 waiting servants. In the blood we find the corpuscles taking 
 the pface of the muscular stria, or checkers, already described. 
 These blood corpuscles are the w r aiters in this hotel in which 
 we live, and they are kept exceedingly busy, for they are 
 only given about two minutes to make their entire round. 
 They start out from the lungs, as we shall hereafter see, 
 very ruddy and jolly from their draughts of fresh air, but as 
 they hurry onward, exchanging their surplus oxygen for ref- 
 use carbonic dioxide, they at last become blue and overload- 
 ed, and finally stagger into the air-cells of the lungs, just in 
 time to save themselves and us from death by asphyxia. So 
 accurately is the whole matter arranged that a few minutes' 
 
The Wheel at the Cistern. 107 
 
 delay anywhere along the line is matter of serious importance 
 to all concerned. This change in the color of the blood can 
 be readily shown by winding several turns of twine tightly 
 about the root of a finger. In a few seconds it loses its rosy 
 tint and becomes dusky and swollen. If the experiment is 
 persisted in long enough, and the twine tightly enough wound, 
 the finger may actually mortify, or die from lack of blood, or 
 rather lack of aerated blood, for no other will feed and keep 
 alive germinal matter. Aerated blood, then, differs from blue 
 blood in that the red corpuscles of the former contain oxygen, 
 and in the latter the oxygen is largely replaced by carbon diox- 
 ide gas, which changes the tint of the red corpuscle from amber 
 to blue, owing to the effect that these gases produce upon 
 one of the constituents (haemoglobin) of the red corpuscle. 
 Haemoglobin is an iron compound, of which there is said to 
 be enough in the blood to enable a sentimental Frenchman to 
 make a mourning iron finger-ring from the blood of his friend. 
 Haemoglobin is the most important chemical constituent of 
 the red corpuscles of the higher animals, for in man, the dog, 
 pig, and ox, the red corpuscles are almost entirely pure haemo- 
 globin, and in fact, solution of hemoglobin behaves almost 
 exactly like blood in regard to its change of color with 
 various gases. A watery solution of haemoglobin has the 
 bright red color of arterial blood, and like it contains oxygen, 
 so loosely held in combination that it can be removed by an 
 air-pump. If a current of nitrogen, hydrogen, or carbon 
 dioxide gas is sent through a solution of haemoglobin it 
 Loses its bright red color and takes on the hue of venous 
 blood. If now this solution of haemoglobin be shaken with 
 the aif, oxygen is absorbed and the solution again becomes 
 bright red, and the change may be indefinitely repeated. 
 So then we conclude thai the change in the color of the blood 
 corpuscles i^ not due to their change in form, as was once 
 taught, but is dependent on the relative oxidation of its 
 haemoglobin, or blood-coloring matter. Thus, in arterial 
 blood the haemoglobin is oxidized and of a scarlet color, while 
 in venous blood a part of the haemoglobin is deoxidized and 
 
108 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 of a purple color. Possibly the physical condition of the cor- 
 puscles, and also the presence of carbonic acid, may be 
 elements in the case ; nevertheless, there can be but little 
 doubt that the change of color is primarily, if not entirely, 
 due to the oxidation and deoxidation of the hemoglobin. 
 
 To recapitulate, the blood is to the naked eye a crimson- 
 red fluid, but under the microscope it is found to be in reality 
 a colorless fluid in which float a multitude of minute bodies, 
 to which the name of corpuscles has been given. These are 
 of various sizes and shapes, the largest (one twenty-five- 
 hundredths of an inch), being known as Avhite or colorless 
 corpuscles. These are probably identical with lymph and 
 pus corpuscles, whose functions have already been described. 
 The red corpuscles are the oxygen carriers for the body, and 
 are more numerous and smaller than the white corpuscles. 
 The red corpuscles make up about one half of the bulk of 
 the blood, and in shape closely resemble a microscopic muffin 
 — and a heavy one at that, for its top and bottom are sunken 
 so as to make the edge of the muffin biconcave; hence when 
 viewed edgewise they appear as rods with slightly expanded 
 ends. Their transverse diameter is from one three-thousandth 
 to one thirty-two-hundredth of an inch, and their consistence 
 apparently about that of a stiff jelly, for if watched beneath 
 the microscope the red corpuscles are found first to fluctuate 
 and then to arrange themselves in piles, like rouleaux of coin, 
 adhering to each other by their broad surfaces, very likely 
 from the coagulation, already described, taking place in the 
 blood. Great dilution of the blood causes the red corpuscles 
 to swell, and solutions of certain salts cause them to lose their 
 smooth outlines and become irregular or crenated, and still 
 further shrinking causes them to become covered with minute 
 projections something like a horse-chestnut. 
 
 What are known as N orris's third or invisible corpuscles 
 are probably simply discolored red corpuscles; but others 
 which have been described as ha3matoblasts deserve a little 
 further attention. These hamiatoblasts are granular matter 
 more or less oval in form, paler, and about one third to one 
 

 The Wheel at the Cistern. 109 
 
 half the- size of the red blood corpuscle, and arc always found 
 in the blood of man and mammals. By many they are re- 
 garded simply as granular debris carried along by the circu- 
 lation; but by others (Hayem, Osier, Kemp) are thought to 
 be elementary red corpuscles or intermediate forms in their 
 development. Recently they have been called blood plaques, 
 or plates, a term worth preserving for the sake of clearly dis- 
 tinguishing them from the other varieties of corpuscles found 
 in the blood. These plaques are composed of smooth, struct- 
 ureless protoplasm, but whether with or without a nucleus 
 is not yet determined ; and they have a remarkable tendency 
 to adhere to one another and adjacent objects when removed 
 from the blood-vessels. 
 
 The origin of these blood plaques is still a matter of dispute, 
 for they are variously regarded as young red blood corpus- 
 cles; as derived from the red corpuscles; as de- 
 rived from the white corpuscles; as nuclei float- 
 ing free in the blood; as fibrin, and, finally, as 
 independent elements. It seems scarcely worth 
 while to mention the evidence upon which these 
 views have been founded. Suffice it to say that 
 all have been carefully examined byjvemp, and 
 1. Blood plaques, sufficient evidence brought against all other 
 colorless and vary- theories to render them most improbable, except 
 
 ing a little in size. . r x 
 
 2. Miciocytesof a the one that considers the third corpuscles as 
 
 deep red color, hajmatoblasts, or young red corpuscles. That 
 
 'i. Two ordinary . ' t \ t • i 
 
 red corpuscles, they are not due to changes produced m other 
 
 4. Asoiidtrunsiu- elements after the blood is drawn is shown by 
 
 cent, lymphoid ... . n , . ., . . \ 
 
 cell or free nu- packing the linger under osmic acid, which 
 flteus. coagulates all of the other elements of the blood 
 
 as they leave the blood-vessel and still these blood plaques 
 may be shown in the fluid. Furthermore, we could scarcely 
 ask for more conclusive proof than that five competent ob- 
 servers have Been them circulating in the vessels of the mes- 
 entery and in the uninjured vessels of the connective tissue 
 of young rats. Kemp's opinion is that they are bi-concave, 
 like the red corpuscles, and that they are in all probability 
 
110 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 incipient red corpuscles. If so, we are a step nearer their 
 origin ; but we have yet much to learn concerning all of the 
 various corpuscles found in the blood. 
 
 There is a time before birth when all of the corpuscles of 
 the blood are while, gradually becoming mingled with the 
 red also. Later in life the red marrow of the bones gives 
 birth to marrow cells which are apparently converted into 
 red corpuscles, which some think are again destroyed in the 
 spleen; others that they are formed there as well. 
 
 This, then, is about the sum of our knowledge concerning 
 the origin and end of the red corpuscles, which give to blood 
 its vitalizing power; for science and Moses unite in declaring 
 that "blood is the life," and that our well-being and com- 
 fort depend more largely upon its composition than on that of 
 any other fluid of the body. Excess of red blood corpuscles 
 produces vertigo, plethora, and headache; deficiency, anaemia, 
 pallor, and the listlessness so common to the school-girl of 
 to-day. Pie, cake, the piano, and the bad air of a modern 
 school-room are poor materials out of which to make good 
 blood; and good blood is essential to health and happiness. 
 Better fewer books, better less company, better less culture, 
 better less almost every thing, than to start into life such 
 wretched apologies for womanhood as are too many of our 
 high-school graduates. It is too high a price to pay for our 
 modern civilization; one that is too dearly bought even at the 
 return of an occasional Jex Blake or a Frances Willard. 
 As a rule it is bad living rather than mental overwork that 
 is to blame for this condition of affairs; for bad air, bad 
 houses, and improper food will ruin the best animal, and it 
 must be remembered that a part of us is as truly animal as 
 the beasts that are nightly tied up within their stalls. There 
 is an efficient society for the prevention of cruelty to ani- 
 mals; but there seems to be no Henry Bergh to interfere 
 when a growing child abuses the animal body that is of infinite- 
 ly more value to the world than many horses. Moreover, cus- 
 tom and fashion have so contrived to Hem in a growing girl 
 that she cannot get a fair chance for a sound body without 
 
The Wheel at the Cistern. Ill 
 
 a life-long struggle with the community. " The natural des- 
 tination of the woman over thirty," says Mr. William Blaikie, 
 " is the sofa, a shawl, and the neuralgia. And why ? Be- 
 cause until recently the modern girl was brought up in such a 
 way that the brain is developed at the expense of her red 
 blood corpuscles, and she comes to womanhood a bundle of 
 nerves and physical degeneration. A girl has as good a 
 claim to strength and health as a boy, and in general needs 
 them more ; but she can acquire them in no other way 
 than he does, namely, by systematic exercise. A daily half 
 hour's recess, or even Saturday's shopping, cannot supply this, 
 and it is especially for the growing school-girl and the 
 woman of sedentary life that there can be found in Part II 
 practical hints for physical culture, carefully prepared by 
 one who has devoted his life to the work. Johns Hopkins 
 University and a few of the more advanced of our female 
 seminaries of this country have efficient classes in physical 
 culture for young ladies; but such institutions are lamentably 
 few and far between. A college class, however, is not neces- 
 sary for this purpose. A little very simple apparatus, and 
 determination and perseverance in its use for only a few min- 
 utes daily, would transform many a listless being into "a 
 queen and sister of the gods." Tennis, croquet, boating, 
 skating, fencing, tricycling, and horse-back riding are all good, 
 and if regularly practiced may be substituted for the exercises 
 detailed in Part II when possible. Where these for any reason 
 are impossible, walking ought to be substituted. "Every 
 girl blessed with moderately good health can walk a mile or 
 two every day and feel the better for it." The more confin- 
 ing and monotonous one's employment the greater the need 
 for daily systematic exercise, and, as Blaikie well says, no 
 one can be so crowded with work that he will not be the 
 better for a short walk before retiring; and the greater the 
 pressure of other duties the greater and more pressing the 
 oeed for just this outing. It requires no little resolution and 
 self-control to force tireri and unwilling feel from a comfort- 
 able seal and ;i cozy fireside; but unless this La done daily, at 
 
112 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 some present inconvenience, the muscles grow soft and flabby, 
 and the body becomes clogged with refuse. 
 
 Fashion onee in a while stumbles upon a sensible fad, and 
 just now it is walking clubs for young girls. "The magnifi- 
 cent girl," says the New York News, " who swings along at 
 a four-mile gait is not only a subject for reflection, but a 
 theme for admiration, congratulation, and tenderness. Tins 
 is true American womanhood, . . . not that of Washington 
 living's day, when flimsy dresses were in style, which, like 
 Mary Anderson's classic costumes, required to be damp- 
 ened overnight to make them cling closely to the form. 
 Paper-soled shoes were then in general favor, and those were 
 the days of meager meals and of diseased and dyspeptic 
 stomachs, hesitating hearts, pinched cheeks, and fragile 
 limbs. Fashionable American womanhood of the past was a 
 ghost. 
 
 "American womanhood of to-day is one of rosy cheeks, 
 sparkling eyes, shoulders thrown back, firm and certain step. 
 Notice how well nourished the cheeks are, how deep and 
 true the inspirations, and how plump and well-rounded the 
 arms, which taper down to the well-gloved hands. Is it not 
 a glorious sight? There is no chance for paper-soled shoes 
 here. Broad, substantially soled button boots cover the 
 handsome, muscular feet, and in place of the tawdry costume 
 whose likeness is preserved for us by dozens of old engrav- 
 ings, here we have a neat and well-made cloth suit, which 
 fits the owner's form to perfection. Can any thing be more 
 satisfactory to the eye than this picture of honest health, of 
 alert though not perhaps of subtle intelligence and womanly 
 beauty ? There may be no suggestion of sentimentality here, 
 nothing of what every-day novelists call poetry, and there is 
 no romantic melancholy, but without any sacrifice of woman- 
 liness there is grace, and, above all, there are life and 
 strength." 
 
 Fashion has committed many abominations in her day, 
 and doubtless in the past deserved Dr. John Brown's wish 
 that he could see her " dressed in her own crinoline, tight 
 
The Wheel at the Cistern. 113 
 
 shoes, a man's tall hat, and trailing petticoats, with her taper 
 waist well nipped by a circlet of nails, points inmost, and 
 with all the other small torments with which she makes us 
 all fools, sent drummed, hissing, and blazing out the world;" 
 but it should be remembered that never before in the knowl- 
 edge of the writer have fashions been as a rule so sensible 
 and conducive to health and comfort as at the present time. 
 Even common sense shoes and the less objectionable forms 
 of corsets may be found in the wardrobes of those who 
 mold the fashions, which latterly do not arise solely from 
 the caprices of queens and kings' mistresses, but from well- 
 paid artists and thrifty manufacturers. When these shall 
 learn to cater to the demands of health as well as to the eye 
 the millennium for women is not far off. One of the most 
 efficient workers to this end is a Mrs. Jenness Miller, of 
 Washington, whose wit and beauty have succeeded in dem- 
 onstrating that dress may be both healthful and beautiful 
 at the same time. The great objection to the proposed 
 Bloomer and Mary Walker dress reforms was that it left its 
 adherent a hideous guy among women, and consequently all 
 such advice was as useless as St. Anthony's preaching to the 
 fishes. When, however, it can be proven that a woman can 
 be both comfortable and fashionable at the same time, sooner 
 or later comfort will win the day. This is exactly what 
 Mrs. Miller is striving to do, arguing that fashionable follies 
 and their resulting penalties have long enough been supreme. 
 " No Greek ever dreamed of wearing sandals an inch nar- 
 rower than her foot, and elevated on heels three inches hierh 
 and located somewhere near the middle of the sole. Neither 
 did she ever wear a sixteen-inch corset, or fasten an uncouth 
 bundle of fantastic drapery to the small of her back with 
 long skirts to trail in the mud. And if women again desire 
 to be beautiful after the Grecian model they must abandon 
 these abominations of fashion in the shape of long skirts with 
 their endless complications of loops, puffs, and a weight that 
 is death to health and happiness and to prolonged usefulness. 
 Science objects to the practice of lacing, steeling and swad 
 
114 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 dling for the reason chiefly that it is inconvenient, ugly, and 
 a burden of sorrow to the unborn world. Science also pro- 
 poses dress without ligatures or bands, steels or whalebones 
 — the essential thing being freedom from pressure, weight, 
 and deformity. Science and sense abhor petticoats, corsets, 
 and French heels." 
 
 Mrs. Miller therefore entirely discards corsets, petticoats, 
 ligatures and bands, and clothes her body after this fashion: 
 Innermost is a union garment of silk or wool for winter, 
 fitting closely as a jersey. Over that is worn a muslin gar- 
 ment, also made to follow the form. Then leglets, or, in 
 plain English, short trowsers, of material adopted to the sea- 
 son and made to reach just below the knee. Over this, 
 without petticoats, hangs a dress made princess fashion, of 
 any material preferred, but so cut as to place no weight upon 
 the hips. Thus dressed a girl would be as untrammeled in her 
 motions as a boy, and with as fair a chance for life, liberty, 
 and the pursuit of happiness as Miss Alcott's "Rose in 
 bloom." 
 
 Such girls and such doctors are few and far between, for 
 the doctor is usually called in to repair damages after they 
 have been inflicted, rather than to prevent them. The physi- 
 cian's best work is not to patch up dilapidated humanity, 
 but to anticipate as far as possible such tinkering and 
 repairing. The Chinese pay their physicians only so long as 
 they keep their patients well, and while it might be impos- 
 sible to successfully adopt their custom in this country, its 
 principle is sound, and is the one on which a physician should 
 be employed. According to Sir Henry Thompson, more than 
 half of the sickness in the world is due to preventible causes 
 which it would be far wiser to employ some one to antici- 
 pate rather than to cure their results. The best physician is 
 not one with some 'pathy or proprietary salve, but the one 
 who can best instruct his patients in regard to the care of 
 their souls' houses, whose abuse inevitably brings penal- 
 ties that are far more our own making than of divine 
 interposition. 
 
The Wheel at the Cistern. 115 
 
 For instance, a principal in one of our larger young ladies' 
 high-schools found himself greatly perplexed at finding his 
 opening hour largely taken up in going from room to room 
 and looking after pupils who had fainted or were otherwise 
 indisposed. These attacks, at first so mysterious, were soon 
 found to be due to over-fatigue, both social and mental, and 
 a lack of a proper breakfast before school hours. No amount 
 of prayer or physic cured such cases until more sleep, ade- 
 quate food, and fresh air removed their cause; for fainting 
 is not a direful disease, like the cholera, but is simply the 
 blind protest of a brain not sufficiently supplied with the 
 proper kind of blood. Since young ladies have given up 
 living exclusively in-doors, fainting, says a recent society 
 paper, has gone out of fashion; and it is a custom more hon- 
 ored in the breach than in the observance. The more so 
 because usually exactly the wrong thing is done for one 
 found fainting. The trouble is an insufficient supply of 
 blood to the brain, due to a missed beat of the heart, either 
 from feebleness or some mental impression — as bad news, the 
 sight of fresh blood, or even a mouse; for there is no reason- 
 able explanation of such antipathies. Boyle is said to have 
 grown faint whenever he heard the splashing of water, 
 Scaliger at the sight of water-cresses, and Erasmus notes the 
 case of a clergyman who fainted whenever he heard a cer- 
 tain verse in Jeremiah read. But whatever the mental im- 
 pression, its direct result and the one which causes the faint- 
 ness is the failure of the heart to send sufficient blood to the 
 brain; consequently the first thing to be done is to remedy 
 this defect. Blood, like every other fluid, flows most easily 
 down hill, and the common sense thing to be done is to lower 
 the head of the one fainting below that of the body; so, when 
 you find the world growing black before you, lay yourself 
 out as flat as you can. Smelling salts, cold air, loosening the 
 clothing and forty particular friends are all good enough in 
 ili.ii- place, except the last — who would do better to stand 
 aside and let their friend have sonic fresh air; but the one 
 great thing to be done is to put the head of a person in a 
 
lit) Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 faint at least on a level willi their heels. Fainting means 
 that the supply of blood in the brain is insufficient, and of 
 course the iir.st thing to be done is to put the person in such 
 a posture that blood will find its way most easily back. The 
 thing usually done is to lift or set upright the victim, while 
 the distraeted friends crowd about and insist upon cutting 
 off what little air would otherwise come to their aid. The 
 recumbent position, a draft of fresh air, and a little water 
 sprinkled in the face are usually all that is required in such 
 cases, which are not at all alarming unless they occur in the 
 course of protracted illness. 
 
 Under such circumstances repeated faintness is alarming, 
 for it betokens failing ability of the heart longer to perform 
 its duties. The wonder is that this does not oftener happen, 
 for the heart is the hardest worked organ of the body; ^lay 
 and night, for our entire life-time, it pumps away seventy or 
 more times a minute. To be sure it drives but six ounces of 
 blood with each impulse, but as there are something over a 
 hundred thousand of these impulses in the twenty-four hours 
 it follows that the heart lifts over twenty tons of blood a day, 
 and may perform this work for seventy years or more, with- 
 out a rest of longer than a fraction of a minute at any one 
 time. About one quarter of the time required for each beat of 
 the heart is taken for rest ; that is, for say each second its first 
 half is occupied in making the sound lup, the next quarter 
 second makes the sound pup, and then comes a quarter of a 
 second rest, provided the heart beats but sixty times a minute. 
 A longer rest on the part of the heart than a quarter of a 
 second brings a feeling of faintness, and if the resting con- 
 tinues death ensues from heart failure, or syncope, as the 
 doctors call it. 
 
 Solomon compares the heart to the wheel at the cistern, or 
 the shadoof used in Eastern lands to lift the water from a 
 spring to a reservoir. The comparison is good as relates 
 to the method, but poor as regards the instrument, for the 
 shadooff is an inefficient pump compared to the double hand- 
 ful of muscles which labor for us more incessantly than any 
 
The Wheel at ttte Cistern. 117 
 
 engine yet invented. Solomon's comparison is the more re- 
 markable from the fact that in his day the circulation of the 
 blood was not understood, although the pulsation of the ar- 
 teries could not have escaped the attention of the ancient 
 physicians. And yet it Avas not until the time of William 
 Harvey (1619) that work done by the wheel at the cistern 
 was understood. From the influence which the emotions have 
 upon the circulation of the heart it was considered by the 
 ancient Jews as the seat of the passions and the intellect, 
 which were then supposed to be located in the breast and 
 not in the brain. The error is not strange when we remember 
 that excitement of any kind increases the heart's action. Even 
 the difference betAveen standing and sitting makes a variation 
 in the heart's beat sufficient to be noted by many of the life 
 insurance companies. Exercise of any kind quickens the 
 heart's action, and hence benefits the whole body un- 
 less carried to excess. Boat-races, walking-matches, and 
 foot-ball contests are dangerous when they call for violent 
 work by the heart ; so too does intense excitement of any 
 kind, which leads eventually to enlargement of the heart and 
 feeble action. A majority of professional athletes finally 
 die either from this cause or consumption, strange as it may 
 appear, although there is a good reason for the latter, as well 
 as the hypertrophy of the heart so often found in such cases. 
 Heart disease is frequently reported as the cause of sudden 
 death, which is popularly believed often to take place with- 
 out warning. Such is not the case. Heart disease rarely, 
 if ever, causes death without premonition, and the majority 
 of cases of unexpected death, supposed to be due to heart 
 disease, are found to have other causes. 
 
 "A truer report would have a tendency to save many 
 lives. It is through a report of 'disease of the heart' that 
 many an opium-eater is let off into the grave, which covers 
 ;ii once his folly and his crime ; the brandy drinker, too, 
 quietly slides round the corner thus and is heard of no 
 more; iii short, this 'report' of 'disease of the heart ' is 
 
 the mantle of charily which the politic coroner and the 
 
118 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 sympathetic physician throw around the graves of l genteel 
 people.' 
 
 " At a late scientific congress at Strasburg it was reported 
 that of sixty-six persons who had suddenly died, an imme- 
 diate and faithful post-mortem showed that only two of them 
 had any heart affection whatever : one sudden death only in 
 thirty-three from disease of the heart. Nine out of the 
 sixty-six died of apoplexy — one out of every seven — while 
 forty-six — more than two out of three — died of lung affec- 
 tions, half of them of ' congestion of the lungs,' that is, the 
 lungs were so full of blood they could not work ; there was 
 not room for air enough to get in to support life." 
 
 Thus wrote Dr. W. W. Hall, some years ago, and increasing 
 knowledge confirms his statement. It is furthermore proven 
 that many cases of supposed heart disease are really those of 
 chronic tobacco poisoning, and cease with the discontinuance 
 of the weed. Tobacco's effects are chiefly expended upon 
 the nervous system, which the poisonous alkaloid of tobacco 
 (nicotine) affects. Tobacco has been dropped from medical 
 use as too uncertain and dangerous a drug to be used with 
 satisfaction, but half -grown lads persist in poisoning them- 
 selves with it until at last the body tolerates it and even de- 
 mands its after-soothing effects. American hurry and worry 
 doubtless have done much to beget the almost universal 
 use of tobacco in this country, but, whatever the fancied need, 
 tobacco cannot be used without paying the penalties. These 
 are that it taints the breath, over-stimulates the kidneys, and 
 saturates the skin with the characteristic odor of nicotine. 
 It also disorders digestion, may produce cancer, and inevi- 
 tably disorders sooner or later the heart's action. This is 
 chiefly shown in rapid, irregular palpitations, short breath, 
 languor, and, according to Franzel, sleeplessness. In one 
 case in the writer's knowledge this sleeplessness bordered 
 closely on delirium tremens, although the person did not use 
 alcohol in any form. Such results are slow in appearing, the 
 smoker often using tobacco for years without any supposed 
 bad effects until going to consult his physician for bus- 
 
The Wheel at the Cistern. 119 
 
 pectecl heart trouble, without any idea that the use of tobacco 
 has had any thing to do with the strange feelings and sudden 
 pains about the heart ; he discovers their cause and he finds 
 that the discontinuance of the use of tobacco brings relief 
 from discomfort. And yet the habit is often so firmly 
 implanted that the cessation of pain is usually the signal to 
 begin anew the use of a drug that its user will freely admit 
 he knows is injuring him. The fascination of tobacco, I pre- 
 sume, is never fully understood by one who has never been 
 addicted to its use, but as strong men truly declare that 
 a breath of tobacco smoke, after years of abstinence, has 
 the power to force them to walk the floor all night in 
 desperate conflict with their old enemy, it can scarcely 
 be less irksome to be in bondage to tobacco than alcohol. 
 Tobacco does not drive men to the gallows, or peniten- 
 tiary, nor as a rule make moral wrecks of them, but it 
 does put its devotee under a needless bondage, and whatever 
 may be said in favor of its use by the overworked professional 
 or laboring man, its effects upon growing youths are unequiv- 
 ocably bad. Decaisne found that in boys of fifteen it pro- 
 duced, almost without an exception, anaemia, palpitation of 
 the heart, and an intermittent pulse, beside stunting the 
 growth. In an English public school twenty-two of the 
 thirty-eight juvenile smokers examined showed similar dis- 
 turbance of digestion and circulation. So clearly has this 
 been proven that in France the minister of public instruction, 
 and certainly not from moral reasons, prohibits the use of 
 tobacco in all the government schools, and the same is true, 
 if the writer is correctly informed, in our naval training 
 school at Annapolis, where tobacco is again on the prohibited 
 list, after the experiment having been tried of allowing its free 
 use Tn short, science and experience unite in declaring, first, 
 that the use of tobacco is not merely an expensive and un- 
 desirable habit for the young, but a positive injury, for no 
 young man can ever reach It is highest physical condition if 
 lie uses tobacco before reaching maturity (thirty-three years) ; 
 and secondly, that cigarette-smoking is the most delete- 
 
120 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 rious form in which tobacco is used. " A cigarette-smoking 
 boy will not make a Btrong man. He will have impaired 
 digestion, small and poor muscles, irritable temper, and a 
 lack of capacity for sustained effort of any kind." (L>ar- 
 tholow.) 
 
 From a whiff of cigarette smoke to the size and shape of 
 the heart requires one of Mark Twain's " natural and easy 
 transitions ;" but before leaving the subject of the heart it 
 would be well to describe a little more fully its shape and 
 location. The adult heart is a hollow, muscular organ about 
 the size of a man's fist, of conical shape, located between the 
 right and left lungs, its apex lying about an inch and a half 
 from the surface of the body. 
 
 It is inclosed in a fibrous sac, called the pericardium, and 
 lies obliquely in the chest, and so placed that a bullet pene- 
 trating the breast-bone on a level with the nipple, and strik- 
 ing the vertebra? at right angles with the axis of the body, 
 would pass through three cavities of the heart; namely, both 
 right and left ventricles and the left auricle. 
 
 The heart's base, or broad end, is directed upward and 
 backward toward the right, and corresponds to the interval 
 between the fifth and eighth dorsal vertebras. Its apex, or 
 conical end, is directed forward and to the left, lying in the 
 interspace between the fifth and sixth ribs, an inch to the 
 inner side of the nipple, where the heart's impulse can usually 
 be distinctly seen on watching the bared breast. The lungs 
 cover the greatest part of the heart, especially during inspi- 
 ration, when the edges of the lungs nearly meet behind the 
 breast-bone, behind the lower two thirds of which the 
 heart mainly lies. A thin layer of lung tissue alwaj^s 
 rovers the roots of the large vessels, but a large part 
 of the heart's surface is exposed during expiration, when 
 the edges of the lungs recede from each other. The 
 anterior surface of the heart is rounded and directed 
 upward and forward, and is composed mainly of the 
 right ventricle. The posterior surface of the heart is 
 slightly flattened, and rests upon the diaphragm; hence the 
 
The Wheel at the Cistern. 
 
 121 
 
 heart's distress when the diaphragm is pushed upward by- 
 gases within the stomach. 
 
 The heart in the adult measures five inches in length, 
 three inches and a half in breadth in the broad part, and two 
 inches and a half in thickness. The average weight in the 
 male varies from ten to twelve ounces ; in the female from 
 eight to ten ; its proportion to the entire weight of the body- 
 being as 1 to 169 in males ; 1 to 149 in females. The heart 
 continues increasing in weight, and also in length, breadth, 
 and thickness, up to an advanced period of life. This increase 
 is more marked in "men than in women. 
 
 The heart is divided by 
 a longitudinal, muscular 
 septum, or division, into 
 two lateral halves, which 
 are known from their po- 
 sition as the right and left 
 heart, and each of these is 
 again subdivided by a 
 transverse wall into two 
 cavities, known as right 
 and left auricles and ven- 
 tricles, respectively ; the 
 upper cavities on each side 
 being called auricles, from 
 their fancied resemblance 
 in shape to an ear. The lower cavities are known as the right 
 and left ventricles, according to their position. The right is 
 the venous side of the heart, receiving into its auricle the 
 dark or venous blood of the body through the veme cava3 
 which empty into it. The course of the blood from this 
 point is as follows : This venous blood passes downward 
 through the tricuspid valve (e,f) from the right auricle into 
 the right ventricle, whence it is propelled by the contraction 
 of the heart into (d) the pulmonary artery, its return into 
 the auricle being prevented by means of the tricuspid valve 
 just mentioned ; and its regurgitation from the pulmonary 
 6 
 
 Right Side of the Heart laid Open. 
 
122 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 artery back into the ventricle is similarly prevented by semi- 
 lunar valves (m) placed at the cardiac orifice of the artery. 
 By the pulmonary artery the blood, still blue and venous, 
 reaches the lungs, where it loses its dark color by the pro- 
 cesses to be described, and now becomes bright red. Having 
 been thus purified, it returns to the heart from the lungs 
 through the pulmonary veins, which, however, convey arte- 
 rial blood, and empties into the left auricle, well shown in 
 Plate II. 
 
 These veins, unlike the majority of the vessels which empty 
 into the heart, have no valves at their openings into the left 
 auricle, so that there is a slight reflux of blood toward the 
 lungs, but the greater part of the blood which passes into 
 the left auricle is forced by the contraction of the heart 
 through the mitral valve (m. v. Plate II), which separates the 
 left auricle from the left ventricle. From thence it passes 
 through the semi-lunar valves, which are designed to prevent 
 the regurgitation of blood back into the heart, into the aorta, 
 and carried the round of the circulation, until the blood 
 reaches the capillaries, hereafter to be described, from which 
 it at last reaches the veins, and ultimately the venae cavse, or 
 great veins which empty into the right side of the heart. 
 The course of the blood through the heart has already been 
 described, and if the round of the circulation seems some- 
 what intricate, by reference to Plate II the matter may be 
 greatly simplified and fixed permanently in the mind of the 
 reader, as the arrows given in the plate indicate the direction 
 of the blood currents, and their color shows whether they 
 are those of arterial or venous blood. 
 
 The heart sounds already alluded to, which can readily be 
 heard by applying the ear to the bared chest, just above the 
 location of the apex beat, are due to the rhythmic contrac- 
 tions of the heart forcing the blood through its partitions 
 and out into the general circulation. If you listen attentively 
 you may be able to distinguish, first, a longish, dull sound 
 which has been likened to lup, then a shorter — about one 
 half the duration of the first — sound, called tup, and then a 
 
The Wheel at the Cistern. 123 
 
 pause for the same length of time as the second sound ; then 
 comes the first sound again, and so on, the first sound occu- 
 pying one half the time of a heart-beat, and the second and 
 the pause the other two quarters. The first, or lup, sound 
 is probably produced by several causes, the second is due to 
 the flapping back of the semi-lunar valves {I. v.) at the aortic 
 opening (see Plate II). Sometimes these and the other valves 
 in the heart become diseased, especially after or during 
 rheumatism, and their owner ever after suffers from a leaky 
 blood-pump, which will not allow him to run or take violent 
 exercise for the remainder of his life. And yet, with care, 
 many of these leaky hearts perform their duty for a surpris- 
 ingly long time, and, contrary to general belief, rarely sen- 
 tence their owners to sudden death. In fact, with any thing 
 like reasonable care the heart is more tolerant of protracted 
 work than any other organ of the body, and so long as a 
 regular full pulse can be felt at the wrist th*e less thought 
 given the heart the better. 
 
 The pulse, or impulse given to the fingers laid over an 
 artery, is due to dilatation of its elastic walls each time a 
 fresh quantity of blood is forced into it. Hence it closely 
 follows each contraction of the left ventricle, and counting 
 the pulse gives us the number of these contractions during 
 the minute. The jets of blood from a freshly cut artery 
 give us the same information ; but such knowledge is dearly 
 purchased, for if long persisted in it brings death from loss 
 of blood. As long as the blood flowing from a wound is 
 dark-colored, even though it comes freely, it need cause no 
 particular alarm, for pressure over the wound will usually 
 stanch the flow; but crimson spurting blood must be stopped 
 at once by the surgeon, and until he comes a bandage should 
 be placed around the limb between it and the heart, and 
 twisted as tightly as possible by thrusting a stout fork or 
 strong stick beneath the bandage, and thus twisting the 
 bandage until sufficient pressure is obtained to check the 
 flow of" blood. Pressure is the only thing that can be relied 
 upon to check arterial hemorrhage, but, intelligently used, it 
 
124 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 will and has saved many a life until professional aid could be 
 obtained. 
 
 Having now considered the blood and the heart, there re- 
 mains but little in the way of description of the blood-vessels 
 to complete the mechanism of the circulation. These blood- 
 vessels are of two varieties; namely, arteries and veins. The 
 former were originally called arteries, from the idea enter- 
 tained by the ancients that these vessels contained only air, 
 which mistake arose from the fact that the arteries are usu- 
 ally found empty after death. Galen was the first to refute 
 this opinion, for he was able to prove that the arteries con- 
 tain blood in the living body. Except in the case of the 
 pulmonary artery, they contain bright red, or well aerated 
 blood. The pulmonary artery, as may be remembered, al- 
 though it is called an artery, conveys venous blood from the 
 heart to the lungs, whence it is returned by the pulmonary 
 veins to the 6ther side of the heart, constituting what is 
 sometimes known as the lesser or pulmonary circulation, 
 whose arteries and veins contain exactly the reverse of the 
 blood found elsewhere in the body; that is, the pulmonary 
 veins contain arterial blood, and the pulmonary artery 
 venous blood. 
 
 The arteries are round, fibrous tubes, dense in structure, 
 quite strong, and elastic enough when cut to preserve their 
 cylindrical form. The arteries have three coats or layers, 
 and are also included in a sheath, which holds in addition 
 generally a vein and nerve. Arteries give off branches 
 which freely communicate one with another by means of 
 larger and smaller branches. These anastomoses, as they are 
 called, are found wherever great freedom in the circulation 
 is required, as at the base of the brain and about the joints. 
 The arteries and their branches divide and subdivide, until in 
 its general contour the arterial circulation resembles an invert- 
 ed tree whose common trunk would be represented by the aorta 
 and its twigs by the capillaries, which are found in nearly every 
 part of the body except in the nails, hairs, cartilages, and 
 cornea. The capillary blood-vessels are so named because 
 
The Wheel at the Cistern. 
 
 125 
 
 in size they are about that of a hair or less (one fifteen 
 hundredth to one two-thousandth of an inch), sometimes dis 
 posed in loops, sometimes in meshes, in which 
 the blood almost imperceptibly passes from the 
 arterial to the venous side of the circulation. 
 Just how this change is made is somewhat in 
 dispute, but the following facts seem well at- 
 tested. The larger arteries, as has already 
 been said, possess three coats, and, as the arte- 
 ries grow smaller, these coats imperceptibly 
 disappear, until the capillaries have only the 
 inner (endothelium) left, which, as may be 
 seen from the cut, is made up of endothelial 
 plates, or germinal matter set 
 like tiles in a cement substance. 
 These arterial twigs communicate 
 with the venous capillaries either 
 directly or by means of intervas- 
 cular spaces, into whiih the cor- 
 puscles pass by means of the minute 
 
 Endothelial 
 plates. 
 
 Minute Micro- 
 scopic Artery. 
 e, Endotheli- 
 um ; i, intima ; 
 w, muscular me- 
 dia, composed of 
 a single layer of 
 
 openings between the endothelial circular iy- a r- 
 plates. This always takes place in inflamma- striped mU scuiar 
 tion, when these capillaries become abnormally ceils , a, adven- 
 distended, and the openings between the plates 
 so much enlarged that the white corpuscles (pus) readily pass 
 through them. The veins are formed by the union of the 
 venous capillaries, which are found in nearly every tissue of 
 the body. These venous twigs unite to form venous trunks, 
 which increase in size as they pass toward the heart by 
 union with other veins on the way. In general, the veins are 
 larger and more numerous than the arteries, so that the en- 
 tire capacity of the venous system is much greater than that 
 of the arterial. From the combined capacity of the smaller 
 venous branches being greater than the main trunks, it re- 
 sults that the venous system represents a cone, the summit 
 of which corresponds to the heart, its base to the circumfer- 
 ence of the body. In form the veins are not perfectly cylin- 
 
126 Physiology axd Hygiene. 
 
 drical like the arteries, their walls being collapsed when 
 empty, and the uniformity of their surface being interrupted 
 at intervals by slight contractions, which indicate the posi- 
 tion of the valves placed within them to prevent the back- 
 ward flow of the blood. These valves are formed by a re- 
 duplication of the inner and a part of the middle coat of 
 the vein, and consist, therefore, of connective tissue and 
 elastic fibers, covered on both surfaces by endothelium. Their 
 form is semilunar. They are attached by their convex edge 
 to the walls of the vein ; their concave margin is free, di- 
 rectly in the course of the venous current, and lies in close 
 apposition with the wall of the vein so long as the current 
 of blood takes its natural course ; if, however, any regurgi- 
 tation takes place, the valves become distended, their op- 
 posed edges are brought into contact, and the current of 
 blood is intercepted. Most commonly two such valves are 
 found placed opposite one another, especially in the smaller 
 veins, and in the larger venous trunks at the point where 
 they are joined by small branches. 
 
 Just above the valve the wall of the vein expands into a 
 pouch, whrch gives a vein its knotted appearance when dis- 
 tended with blood. These pouches are especially numerous 
 in the veins of the legs, which are thus provided to assist the 
 blood current, against gravity, toward the heart, where all the 
 veins at last empty. Increasing age is apt to produce en- 
 largement of these pouches (varicose veins), which become 
 a serious impediment to walking, but which may be relieved 
 by snug bandaging. A more serious accident is the forma- 
 tion of a fibrinous clot in a blood-vesssel or the fatty degen- 
 eration of their walls. Alcohol is a frequent cause of this, 
 and such vessels are prone to rupture. This accident in the 
 brain is apoplexy. 
 
 There are two hundred and seventy arteries, and as many 
 or more veins, all of which are of interest to the anatomist 
 and surgeon; but instead of attempting a description of the 
 more important of these, we give a cut illustrating the rela- 
 tion of the aorta, or great artery of the body, to the other 
 
The Wheel at the Cistern. 
 
 127 
 
 large vessels of the trunk of the body, which for further 
 comparison should be studied in connection with Plate II. 
 
 Diagram op ttie Large Vessels of the Heart and Lungs (from Wilson). 
 
 1. .Ascending aorta. 
 
 2. Transverse portion of the arch. 
 
 3. Thoracic or descending aorta. 
 
 4. Arterla innominata. 
 
 5. Right common carotid. 
 
 6. External and internal carotids. 
 
 7. Right subclavian artery. 
 
 8. Axillary artery. 
 
 9. Brachial artery. 
 
 10. Right pneumosastrlc nerve. 
 
 11. Left common carotid. 
 
 12. Left subclavian artery. 
 
 13. Pulmonary artery. 
 
 14. Left pulmonary artery. 
 
 15. Right pulmonary artery. 
 
 16. Trachea. 
 
 17. Right bronchus. 
 
 18. Left bronchus. 
 
 19. 19. Pulmonary veins. 
 
 20. Bronchial arteries. 
 
 21. 21. Intercostal arteries; the branches 
 from the front of the aorta above and 
 below the number 3 are pericardiac 
 and esophageal. 
 
• 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SEWERAGE AND VENTILATION. 
 
 In the preceding chapter we have briefly considered the 
 composition of the blood and the mechanism of its circula- 
 tion. This naturally brings us to the question, Why is the 
 blood thus carried its ceaseless round ? Because if delayed 
 at any one point the blood there stagnates, grows blue, dis- 
 tends the tissues, and finally, by an escape of its corpuscles, 
 produces death of the part. Such an accident is called in its 
 earlier stages congestion, later it is known as mortification. 
 Congestion happens whenever the nerves which preside over 
 the circulation of any organ fail to do their duty; for each 
 tiny arterial twig has its own nerve connections which regu- 
 late the quantity of blood contained by contracting or dilat- 
 ing the vessel as required. The pallor of fainting means that 
 there has been a sudden contraction of the little vessels upon 
 the surface of the body, driving the blood to the internal or- 
 gans. Blushing denotes exactly the contrary, or that the 
 vessels are widely dilated, from shame or other causes, and no 
 longer able to contract. Congestion is a protracted blushing, 
 that is, a continued dilation of the capillary blood-vessels 
 from any cause, and serious in proportion to its persistence. 
 Congestion of the lungs is a more frequent cause, of death 
 than heart disease, while transient congestion is a matter of 
 every-day occurrence and of little importance, provided the 
 equilibrium of circulation is soon restored. A hot fire, a cold 
 walk, wet feet, all produce localized congestion, but of a kind 
 that is quickly relieved if one is in health ; but if, as the doctors 
 say, the system fails to react, a pair of thin shoes or a cold 
 walk may prove the cause of untimely death. The late Dr. 
 Durbin's rule of never allowing himself to become chilly is 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation. 129 
 
 v 1 
 
 ■v 
 
 an excellent one, for one can never be sure that he is in con 
 dition to react after even a slight chilliness. Thin slippers 
 may look very beautiful upon the tiny feet which peep in 
 and out like mice beneath the petticoat, or the excursion 
 with bare feet from the warm bed to the cold floor may be of 
 but a moment's duration; but that moment may suffice to 
 drive the blood from the surface of the body to your lasting 
 injury. Chilliness is always a sign that something is going 
 wrong within the house in which we live ; for a chill is nat- 
 ure's automatic alarm, by which the sympathetic nervous sys- 
 tem gives warning that the tiny blood-vessels over which 
 they watch are being imposed upon. If you are wise you 
 heed the warning, and at almost any personal inconvenience 
 by means of hot drinks and baths bring about a reaction. If 
 this is done promptly, no harm results; but if the blood-ves- 
 sels have been too long contracted, instead of returning to 
 their former condition they expand to an undue amount and 
 now contain twice as much blood as they ought. In other 
 words, you find your nose is all stopped up after catching 
 cold, because its blood-vessels have crowded into them twice 
 or thrice as much blood as they can conveniently hold; for 
 one of the spots most liable to become chilled is the sensitive 
 membrane lining the nose. The swelling renders it almost 
 impossible to breathe through the nostrils, and if the conges- 
 tion passes downward there is hoarseness as well. If, on the 
 other hand, the cold is confined to the head, the swelling 
 passes up into the bone cavities communicating with the 
 nose and lined with the same mucous membrane, and there 
 is headache, and we feel generally too mean to live, until 
 here, as elsewhere, nature does the best thing that she can 
 under the circumstances. And what is that? Why, 
 relieve the swollen blood-vessels as promptly as possible 
 by allowing the excess of fluid to transude through their 
 walls. 
 
 Hence we often find the sneezing and irritation in the nose, 
 of the first few hours of a hard cold, disappear as soon as 
 
 there is an active demand for handkerchiefs. Now if we have 
 6* 
 
130 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 sense enough to give nature sufficient time to thoroughly repair 
 the errors we have committed, we are none the worse for the 
 experience, which otherwise might have been pneumonia or 
 something more serious, but in this country we are generally 
 too much in a hurry to get thoroughly well. Some very im- 
 portant sewing society engagement, or call to save the coun- 
 try from impending danger by the aid of our invaluable 
 advice, tempts us out, and we repeat the congestion before 
 it is thoroughly well. The natural result is that we find 
 ourselves at last afflicted with catarrh, or a chronic discharge 
 from some one of the air passages — for nature after a while 
 gets tired of her repeated efforts at repair, and at last 
 abandons us to our own devices and those of the physicians. 
 These at best are a poor substitute for nature's original 
 methods, as we find at last, to our regret, when a cold is no 
 longer a trivial matter. Curiously enough, cold has, ordi- 
 narily, very little, if any thing, to do with catching cold. 
 Indeed, some think that the very best way to cure a cold is to 
 breathe as much cold air as possible, and the colder the better; 
 but there are colds and colds, and while some are, beyond 
 dispute, contracted by sitting in a cold draft, there are 
 other colds, and these are the more frequent ones, which are 
 due to impure air and a generally clogged up system. The 
 bad air produced by the modern hot-air furnace is a prolific 
 source of winter colds, as are also poorly ventilated churches, 
 theaters, and other places of public resort, especially if to 
 the bad air be added improper diet. Any kind of food, of 
 which more is taken than can be easily disposed of in the 
 body, begets a susceptibility to colds which needs only some 
 slight cause to fan it into an active congestion. So true is 
 this that if you find an overfed child and house him in 
 furnace-heated apartments all winter, no amount of care 
 will prevent his having frequent colds, whereas if the same 
 child be properly bathed, housed, and fed he will in the great 
 majority of cases escape this affliction. At all events, what- 
 ever may be the rationale of a cold, the fact remains that the 
 very best treatment yet devised for an incipient cold is star- 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation. 131 
 
 vation. "Feed a cold and starve a fever" has made lots of 
 mischief, for whatever may be said of the treatment proposed 
 for fever it certainly is most excellent for colds. The trouble 
 is to induce one's friends, or even one's self, to carry out the 
 prescription. You are a little feverish, achy, with a bad 
 taste in your mouth, and generally feeling worse than an 
 organ-grinder's monkey, when a meal is announced, and from 
 force of habit, or want of something better to do, you sit 
 down and force yourself to eat, although you know you do 
 not need it. For a while, eating distracts your attention and 
 calls it away from yourself, but shortly after the meal the 
 cold grows worse than ever. In other words, the body while 
 suffering from a cold very imperfectly attends to digestion 
 and elimination, and any thing that increases its work in that 
 direction increases our discomfort. The sensible thing to do 
 when a cold is coming on is to stop eating entirely, and for 
 a day or two to live on hot beef-tea and other liquids. Many 
 a cold treated in this way yields most gratifyingly in a few 
 hours. Indeed, if the dear people would but learn to keep 
 their feet dry, their heads- cool, and their bodies properly 
 protected, a large share of the doctor's work would be sadly 
 cut into. But the majority will not. It is too much trouble; 
 it takes too much time to put on wraps. We are too indo- 
 lent to carry an overcoat for emergencies. We are loth to 
 deny ourselves the pleasure of eating, so we drag out a week 
 of wretchedness, which might be cut short by a day or two 
 of abstinence, or just as long as feverishness persists ; for a 
 cold is always attended with fever. There may be a feeling 
 of chilliness, but a thermometer placed in the mouth will 
 register one or two degrees higher than in health. This 
 fever is due to the disturbance of the capillary circulation 
 already described, associated with inflammatory ehanges in 
 the germinal matter of the skin and mucous membrane, 
 which fb only a turning of the skin inward to line the 
 cavities of the body, for mucous membrane is the same 
 three-ply tapestry found on the surface of the body. 
 
 The lower layer of mucous membrane is the same corium 
 
132 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 that has already been described in speaking of the skin. It 
 lias similar fibrous tissue, vessels, and nerves, over which lies 
 a thin transparent basement membrane, and on top of this lie 
 epithelial scales or cells. Epithelium and endothelium are 
 the poorly selected Greek names given to these wondrous 
 bits of germinal matter with which the body is lined inside 
 and out. The scales of the mouth are well named, for a 
 scraping with a penknife from the inside of the lips shows 
 beneath the microscope a multitude of flat scales not unlike 
 those that may be found upon a fish. But this is not their 
 only form, for elsewhere in the body they have the shape of 
 columns, waving tufts, tiny spindles, goblets, chalices, and 
 polygonal plates, each one placed where it can best perform 
 its special work. 
 
 The essential difference between the epithelium on the 
 surface of the body and that within its cavities is that the 
 former is protected by a layer of dried scales, and the latter is 
 without these, being bathed constantly instead with a bland 
 fluid. The rosy, glistening mucous membrane of the lips is 
 exactly the same as the skin minus nature's coat of white- 
 wash, for a blister that has just been drawn has about the 
 same appearance as the lips. If, then, mucous membrane is 
 so nearly like blistered skin, why don't we feel all raw in- 
 side ? We should if it were not for a beneficent arrange- 
 ment by which this membrane is kept constantly bathed in 
 a bland fluid (mucus). Holding a blistered finger in milk 
 will take away the smarting quicker than almost any thing 
 else ; so there are myriads of little sacs or mucous glands 
 scattered all over the mucous membrane whose duty it is to 
 keep it moistened with a thin, watery fluid, and at the same 
 time wash it clean from refuse; for it must be remembered 
 that mucous membrane is as constantly growing as the skin, 
 and needs to be kept clean as well. Do you remember those 
 days of protracted fever when your mouth was asfcdry as a 
 chip and tasted like old leather and copperas ? That simply 
 meant that the mucus was not sufficient to wash away the 
 growing epithelial scales, which were left to dry and rot 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation. 133 
 
 there; and no wonder your mouth tasted badly. But that 
 is not all ; there is another set of glands pouring fluid into 
 the mouth, and at such a time these are tainted as well- 
 These are the salivary glands, already spoken of under Di- 
 gestion. Their deficient and tainted secretion makes the 
 mouth dry, and awakens a desire for lemonade or other 
 acid. Refraining from fluid may help to cut short the in- 
 flammatory trouble, but it is done at a cost of personal 
 inconvenience few feel willing to submit to. Moreover, as 
 recovery in these cases results from the removal, from the 
 blood and fluids of the body, of the poisonous substances 
 whose accumulation there produces the fever and discom- 
 fort, this process is assisted by the free use of fluids. These 
 stimulate the kidneys, skin, and mucous glands to increased 
 action, and, as we have all learned, when the latter begin 
 to act freely the fever of a cold disappears. The bad taste 
 in the mouth may linger for a few days, with loss of appetite 
 — which means clearly that it is better to refrain from eat- 
 ing until the appetite returns and the tongue cleans. Starva- 
 tion usually brings both promptly to time, though in the 
 case of the tongue the process may be hastened by cleaning 
 off its refuse with the edge of a silver fruit-knife and scrub- 
 bing up after with a little saleratus water. There is no bet- 
 ter reason for leaving a dirty tongue in one's mouth than for 
 neglecting to clean the teeth. It was once the fashion for 
 every lady to keep on her table a tiny silver hoe with which 
 to clean her tongue after dining, not wisely but too well, the 
 previous evening. It was not an irrational practice, in fact 
 vastly wiser than the modern plan of taking stomach or liver 
 bitters when, according to the advertising almanac, you an- 
 swer in the affirmative its staple questions of, " Are you dull 
 and heavy in the morning? Have you a bad taste in the 
 mouth? Is your appetite poor?" 
 
 These symptoms need attention ; they mean that your 
 body is growing dirty, and possibly needs a spring house- 
 cleaning, but that is a very different thing from putting its 
 servants to sleep with alcohol, so that they will not know 
 
134 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 whether the house is dirty or not. Taking stomach or 
 spring bitters means exactly this. As I write there lies be- 
 fore me the official analysis by the State chemist of Rhode 
 Island of all such bitters on sale in that State, and there is 
 not one which does not contain alcohol, the most popular 
 (Hostetter's and Drake's) being stronger than brandy. A 
 wine-glass of brandy twice or three times a day makes the 
 drinker feel comfortable while its effect lasts, but that gone 
 there is need of another ; and such is exactly the effect of 
 these much-advertised bitters, which are all the more dan- 
 gerous because they are taken by many who would utterly 
 refuse to take liquor, and yet ignorantly take daily poor 
 whisky enough to keep them just within its influence. The 
 effect of alcohol upon germinal matter has already been 
 noted in Chapter I. It is not necessary here to further dis- 
 cuss the subject, except to say that after liquors have done 
 their work within the body their alcohol is excreted through 
 the lungs and kidneys. In both of these places alcohol 
 works mischief. Its passage through the delicate tubes of 
 the kidneys, hereafter to be described, damages their epithe- 
 lium often irreparably, and the alcohol escaping through the 
 lungs does no less harm, for, aside from the foul odor it 
 gives to the breath, it so irritates the air passages that 
 " whisky drinker's bronchitis " is a well recognized form of 
 disease. 
 
 Of minor evils a bad breath is one of the most annoying 
 of troubles. Aside from that due to whisky, onions, and to- 
 bacco, it betokens dirt somewhere. Dirt was happily defined 
 by Palmerston as " matter in the wrong place," and there is no 
 instance of worse misplaced matter than putrefying material 
 coming out between rosy lips. A bad breath is thus pro- 
 duced, though it is often quite difficult to find out exactly 
 where the decay is taking place. Sometimes the trouble is 
 with the food in the stomach; sometimes it arises from de- 
 caying epithelium on the tongue, and again it comes from 
 the perverted secretions of the tonsils or the nostrils. What- 
 ever the source, such odors, as in all dirty houses, call for 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation. 135 
 
 increased cleanliness. Cleanliness in the body means that 
 all refuse must be either swept out or burned up, for if any 
 residue of unused food escapes these processes, like all other 
 organic matter it begins to ferment and becomes a nuisance. 
 Strict search should be made for the corner in which such 
 bodily nuisances originate, and these thoroughly deodorized, 
 and all pains taken to prevent their recurrence; for latterly 
 we are coming to believe that much of our disease comes 
 from bodily filth and its results. A wonderful change has 
 come in public opinion since the time of the Middle Ages 
 in regard to the matter of dirt. 
 
 The early Church so far forgot Moses's teachings on this 
 subject that filth and sanctity were supposed to be necessa- 
 rily associated. Like the East Indian fakirs of to-day, the 
 greater their personal uncleanliness the greater the odor of 
 sanctity, and other odors, doubtless, as well. There is, for in- 
 stance, a Church tradition, and a most improbable one too, that 
 St. James never took a bath, and a much better authenticated 
 one concerning St. Anthony, whose biographer declares that 
 " up to extreme age he never even washed his feet, and yet 
 was healthier than those who bathe and often change their 
 clothes." (No wonder he is the patron saint of erysipelas.) 
 Saint Hilarion must have been a kindred spirit, for history 
 relates that he never washed the sackcloth which he wore 
 until it rotted off, like the rags of an Egyptian hermit 
 spoken of in highest praise by St. Jerome. The last named 
 saint only combed his hair on Easter Sunday, and, like St. 
 Abraham of Edessa, never was known to wash his face. 
 " The fourth century," says a recent writer on this subject, 
 " was the religious apotheosis of dirt, not because the her- 
 mits and Church had any quarrel with clean skins, but be- 
 cause of the sensuous delight and comfort of bathing in hot 
 climates. Bathing was one of the luxuries renounced at 
 baptism, and fulminated against by various bishops and 
 councils as late as the fifteenth century." 
 
 " Like priest, like people," brought its inevitable results in 
 the way of plague, black death, and the other awful epidemics 
 
136 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 of the Middle Ages. With our modern resources of quaran- 
 tine and cleanliness, we can have no just idea of the terror 
 and fearful mortality produced by these tilth diseases. Black 
 death, for instance, between the years 1333-1348, is believed 
 to have killed upward of 45,000,000 persons. The very means 
 devised by the Church to stay their progress — namely, 
 masses, processions, and flagellations — were exactly those 
 which assisted the spread of contagious diseases, for such 
 they were. The general dispersion of the people from their 
 filthy abodes at last brought these diseases to a close, not 
 because, as was then believed, the wrath of an angry God was 
 calmed, but because his creatures had ceased violating the 
 unchangeable laws of health. 
 
 Medicine is often reproached with its slow advance com- 
 pared with other sciences, but it should be always remem- 
 bered that medicine has made such epidemics impossible 
 again. A better knowledge of the spread of contagious 
 diseases, of the value of quarantine and the danger of filth 
 has brought this to pass. According to Erasmus, the filth 
 of the English home, in his times, must have been almost 
 past endurance; for not only the hovels of the poor but the 
 homes of the well-to-do had their floors of clay covered with 
 rushes, instead of carppts, under which lay an unmolested 
 accumulation of half-picked bones, decaying grease, stale 
 beer, and other unmentionable things which need not be 
 described with the particularity of Erasmus. The table 
 manners of those days (1457-1536) were equally startling, if 
 we may judge from some of the don'ts of the books of the 
 etiquette of that time. For instance, we find that it was 
 considered "uncomely to spit on the table," and "improper, 
 after rinsing the mouth, to reject the water into the basin 
 again," as others would wash their mouths from the same 
 vessel. Handkerchiefs and forks were entirely unknown to 
 Englishmen, when it was good form to hold the "joint in the 
 left hand and carve with the other; after which the fingers 
 should be wiped on the shirt, and not on the table-cloth." 
 Small wonder that with such habits there came dreadful 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation. 137 
 
 diseases like the sweating sickness, the black death, and the 
 plague. The proper care of the body and our homes has 
 abolished, forever, as it seems, these dread pests. Our mod- 
 ern epidemics are insignificant as compared with those of 
 the Middle Ages, and the most dreaded of these — cholera — 
 could probably be practically annihilated by proper sanitary 
 regulation of the pilgrim gatherings at Mecca and on the 
 Ganges. (See page 68.) Public health can only be ob- 
 tained by individual cleanliness, and this implies that our 
 bodies, like our houses, shall be well-ventilated and clean 
 outside as well as in. To be happy and well requires that 
 we shall be clean, within and without. 
 
 I. The skin must be able to perform its duties properly. 
 The structure of the skin has already been described (page 
 14), and does not need repetition here further than to call 
 attention to the fact that it is more than an elastic bag, in 
 which are held the muscles and bones. The skin is both 
 a secreting and excreting organ as well. The distinction 
 between a secretion and excretion is this : A secretion is a 
 substance formed for further use by the body, while an 
 excretion is a substance that is taken away, because useless 
 or dangerous to the body. The tears, for instance, are secre- 
 tions, for the reason that they are needed to 'wash away 
 irritating substances from the eyes, while urea is an excretion 
 whose continuance in the body produces convulsions and 
 death. Secretion and excretion are performed mainly by 
 bodies known as glands, located in various parts of the body, 
 and modified in shape in accordance with the work they are 
 expected to perform. We find two varieties of glands 
 in the skin by which it carries off about one fourth of the 
 liquid sewerage of the body. The sebaceous glands have al- 
 ready been described, and the other and more important of 
 the glands of the skin are the sudoriferous glands, so named 
 from the Latin word for perspiration. These sweat glands, 
 already figured on page 14, number over two million, and 
 consist of spiral tubes, each about one fourth of an inch long, 
 but so numerous that they aggregate in length about two and 
 
138 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 a half miles. They are not uniformly distributed over the body, 
 being less in number on the back and neck (four hundred to the 
 square inch) and most frequent on the face, palms of the hands, 
 and soles of the feet. In a bright light on a warm day the 
 moisture can be seen to ooze from the open ends of these 
 sweat-glands in minute drops; hence the disagreeable moisture 
 of the hands in bashful persons, for the quantity of perspira- 
 tion is regulated by the amount of blood in the capillaries, 
 and this, as we have seen, is under the control of the nervous 
 system (see Chapter VII.). 
 
 A limited amount of perspiration always takes place even in 
 the coldest weather, as may be proven by wrapping a limb for 
 some time in an impermeable substance, as a piece of India 
 rubber, and examining it after a few hours. Although the rest 
 of the body appears perfectly dry, that beneath the rubber will 
 be found moist, and if the wrapper has been kept long enough 
 in place it will have a decidedly unpleasant odor from the re- 
 tained excretions; or, mother words, invisible perspiration is 
 constantly taking place, but is unnoticed unless its evaporation 
 is prevented. Clothing in a measure does this, and hence 
 is wisely laid off at night to allow this insensible perspiration 
 to escape, and even then at length clothing acquires a goat-like 
 odor, due to the volatile fatty acids which escape with the 
 perspiration. This can be in a measure removed by baking 
 the offensive clothing when it cannot be washed, but the ap- 
 pearance of such odor is either proof of the need of more 
 frequent bathing, or that the clothing has been worn for too 
 long a time and ought to be destroyed, and fresh underwear 
 and bathing employed. 
 
 Much that goes under the name of a bath as little resem- 
 bles it as the historic one prescribed for the Duke of Gloucester, 
 which was thus prepared: " Five or six large sponges were first 
 placed upon the floor for the duke to sit or lie upon, and a 
 larger sponge was then placed in the middle of the room with 
 a sheet spread over it, after which the duke, having been 
 stripped, was made to sit upon the largest sponge, while an- 
 other dipped in a hot decoction of herbs was to be lightly passed 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation. 139 
 
 over the body; after which rose-water was splashed over 
 him, as a rinsing. The duke was then dried by being wrapped 
 in a sheet and marched off to bed to cure his troubles." This 
 was the ideal bath in the times of Shakespeare, for it was for 
 one of his characters that this particular bath was ordered 
 and administered, to what advantage we may readily guess. A 
 bath to be efficient for cleansing thoroughly the skin ought to be 
 warm, and large enough in quantity to cover the whole body, 
 and long enough continued to wash free the dried epi- 
 dermis and sebaceous matter which clog the openings of the 
 glands. 
 
 Perfect health requires, for two reasons, that the glands of 
 the skins should act efficiently: 1. The sweat-glands thus prompt- 
 ly relieve the blood of any excess of liquids. How quickly this 
 is done may be tested by drinking in succession two or three 
 glasses of cold water on a warm clay. Hardly is the last one 
 swallowed before the whole surface of the body is covered 
 with moisture. To produce this the absorbents of the 
 stomach must have taken up the water and, via the lymphatics, 
 carried it into the current of the circulation. The slight ex- 
 cess of fluid was sufficient to distend the capillaries of the 
 skin. This distension and thinness of the blood caused its 
 watery portion to transude through the frail walls of the capil- 
 lary and into the cavity of the sudoriferous tubes, from whose 
 open ends it exudes upon the surface of the body in less time 
 than it has taken to tell of it. Perspiration thus relieves the 
 tension of the blood-vessels, and carries off dangerous sub- 
 stances from the body. So important is this function that to 
 coat the body with varnish or with gold leaf, as once did one of 
 the popes with a slave in a triumphal procession, inevitably 
 produces death, from the inability of the kidneys to carry off 
 effete material : 2. But perspiration does more than this. 
 Its further duty is to regulate the external heat of the body. 
 Evaporation of any kind requires heat to be abstracted from 
 gome neighboring body. The evaporation from the surface 
 of the body is carried on under the same laws as elsewhere, 
 but within our own bodies we find this beautiful provision in 
 
140 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 regard to heat ; namely, that the warmer we become the more 
 we perspire, the more we perepire the greater the evapora- 
 tion of this perspiration, and hence the more rapid the cool, 
 ing of the body. The sudoriferous glands, then, are a sort of 
 heat regulator for the body, and so well do they perform their 
 work that we have little fear of sunstroke so long as one per- 
 spires freely; but when perspiration does not appear on a 
 sultry day, sunstroke, or heat apoplexy, is not far off. (Sun- 
 stroke, until the doctor comes, can be best treated with ice 
 or cold applications to the head, and plenty of cool water 
 poured over the overheated body.) A dry, branny skin is 
 always to be looked upon with suspicion, for unless it can be 
 made to properly perform its work it is very apt to sooner or 
 later result in some obstinate skin disease or kidney trouble. 
 The amount of water that may pass through the skin with- 
 out injury is remarkable, as for instance at the Swansea cop- 
 per furnaces, where the thermometer at the chest of the 
 stoker marks 120 degrees and that at his back but 50 de- 
 grees. To meet this intolerable heat he drinks freely, at least 
 two or three gallons daily, and perspires accordingly — 500 to 
 COO gallons a year — and yet is none the worse for it, but lives 
 to a hearty old age. Sweating is often disagreeable, to put 
 it mildly, but it is so valuable a discomfort that it is far bet- 
 ter to perspire than carry about with us the pound and a half 
 of dangerous material that it is designed to relieve us of 
 daily. The only precautions to be observed in the matter are 
 that we must not allow this effete material to gather in our 
 clothes, nor ourselves to become chilled when moist with per- 
 spiration. The amount of perspiration determines the fre- 
 quency of bathing required, but the minimum should be a 
 weekly bath, apropos of which Dr. Hunt very candidly remarks, 
 " We have never known a person by nature so cleanly as not 
 to be benefited by at least a weekly bath." His further sug- 
 gestion that the best time for taking a bath is at night is worth 
 remembering. A sponging of the neck, head, and chest on 
 rising is also an excellent tonic, and as preventive of sore 
 throat and colds is not sufficiently appreciated. 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation. 141 
 
 A climate so changeable as ours requires woolen under- 
 wear, of varying weight for different seasons of the year, as 
 the only safeguard against chilling of the surface of the 
 body. There is a great difference in the susceptibility of the 
 skin in persons, but even the most sensitive one will tolerate 
 the long-fibered woolen garment, and where this cannot be 
 afforded, the lighter grades of flannels can be used with a 
 muslin garment beneath. The value of such protection of 
 the body can hardly be overestimated, for it keeps the skin 
 gently stimulated to action and prevents the congestion of 
 internal organs, which happens whenever the blood is driven 
 from the surface of the body. Flannel well deserves a high 
 place in the doctor's regard, for the physician who attempts 
 to cure rheumatism, bowel, or kidney troubles without its aid 
 has thrown away his best medicine. 
 
 In these latter days kidney diseases have become the bug- 
 bear of all intelligent readers. There is hardly a board fence 
 or a religious paper that does not serve to advertise some 
 one's sure cure for Bright's disease, until one is sorely tempted 
 to wish that Dr. Bright had kept his discoveries secret. 
 Quack almanacs and Safe Cures have gathered so rich a har- 
 vest that it would almost be better for the world at large if 
 they could believe with the ancient Jews that the kidneys 
 were the home of the affections. The kidneys, or reins, as they 
 were formerly called, are simple sacs in the lowest animals, 
 but as the animal rises in the scale of organization the kid- 
 neys become more intricate, until in man they are so complex 
 that it is hardly possible to describe them properly without 
 further illustrations than can be here used. Essentially, how- 
 ever, the kidneys are clusters of sudoriferous glands which 
 do their sweating inside of the body, and whose tubes bear the 
 name of urinif erous tubules instead of sweat-glands. Through 
 these tubes the watery portion of the blood filters through 
 the kidneys, very like the perspiration on the surface of the 
 body; and in fact in the older works on physiology the kid- 
 neys and skin are spoken of as the common eniunctories (fil- 
 ters) of the body. The work of the one can in a measure 
 
142 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 be done by the other, as is seen in summer, when the secretion 
 from the kidneys is small and that from the skin profuse, 
 while in winter exactly the contrary is found. A cross sec- 
 tion of a human kidney shows that it is made up of two parts, 
 a cortical, or outer, and an inner, or medulla, composed of 
 eight to twenty cones, the so-called pyramids, whose apexes 
 point toward a central cavity, from which a tube about the 
 size of a goose-quill runs to the bladder. On the apexes of 
 the cones are found a multitude of minute openings which 
 correspond to the opening of the sweat-glands upon the sur- 
 face of the body, and through which fluid is likewise con- 
 tinually passing, by filtration from the blood. The tubes 
 on the skin are called sudoriferous tubes, in the kidney they 
 are known as the uriniferous tubules, and if we follow up one 
 of these tubules from the kidney, from its opening on the 
 
 surface of a pyramid, we shall 
 find that it terminates in a dila- 
 tation not unlike those found in 
 the sweat-glands. The dilatation 
 in the urinary tubule is known 
 as the Malpighian (from its dis- 
 coverer, Malpighi) capsule (see 
 figure b), which incloses within it 
 a network of capillaries (glomer- 
 ulus) given off from the branches 
 of the renal artery. Through this 
 tuft of capillaries the liquid ref- 
 use of the blood exudes and 
 passes into the tubule, making its 
 way down this until it at last 
 reaches the bladder. The Mal- 
 pighian capsule, then, is a funnel, and the glomerulus a net- 
 work of delicate filters to extract from the renal blood what 
 should be carried away from the body as liquid sewerage. 
 The quantity of this varies considerably with the season of 
 the year and the amount of liquid taken, but the total urine 
 should be slightly above the amount of water taken during 
 
 Urinary tubule. (Huxley.) 
 
SE WEE AGE AND VENTILATION. 143 
 
 the twenty-four hours. A persistent variation from this in- 
 dicates something wrong in our plumbing department. The 
 most frequent error arises from too sparing a use of water to 
 avoid annoyance. Professor Vaughan says very plainly on this 
 subject: " The merchant goes behind his counter, and to avoid 
 frequent visits to the water-closet drinks but little water. 
 The same mistake is made by ladies who are out in society 
 much, and by the student who does not wish to be interrupted 
 in his studies by the calls of nature; but the result is that the 
 urine becomes small in amount, strongly acid, of high specific 
 gravity, and deposits urates, uric acid, or oxalate of lime 
 which produce irritation of the bladder, or even gravel." 
 
 A false squeamishness in these matters often inflicts perma- 
 nent injury, for the urinary apparatus is a delicate bit of 
 machinery, lined with epithelium as sensitive as that on the 
 lips, and so located that when once diseased it inflicts serious 
 injury upon the kidney. By reference to the cut on page 142, 
 it will be seen that the entire length of the urinary tubule is 
 lined with epithelium. This when diseased or removed by 
 sickness allows the fibrinous part of the blood to escape into 
 the tube and there solidify and form a " cast," or it may 
 escape so rapidly that the person dies of exhaustion. Such 
 injury to the tubules constitutes Bright's disease, apparently 
 upon the increase in America, from a variety of causes, chief 
 among which may be noticed mental strain and a too largely 
 meat diet and exposure to cold and wet, etc. The nervous 
 theory of kidney disease may not be generally accepted, but it 
 is well known that the nervous system has a marked influence 
 in the matter. Fright or hysteria may largely increase the 
 urine, and, per contra, irritation of the nerves which supply 
 the vessels of the kidney has, according to Huxley, the im- 
 mediate effect of stopping the excretion of urine. And, 
 lastly, any physician who has carefully watched the prog- 
 ress of a chronic case of kidney trouble will tell you that 
 business anxieties and responsibilities invariably aggravate 
 such cases, whose only chance for permanent recovery is to 
 escape from all kind of anxiety, dress warmly, and avoid a 
 
144 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 too largely animal diet. The latter is strongly insisted upon 
 by Fothergill, and with a good show of reason, for those na- 
 tions that are most largely meat-eaters are those most afflicted 
 with kidney troubles. The reason given for this is as fol- 
 lows: Nitrogenous foods are exuded from the body as urea. 
 Meat is our most largely nitrogenous food. Excess of urea 
 stimulates the kidneys to overaction. The more meat, the 
 more urea, the greater the stimulation of the kidney to its 
 own hurt. Next to Australia, we are the greatest meat-eaters 
 on the face of the earth, and consequently, says Fothergill, 
 grievously afflicted with kidney affections. The red or white 
 sediment often found in the urine is often a cause of anxiety, 
 but it has no causal relation to kidney disease, and usually 
 indicates, as has already been said, that sufficient water is 
 not being taken to keep the drainage pipes well flushed out. 
 More water generally will cure the majority of these cases, 
 except where a cayenne pepper deposit persists. This means, 
 where the means mentioned above have been faithfully 
 tried, that more animal diet is being taken than can be 
 burned up in the system. Nature's method of warming the 
 body is to* burn up its garbage to a soluble ash, which can 
 be readily washed out of the body. This ash is known as 
 urea, and is so soluble that it never forms sand or gravel. 
 If, however, the body's fuel is not perfectly consumed it forms 
 an ash, or clinker, which cannot thus be washed away, and 
 this clinker is the red sand (uric acid) just described. 
 
 The place where the conversion of uric acid to urea ought 
 to take place is in the liver, next to be described; but before 
 considering this, just a word further concerning the hygiene 
 of the sewage of the body. It contains substances danger- 
 ous if retained in the body, for a continued failure of the 
 kidneys to act invariably produces death with convulsions 
 (uraemia.) Scarcely less dangerous is the retention of other 
 refuse in the body. It is a slouchy servant who does not 
 clean away the ashes from her kitchen stove at least once a 
 day, and we are poor tenants if we cannot do as much for the 
 house in which we live. Habit is second nature in this as in 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation. 145 
 
 many other less important matters, and those are healthiest 
 and live longest who are scrupulous in this. Its neglect 
 brings a bad breath, a sallow skin, headache, and loss of ap- 
 petite, as it ought, for the whole body is poisoned by the 
 re-absorption of poisonous matters that ought to have been 
 voided from the body. But carelessness, or some seem- 
 ingly more important engagement, is allowed to interfere 
 with what ought to be as faithfully attended to as washing 
 the hands and face, until the house of clay becomes truly 
 filthy, and then comes a bilious attack. 
 
 And what is a so-called bilious attack ? It is simply nat- 
 ure's house-cleaning, and fully as inconvenient as its domestic 
 namesake. One of the duties, and in the opinion of the 
 writer the chief duty, of the liver is to burn up, or oxidize, 
 certain substances no longer of use in the body. One of 
 these is uric acid, just mentioned, but if there is too much 
 of this uric acid turned in upon the liver to be readily dis- 
 posed of, the liver refuses at first to work, sulks awhile, then 
 turns every thing upside down within us in its efforts to turn 
 out the offending substances. This emeate we call a bilious 
 attack, and it certainly efficiently accomplishes what it sets 
 out to do; but one such strike begets another, and in a little 
 time we find a liver prone to rebel on the slightest excuse, 
 and thoroughly not to be depended upon. The liver is one 
 of the worst abused and least understood organs in the body. 
 The ancients thought its chief duty was to secrete black 
 bile, and that blacli bile was synonymous with melancholy, 
 for the Greeks believed that the soul resided in the liver, and 
 in their language melancholy and black bile mean one and 
 the same thing. We have learned that there are other causes 
 for melancholy than black bile, but that there are none more 
 efficient than a disordered liver. Whether we think life 
 worth living depends largely upon the condition of the body's 
 chemical works, for to such a factory the liver can be well 
 likened. 
 
 It lies in regions 1 and 2, figured in Plate I, and, as may 
 be seen by the annexed cut, it is abundantly supplied with 
 V 
 
146 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 blood-vessels, so much so that the liver acts as a sort 
 of siding into which are switched trains of both venous 
 and arterial blood for a transfer of their freight. Much 
 of this, gathered up by the veins from the stomach, 
 intestines, pancreas, etc., is hurtful, and must be rapidly 
 
 excreted or it will bring 
 damage to the body. 
 This the liver effects by 
 working over these ref- 
 use materials in such a 
 way that they either be- 
 come harmless or are 
 transformed into new 
 substances of further 
 value. Its method of 
 disposing of uric acid 
 has already been spoken 
 of, and the formation of 
 
 bile is an instance of 
 Diagram op the Circulation in the Lobules ., _ T . » 
 
 of the liver. the second. It is one ot 
 
 a, a. Intralobular veins, ib, b. Interlobular the triumphs of modern 
 yeina - chemistry that it can ex- 
 
 tract from useless coal-tar carbolic acid and other valuable sub- 
 stances, but long before modern antiseptics were dreamed of 
 the liver was patiently making, in bile, one of the most efficient 
 preservatives yet discovered. But bile is more than this, for 
 it not only prevents the decomposition of food, but also, as 
 nature's castor oil, emulsifies fats and carries off the excess of 
 carbon and hydrogen from the blood, thus purifying it. The 
 failure to do this in the spring, or rather our stupidity in 
 forcing the liver to dispose of the same amount of hydro- 
 carbons as during the cold of winter (see page 91), brings 
 on what is familiarly known as spring fever, for which our 
 grandfathers were not irrationally bled. A wiser thing, 
 however, is to eat such food (see Chapter IV) as shall not force 
 extra work upon a liver already overtaxed with a winter's 
 buckwheat cakes. These, like the Esquimaux' whale blub- 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation. 147 
 
 ber, are excellent fuel for the heat required during the win- 
 ter, but when the spring brings a milder temperature they 
 are as useless and harmful as it would be to keep a furnace 
 running all summer; and worse than that, for the liver, so to 
 speak, burns itself out in the process. It clogs like another 
 furnace under the same mistreatment, and its unfortunate 
 owner suffers from its smoke in the shape of a crop of boils. 
 All this because we abuse one of the most important organs 
 of the body, in spite of its protests in the way of headache, 
 loss of appetite, and general lassitude, whose rational treat- 
 ment has already been spoken of in Chapter IV. 
 
 Moreover, there is good reason to believe that a healthy 
 liver is necessary to destroy certain poisonous compounds that 
 are continually being formed in the body. This was first 
 proven by Drs. Schiff and Lautenbach of Geneva, who found 
 that tying the portal vein — the great vein which brings blood 
 to the liver — in the lower animals produces a tendency to 
 sleep, loss of sensibility in general, slowing of the pulse, ster- 
 torous respiration, and death without convulsions in a few 
 hours. Ligation of the hepatic viens produced no such effect, 
 wherefore Dr. Lautenbach believes that these symptons are 
 due to the accumulation in the blood of a poisonous substance, 
 or substances, which normally are destroyed in the liver. 
 This is furthermore proven by the fact that blood taken from 
 the circulation of one of the animals whose portal vein had 
 been tied invariably produced toxic symptoms when injected 
 into another animal ; while the same animal had remained 
 unaffected when injected with blood before the ligation of 
 the portal vein. Schiff was unable properly to isolate the 
 poison thus produced, but considered it volatile, and antag- 
 onistic in its action to nicotine, conia, and hyoscyamus. 
 
 .More recently it has been rendered more than probable that 
 the poison found at such times in the blood belongs to those 
 known at the present as leucomaines. Careful experiment 
 proves thai these Leucomaines are constantly being formed in 
 the body, and unless they are neutralized invariably produce 
 symptoms like those described by Schiif. Selmi discovered 
 
148 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 some years ago certain poisonous alkaloids of putrefaction 
 to which he gave the name of ptomaines. Gauthier subse- 
 quently found analogous poisonous alkaloids in the living 
 healthy body ; these he named leucomaines to distinguish 
 them from the alkaloids of putrefaction. The leucomaines are 
 being carefully studied in their relation to health by the 
 French physicians, foremost among whom are M. Peter and 
 Professor Bouchard. Gauthier thinks he has succeeded in 
 isolating no less than five of these alkaloids from the muscular 
 juice of the larger animals. These leucomaines, he believes, 
 are formed in life largely by the action of oxygen. For 
 instance, thought is attended with heat, and heat pro- 
 duces, according to Gauthier, in the brain neurin, an alka- 
 loid injurious to life ; muscular movements similarly form 
 creatinine and the alkaloids mentioned above. All of the 
 working organs of the body are now supposed to form these 
 leucomaines; for example, according to Kossel, in the pancreas 
 and spleen can be found adenine, derived from the cell nuclein. 
 Adenine, when tested upon the lower animals, produces paral- 
 ysis of the vasomotor system, congestion of the lungs, liver, 
 and kidneys. The kidneys, if Bouchard's experiments can 
 be relied upon, carry off no less than seven of these leuco- 
 maines from the body, and the remainder are destroyed in the 
 liver, whither they are carried by the portal circulation. 
 Some of these, or others, are doubtless excreted constantly 
 through the skin, for the evil effects of coating it with var- 
 nish, or having it destroyed by burning, have long been 
 known. Death in the latter cases results not from shock, 
 but from the retention in the system of substances which are 
 normally carried off through the skin. Life is then not 
 merely an eddy, as Huxley describes it, but also almost a pro- 
 longed suicide, for we are constantly producing these leuco- 
 maines, and if they are not speedily removed or destroyed 
 they produce disease and death. Health is the equilibrium 
 between a proper production and elimination of toxic sub- 
 stances which are prepared within the body by the action of 
 its own organs ; disease is often due to accumulation of these 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation. 149 
 
 poisonous materials within the body, an auto-intoxication, 
 as it is called (intoxication, whether from alcohol or 
 other causes, means and is poisoning). The leucomaine 
 poisons are derived from digestive changes in the food in the 
 intestinal canal, and from changes within the tissues them- 
 selves. The contents of the intestines, according to Bouchard, 
 are particularly poisonous, and their re-absorption undoubtedly 
 produces what is known as the typhoid state or condition. 
 Fortunately, in a sound body this rarely takes place, because 
 of the disposition of the leucomaines, already spoken of. No 
 wonder then that a crippled liver casts a man into gloom ; 
 but it is not the liver per se that depresses the entire man, 
 but the poisons that the man has generated within himself 
 and is unable to carry off without the liver's aid. Truly we 
 are fearfully and wonderfully made, and nowhere is this 
 more perfectly shown than in the daily balance between life 
 and poisoning, through which we all hope to struggle for 
 seventy years or more. The wonder is not that we die, 
 but that we live at all, shut in and hemmed around by 
 dangers seen and unseen, not the least of which are the 
 poisons we make ourselves and invisible bacteria hereafter to 
 be described. Perfect sewerage is the price of health, in our 
 bodies no less than in our houses, and any deviation from this 
 is sure to bring its penalty. In the case of the body, as in our 
 homes, one of the surest means of suspecting that something 
 is out of the way is the appearance of disagreeable odors. 
 Such warning we have when the breath grows fetid, as it 
 always does when food decomposes in the body instead of 
 being digested. This putrefaction may take place in the 
 stomach, but more frequently occurs lower down in the in- 
 testinal canal. The favorite location for this decomposition 
 of |'<>od is the sigmoid flexure and descending colon, where 
 the partially digested food is prone to lodge and by the re- 
 absorption of the gases thus generated poison the breath. 
 Pain and tenderness in these regions, a fetid breath, and ;i 
 persistently sallow skin with constant weariness indicate this 
 slow poisoning and call for a physician's advice, without 
 
150 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 which the case is prone to run into an invalidism whose 
 cause is often undreamed of. (Region IX, Plate I.) 
 
 An unpleasant breath, as has elsewhere been said, may also 
 proceed from chronic disease of the lungs, nose, or throat; 
 but these have other so well marked symptoms that their ori- 
 gin can hardly escape one's attention. That just alluded to 
 is so remote from its cause that it often passes unsuspected. 
 We also find in many of these cases the tonsils endeavor to 
 do extra work, and become enlarged and show cheesy masses 
 in their folds. This is not diphtheria, though often treated 
 as such, but a little forced energjr on the part of the glands 
 on the surface of the tonsils to carry off poisonous substances. 
 These cheesy excretions are very prone to decompose 
 and poison the breath, especially of one who has the bad 
 habit of breathing through the opened mouth instead of 
 through the nose as nature intended. The nasal passages are 
 especially designed to warm the air passing through them be- 
 fore it reaches the lungs. Indians are said to judge of a 
 man's courage by his ability to keep his mouth shut, and pos- 
 Bibly from them, with whom he spent many years of his life, 
 George Catlin derived the ideas embodied in his little pam- 
 phlet, Keep Your Mouth Shut. It is capital reading, even yet. 
 After many years of careful observation, among both civilized 
 and uncivilized nations, Catlin came to the conclusion that 
 " those who hunt about open-mouthed, like chub or trout," are 
 never healthy nor long-lived. So important did Catlin es- 
 teem his subject that he concludes his little book in this way: 
 " If I had a million dollars I would spend it in printing four 
 million of my books and distributing them to four million 
 mothers, rich and poor. I would not obtain therefor any 
 monument or decoration of nobility, but I would have ob- 
 tained the peculiarly joyful satisfaction of knowing that I 
 had left to posterity a legacy of much higher value than 
 money can ever have." Catlin, in the main, was right; for, 
 to say nothing of the air of vacant stupidity imparted to the 
 countenance from going about with the mouth half opened, 
 the practice is positively injurious. Inhalation through the 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation. 151 
 
 nose warms the air and frees it from dust during its passage 
 downward. Nor is it a matter of chance that there is so 
 direct a passage for the air via the nose to the windpipe. 
 The root of the tongue and the soft palate veiy materially 
 interfere with free breathing through the mouth, while a 
 probe carried along the floor of the nostril soon finds itself 
 in an opening behind the soft palate and directly over the 
 windpipe, or the tube conveying the air to the lungs. You 
 can trace this tube down the neck with your fingers until it 
 disappears behind the top of the breast-bone. If you were 
 inside of it you would see that it divides there into a right 
 and left branch, going respectively to the right and left 
 lungs, where it branches and rebranches into the bronchial 
 tubes {bronchioles), which finally end in little cells. The 
 bronchial tubes are at first cartilaginous, or rubbery, like the 
 windpipe; but as they descend this cartilage vanishes and 
 the bronchioles, at last, become only soft, flexible tubes of 
 muscle and mucous membrane. The mucous membrane of 
 the lungs is peculiar on account of its covering of waving 
 hairs — ciliated epithelium — which keep fanning the air in 
 and out of these delicate tubes and air-cells (alveoli). These 
 alveoli or air-cells (one fortieth to one seventy-fifth of an 
 inch) look like a bunch of tiny grapes from the outside; in- 
 side they are literally little cells opening into one another, 
 whose walls are frescoed every-where with the tints of the 
 smallest conceivable blood-vessels. These minute vessels (cap- 
 illaries) have walls thinner than the most delicate blotting- 
 paper. Through these cell walls the exchange of gases be- 
 tween the blood and the air -takes place under the most favor- 
 able circumstances. Gases will pass through animal mem- 
 branes like water through filter paper, and in these delicate 
 air-cells the venous blood is separated from its necessary oxy- 
 gen only by tihis frail partition of membrane. Through this 
 carbon -dioxide quickly finds its way and diffuses itself 
 through the air in the lungs, while the oxygen of the air 
 unites with the haemoglobin of the blood, as already described 
 (page 107), and is by it carried the round of the circulation to be 
 
152 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 again exchanged for carbonic acid gas. Just how or where 
 this exchange is made is not yet definitely known. It re- 
 quires a more intimate knowledge of physiological chemistry 
 than is yet possessed; for man is the modern miracle of the 
 burning bush, which is perpetually burning and yet never 
 consumed. The results of this combustion are invaluable to 
 us, for upon them hang our warmth and the possibility of 
 living at all. Without this oxidation of disused tissues we 
 should either be swathed in unbearable fat or poisoned with 
 leucomaines, just described. And all this is done so quietly 
 and easily that we never stop to think any thing about what 
 is being done unless there is an interference somewhere in 
 the process. Chemists are acquainted with more than thirty 
 compounds produced by the action of the oxygen of the blood 
 on the tissues, and the failure to form any one of these disturbs 
 more or less the whole economy of the body. Curiously 
 enough, but three of these are ordinarily excreted by the 
 lungs, and these form nature's soda-water, if not in exactly the 
 same proportion as that of the shops, which contains, besides the 
 water, only carbon-dioxide and syrup. Respiration amounts 
 finally to the air hurrying down and paying priceless oxygen 
 in exchange for the vilest soda-water, compounded of water, 
 carbon dioxide, and too often flavored with onions, whisky, 
 or tobacco. It would be a fair criticism to say that the soda- 
 water furnished by the blood is an outrageous swindle; for 
 there is a great deal too much dioxide for the water, and as 
 for its syrup — pugh ! To tell the truth, no sooner is the 
 trade made than the air seems disgusted with it, and by the 
 help of the ciliated epithelium climbs up and out of the wind- 
 pipe and hurries off to the plants, which are nature's verita- 
 ble old junk-men, buying up all sorts of cast-off things and 
 paying in precious oxygen. This trading has been going on 
 ever since the first breath of life, and for all w» can see must 
 go on until there shall be a new heaven and a new earth. 
 The best that we can do is to see that fair play is given in 
 both of the trades, but to do this you must keep a sharp 
 lookout on carbon-dioxide, which will play you many a mean 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation. 153 
 
 trick if not well watched. Carbon, or charcoal, in its various 
 forms, is one of our most useful possessions; but burn it and 
 it gives rise to this colorless, transparent gas, which ought to 
 be excluded from all decent society. But this gas finds its way 
 in almost every-where. We use up daily about a coffee-cup 
 of water and a bit of charcoal about the same size in making 
 that vile mixture which was politely called soda-water, but 
 which is really damp carbon-dioxide. It is a narcotic poison, 
 worse than liquor; for whisky gives its poor victims at least 
 a short period of happiness, while carbon-dioxide only stupe- 
 fies and leaves him with a worse headache the next morning, 
 or a very little more kills him. If you have any doubt of it, 
 read some of those fearful stories of ignorance, such as that 
 of the famous Black Hole of Calcutta, where one hundred 
 and forty-six men were shut up in a room eighteen feet 
 square, and in the morning one hundred and twenty-six were 
 found dead and the larger portion of those remaining died 
 after their release from fever contracted during that fearful 
 night. But that is not the worst thing that carbon-dioxide 
 ever did, for such places as the Black Hole put us on our 
 guard; but there are thousands — principally women — who 
 are slowly being poisoned to death by close rooms and bad air. 
 I have often wished that this carbon-dioxide was as black as 
 ink, so that we might know of its coming; but though it has 
 not this cuttle-fish power, it gives no less certain warning of 
 its coming if you will only watch for it. Drowsiness, head- 
 ache, and the corpse-like smell of too many of our churches 
 and school-rooms tell you in a most convincing way what I 
 mean. It is not always the fault of the preacher or teacher 
 that thoughts will wander and the head grow weary. There 
 is more than one prayer-meeting which needs, instead of 
 singing, "My drowsy powers, why sleep ye so? Awake 
 my sluggish soul!" to have its sexton open the windows. 
 15;i<l air is always a poison, whether found in a church or a 
 slum, and any air becomes bad air by being breathed over 
 and over again. 
 
 The crying sins of the modern house are its small sleeping- 
 >7* 
 
154 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 rooms and its lack of proper ventilation. The sleeping-room 
 ought to be the largest and airiest room in the house, and 
 preferably on the second floor, and heated, if possible, with 
 an open grate fire. Such should always be the room selected 
 for a run of fever or other protracted sickness; for in no 
 other way can a room be so easily and thoroughly ventilated 
 as by a draft of hot air up an open chimney. Failing this, 
 two hundred and fifty to three hundred cubic feet of space 
 should be supplied for each person in the room for the night, 
 and provision made for removing six hundred and fifty 
 cubic feet of vitiated air per hour. Less cubic contents per 
 person is unsafe, and will certainly result in carbonic acid 
 poisoning of a milder or severer type. Much of that which 
 passes for sewer-gas poisoning is simply the result of sleep- 
 ing in unventilated rooms; for Dr. Harwood says most justly 
 on this subject: "The want of wholesome air does not mani- 
 fest itself on the system imperatively; no urgent sensation 
 being produced, like that of hunger, there is great danger of 
 mistaking its indications. The effects of the absence of pure 
 air are only slowly and insidiously produced, and thus too 
 frequently are overlooked until the constitution is generally 
 impaired and the body equally enfeebled." 
 
 The difficulties, however, in northern climates of efficiently 
 ventilating a modern house without expensive apparatus or dan- 
 gerous draughts are such that with most builders the whole 
 subject is neglected, and the only resource left us is the win- 
 dow. In moderate weather a room can be well ventilated by 
 this, by raising the lower sash an inch or so and placing be- 
 neath it a tightly fitting board. This leaves an opening be- 
 tween the upper and lower sash about the middle of the win- 
 dow, through which fair ventilation takes place without direct 
 drafts of cold air. No thoroughly efficient and cheap method, 
 so far as the writer is informed, of winter ventilation has yet 
 been devised for private dwellings, although many excellent 
 devices for larger edifices are in operation where a steam- 
 engine and blower can be used. The best that can be done 
 in an ordinary dwelling during the winter is to rely upon 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation. 155 
 
 small holes bored in the upper part of the sash into which 
 small bent tubes or elbows pointing upward may be inserted 
 with valves to open or shut as required. But even with 
 these the temperature in different parts of our living rooms 
 varies too greatly for the health of children and feeble adults. 
 Dr. Benjamin's careful investigations show that with a tem- 
 perature of seventy-five at the level of an adult's head, the 
 floor registers only fifty degrees, and this in a well built brick 
 house with a warmed cellar. In similar rooms the tempera- 
 ture at the ceiling was ninety, four feet from an ordinary 
 window seventy, one foot from the window fifty, and at the 
 window forty degrees. Or, in other words, a little child finds 
 a difference of twenty-five degrees, Fahrenheit, between sitting 
 in its mother's lap and playing on the floor, and between 
 thirty and forty degrees from the neighborhood of the stove 
 and the window, which is probably one of the reasons that 
 keeping little children in bed is no small factor in their recov- 
 ery from cold and the minor ailments of childhood. Thin 
 shoes, even in the house, are dangerous experiments, for the 
 reasons given above, and sunshine, a frequent change of 
 rooms, and a free ventilation by opening the windows of the 
 room just left are potent aids to long life and usefulness. 
 Moreover, fresh air is not alone sufficient unless we learn how 
 to properly inflate the lungs, for which purpose we must 
 breathe deeply in whatever pure atmosphere we are placed. 
 
 Up and down the windpipe a current and return current 
 of air need to pass fifteen to eighteen times a minute, 
 and oftener if we are children, or if for any reason respira- 
 tion is imperfectly done. " As easy as breathing " is a fre- 
 quent simile, but a sufferer from asthma or pneumonia tells 
 a very different story. With them existence requires a ter- 
 rible struggle with asphyxia — the doctor's term for a lack 
 of air and its resulting imperfect aeration of the blood, pre- 
 viously described in this chapter. This aeration requires, 
 in addition to the nose and ^windpipe, the aid, of the lungs, 
 which are continuous with the windpipe, and are inclosed 
 each in a tough, closed sac, known as the pleura (plural 
 
156 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 plurne). The two pleurre, as may be seen from the annexed 
 cut, do not meet except at one point in front. This leaves 
 an interspace between them, called the mediastinum, and in 
 this mediastinum are held all of the viscera of the thorax ex- 
 
 cept the lungs. In the cavity of the pleura? we find the 
 lungs, which extend from one to one and a half inches above 
 the collar bones to the diaphragm, or from the root of the 
 neck to the sixth and seventh ribs. The broad concave bases 
 of the lungs rest upon the convex surface of the diaphragm, 
 the thin lower edges of the lungs fitting accurately into the 
 wedge-like space between the ribs and the diaphragm. The 
 lungs are of unequal size, somewhat conical in shape, and lie 
 in the right and left sides of the thorax respectively, the base 
 of the right lung being considerably hollowed out by the 
 bulging upward of the liver, which projects upward as far as 
 the fifth rib ; the base of the left lung is also concave, though 
 to a less degree, by the upward projection of the stomach, 
 spleen, and left lobe of the liver. The right lung is some- 
 what larger and broader, owing to the location of the heart. 
 The right lung weighs about two ounces more than the left 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation. 157 
 
 lung, and is nearly two inches shorter than the left, owing to 
 the projection upward of the liver upon that side. The right 
 lung has three lobes, the left two, and both lungs hang sus- 
 pended in the thoracic cavity by what is known as the root 
 of the lungs. This root is a collection of blood-vessels and 
 the trachea, sending a branch to each lung composed of a 
 bronchial tube, pulmonary artery, bronchial arteries and 
 veins, and the pulmonary nerves, lymphatics, and glands in- 
 closed in a reflection of the pleura. The weight of the lungs 
 is about forty ounces, and their color at birth is pinkish, 
 but they grow darker with age, so that the lungs of an 
 adult are slate-colored, or even darker. Lung tissue is so 
 light and spongy that when it is inflated it floats on water, 
 and crackles when handled, owing to the air in the inter- 
 stices of its lobules. Each of these lobules contains one 
 of the branches of the bronchial tubes with its terminal air- 
 cells, vessels, and fibrous tissue holding them together. 
 These air-cells are blind pouches in which the subdivisions 
 of the bronchi terminate, and it will be remembered that the 
 bronchi are branches or prolongations of the windpipe, which, 
 under the name of the main bronchus, enters the lungs and di- 
 vides and subdivides into smaller bronchi, right and left, un- 
 til, as has been said, each of these bronchioles terminates in 
 an air-cell, or alveolus, as it is sometimes called. 
 
 The form of these air-cells is well shown on the following 
 page, which gives a cross-section of one of the ultimate bron- 
 chioles and its terminal vesicles. Each of these is held in a 
 network of capillaries, which inclose each alveolus of the 
 lungs in a sort of basketwork of blood-vessels. Each air-cell 
 measures about one seventy-fifth of an inch in diameter, but 
 as there are estimated to be eighteen million of these air-cells 
 their combined surface amounts to more than two hundred 
 square yards, or more than fifty times the extent of the 
 surface of the body. Through this thin film of tissue, ex- 
 posed to the air on both sides, the entire amount of blood in 
 the body flows three times in a minute, requiring for its 
 aeration twelve thousand quarts of air daily, which must be 
 
158 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 breathed in and out daily to keep the body properly venti- 
 lated. This is accomplished by inspiration and expiration, as 
 
 it is called; for breathing, simple as it 
 seems, is a complex act composed of 
 breathing in, breathing out, and rest- 
 ing; for the lungs, like the heart, 
 must have an interval for rest. Each 
 inspiration ought to draw into the 
 lungs thirty cubic inches of fresh air, 
 and each expiration ought to send out 
 about the same amount, although not 
 the identical air just breathed in; for 
 we never force out all of the air con- 
 tained in the lungs. The average 
 
 ait ceil (W, alveoli (c), and capacity of the lungs may be set at 
 bronchiole (a). two hundred and thirty cubic inches 
 
 of air ; thirty may be driven out by an ordinary expiration, 
 so that at the close of expiration there should be two 
 hundred cubic inches in the lungs. The thirty cubic 
 inches that flows to and fro is known as tidal air; the two 
 hundred cubic inches is divided into what is known as resid- 
 ual air (one hundred to seventy-five cubic inches), which can- 
 not be driven out by any force on our part, and about an 
 equal amount that is known as supplemental air, or that 
 which ordinarily remains in the lungs, although it can be 
 driven out by forced expiration. The two hundred cubic inches 
 of residual and supplementary air are those which are left in 
 the lungs after expiration. Add to this the thirty cubic 
 inches of tidal air drawn in by inspiration, and we find two 
 hundred and thirty inches within us at the close of an ordinary 
 inspiration. 
 
 Now two hundred and thirty cubic inches of air uncom- 
 fortably distend the lungs, so we ease them by expiring, or 
 squeezing out, about thirty cubic inches of impure air, for only 
 one seventh of all the air that is in the lungs is changed at 
 each breath. The remaining two hundred inches aerate 
 the blood, while the thirty cubic inches of tidal air hur- 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation. 159 
 
 rying up and down the throat, may be considered the fresh 
 recruits and returning on sick leave being carried away to be 
 refreshed, then hurrying back to relieve the two hundred 
 cubic inches of air which stand between us and death ; for as- 
 phyxia results if fresh air is not speedily brought to their re- 
 lief. In addition to the two hundred and thirty cubic inches 
 of air — tidal, residual, and supplemental — in times of emerg- 
 ency seventy-five to one hundred cubic inches more may be 
 forced in temporarily. This is known as complemental air, 
 and is invaluable to the gasping asthmatic or the sufferer in 
 the last stages of chronic heart trouble. 
 
 The importance of early increasing the amount of the sup- 
 plemental air that can be taken into the lungs can hardly be 
 overestimated. "Writing and studying at a desk or table so 
 inevitably tend to round the shoulders and hollow the chest 
 that some method of counteracting this should be systemat- 
 ically adopted. Indian clubs, an inhaling tube, dumb-bells, 
 and mountain climbing, when possible, will do wonders in 
 this direction. Singing, under a competent teacher, also does 
 much to expand the chest, and if half the attention were given 
 to the development and care of the lungs which is given to 
 the hair, consumption might be nearly eradicated, instead of 
 causing nearly a fifth of all the deaths of adults in this 
 country. A sunless, unventilated house will certainly germi- 
 nate the seeds of the disease whenever they are latent, or, if 
 the bacterial theories of tuberculosis are correct, prepare a 
 suitable ground in which the bacillus tuberculosis (see Chap- 
 ter VIII) will increase and multiply, until the consumptive 
 is worn out in a vain effort to expel them by coughing. And 
 what is a cough ? It is nature's way of clearing out the 
 windpipe ; really only a spasmodic expiration. For instance, 
 instead of the normal inspiration and expiration, when 
 \\c cough we first draw in a deep inspiration — these are the 
 few seconds of blissful uncertainty of whether you are going 
 to or not which usually precede a cough or a sneeze — but 
 the glottis closes while something tickles a nerve, say in the 
 larynx, which grows rebellious, and instead of giving us time 
 
160 Physiology and Hygiexe. 
 
 for a well regulated expiration, with a t spasm it forces the 
 air back through the glottis with a rush that carries the offend- 
 ing crumb or mucus before it ; if not, the process is repeated 
 as long as necessary. Sneezing is essentially the same, except 
 that in sneezing the trouble is in the nose ; so instead of the 
 air being forced out from the mouth, the soft palate and the 
 back of the tongue come together and force the air out with a 
 " chee-chee " through half -closed teeth and nose. 
 
 Sighing is a prolonged inspiration, and, when not due to 
 first love, like yawning is a proof of bad air or an exhausted 
 nervous system. Yawning differs from sighing in that its 
 prolonged inspiration is followed by a prolonged expiration, 
 both of which are largely involuntary. Snoring is a flapping 
 to and fro of the soft palate during sleep. With some the 
 sound occurs only during inspiration, with others during 
 both inspiration and expiration, and takes place during very 
 profound sleep, or in those whose nervous control over the 
 parts has been lessened. Laughing and sobbing are physi- 
 ologically the same, for they are both spasmodic inspiration 
 and expiration, and hence the ease with which the practiced 
 orator will carry his auditors from one to the other. Hic- 
 cough is also a spasmodic expiration due to a spasm of the 
 diaphragm, or the great fan-shaped muscle which divides the 
 trunk of the body into the thoracic and abdominal cavities. 
 Its front edge is attached to the breast-bone, and its sides 
 slope downward and are fastened to the lower six ribs. The 
 diaphragm, therefore, does not form a horizontal partition, but 
 arches upward in shape not unlike a policeman's helmet; but un- 
 like that in that it is not stiff, but exceedingly flexible, changing 
 its position with every inspiration and expiration. It is par 
 excellence the muscle of respiration, assisting it like the flexible 
 side of a pair of bellows. (See cut, page 40). Gaseous disten- 
 sion of the stomach may press upon the diaphragm so as to 
 be mistaken for heart disease. Fasting relieves this 
 trouble in short order, while it will aggravate real cases 
 of heart trouble, for which it is often mistaken. The dia- 
 phragm may be even ruptured by distension, as happened in the 
 
Sewerage and Ventilation". 
 
 161 
 
 following unique case, reported some years ago by Dr. Bren- 
 ner, of a man who actually split his diaphragm in two, and 
 
 Cut showing diaphragm from its lower side, and openings through which pass the 
 vena cava U3), esophagus (12), and aorta (11). 
 
 died from eating four plates of potato soup, "numerous" 
 cups of tea and milk, followed by a large dose of bicarbonate 
 of soda to aid digestion. His stomach swelled enormously, 
 and tore the diaphragm on the right side, causing immediate 
 death. 
 
 But if the diaphragm is at times a source of danger, it is, 
 on the other hand, invaluable for breathing and laughter. 
 The real value of the latter to the body is that, as says 
 another, "probably there is not a remote corner or little 
 inlet of the minute blood-vessels of the body that does not 
 feel some wavelet from the great convulsion produced by 
 hearty laughter shaking the central man. The blood moves 
 more, it conveys a different impression to all the organs of 
 the body, as it visits them on that particular mystic journey, 
 when the man is laughing, from what it does at other times. 
 And thus it is that a good laugh lengthens a man's life by 
 conveying a distinct and additional stimulus to the vital 
 
162 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 forces. The time may come when physicians, attending 
 more closely than they do now to the innumerable subtle 
 influences which the soul exerts upon its tenement of clay, 
 shall prescribe to a torpid patient ' so many peals of laughter, 
 to be undergone at such and such a time,' just as they do 
 that far more objectionable prescription — a pill, or an electric 
 or galvanic shock ; and shall study the best and most 
 effective method of producing the required effect in each 
 patient." 
 
 Diagram of Heart and Circulation (Plate II). 
 
 a. a. Vena cava, inferior and superior. 
 
 r. a. Right auricle with orifices of the venae cavae emptying into it. 
 
 t v. Tricuspid valve, closing orifice between right auricle and ventricle 
 of heart. 
 
 r. v. Right ventricle of heart. 
 
 p. a. o. Orifice of pulmonary artery. 
 
 p. a. Right and left pulmonary arteries. 
 
 p. v. Pulmonary veins, arising from the lungs and emptying by four 
 orifices into the left auricle. 
 
 I. a. Left auricle. 
 
 m. v. Mitral valve, closing orifice between left auricle and left ventricle. 
 
 I. v. Left ventricle. 
 
 a. o. Aortic orifice. 
 
 a. o. a. Arch of the aorta. 
 
 a. a. Ascending aorta. 
 
 a. d. Descending aorta, at last communicating by capillaries with the in- 
 ferior vena cava, though this communication is not shown in the plate, as in 
 the case of the ascending aorta. 
 
 N. B. The course of the blood is shown by the arrows in the diagram, it3 
 color indicating whether it is arterial or venous. 
 
The Daughters of Music. 163 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE DAUGHTERS OF MUSIC, AND THEY THAT LOOK OUT AT 
 
 THE WIXDOWS. 
 
 The diaphragm, in addition to its duties described in the 
 preceding chapter, greatly assists speech, the most precious 
 of all of man's accomplishments. The means by which this is 
 done was poetically described in Punch many years ago as 
 
 follows : 
 
 " The pharynx now goes up, 
 The larynx, with a slam, 
 Ejects a note from out the throat, 
 Pushed by the diaphragm" — 
 
 a jingle that may better serve to fix the order of events in 
 speech than a more technical description of speaking, or 
 singing ; which differs one from the other mainly in the aid 
 furnished by the lips and the tongue in speaking. 
 
 Lips were made for other purposes than merely to be kissed; 
 and in fact they are kissed too often for peace and safety, 
 especially in the case of little children, who apparently have 
 no rights in this matter that adults feel bound to respect. A 
 kiss in Iceland, even if the lady consents, is punished with a 
 fine sufficient to furnish a whole ship's crew with pilot 
 jackets, and a similar or heavier penalty ought to be laid 
 upon the promiscuous kissing of babies, and ladies among 
 themselves. It is a foolish and nonsensical practice, and 
 worse than that, dangerous, for diphtheria and worse diseases 
 are thus carried about a community to the perplexity of the 
 doctor and the dismay of his patient. Diphtheria is often, 
 if not usually, communicated in this way, from what is sup- 
 pled to be a simple sore throat. As competent authorities 
 as Drs. Pepper and Jacobi believe that there are more cases 
 
164 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 of mild diphtheria out of bed than in, and that the severer 
 forms of the disease may be produced from these mild 
 cases. The possibility of this ought to put an end to the 
 indiscriminate kissing of babies, for, as it was recently well 
 put in the Scientific American, " The children will not 
 suffer if they go unkissed ; and their friends ought for 
 their sake to forego the luxury. A single* kiss has been 
 known to infect a family ; and the most careful may be 
 in a condition to communicate the disease without know- 
 ing it. Beware, then, of playing Judas to the little 
 ones." 
 
 But osculation is not the only use to which lips can be put. 
 Their sense of touch is so delicate that the blind have been 
 able to read by moving their lips to and fro over an embossed 
 page. The chief use, however, of the lips aside from their as- 
 sistance in eating is the part that they play in speech. Cer- 
 tain of the letters are known as labials, for the reason that 
 they are formed by the lips, and many others cannot be 
 formed without their aid. For instance, the same expira- 
 tion may be made to sound either e, a, or o, according to the 
 position of the lips. L, r, f, and v sounds are made by the 
 tongue and lips jointly, and whispering is the voice produced 
 by the vibration of the muscular walls of the lips, or, as Hux- 
 ley puts it, a whisper is in fact a very low whistle. The wild 
 beast of the mouth, which, according to St. James, is untamable 
 — " For every kind of beasts, and of birds, and of serpents, and 
 of things in the sea, is tamed, and hath been tamed of man- 
 kind: but the tongue can no man tame" — usually gets the 
 blame of speech; but the fact is that the tongue is really the 
 least important organ in speaking, and has nothing to do 
 with voice at all. The distinction between the two is that 
 voice is the sound produced by the vibration of elastic cords; 
 speech is this sound modified by the throat, tongue, and lips. 
 Voice is the music produced by the pipe-organ of the throat, 
 while speech is its notes modified by the sounding-board 
 of the pharynx and the various shapes the cavity of the 
 mouth can be made to assume; many and various in that 
 
The Daughters of Music. 165 
 
 amazing " ready, spontaneous, automatic, self-sustaining flow 
 of speech peculiar to our sisters, in which each develops her 
 proposition without the slightest regard to what the other is 
 saying." (O. W. Holmes.) 
 
 But, useful as is the tongue, it is not absolutely indispensa- 
 ble for talking. We shall see hereafter that the larynx plays 
 the major part in speech. Huxley gives a long account 
 of a man who had his tongue cut off clear back to the soft 
 palate and yet was able to talk fluently, and pronounce 
 all letters except t, d, m, s, and p, which were strangely 
 changed into other consonant sounds; thus, tin was fin; dog, 
 thog; cat, catf; big, pig; tack, fack or pack; dine, vine; mad, 
 madf; tool, pool; do, thew; goose, gooth, etc. 
 
 So that cutting out the tongue might no more cure a gos- 
 sip than the pilgrim fathers' remedy of the ducking-stool. 
 But extirpating her tongue would ruin her enjoyment of her 
 neighbor's preserves, for the sense of taste is located in the 
 mucous membrane of the tongue, especially in its back part. 
 Much of that which passes for taste is really smell, for it is 
 the odor of food which makes the mouth water. The tongue, 
 like the fingers, has papillae, or ridges, scattered over it vary- 
 ing in shape according to their location and duties. Three 
 forms of these are known, namely, filiform, fungiform, and 
 circumvallate. The filiform are long and pointed, and probably 
 do little more than roughen the tongue, and thus help it to 
 move the food hither and thither. In the calf these are almost 
 spines, as you have appreciated if you ever happened to get your 
 hand into its mouth when you were feeding " bossy " salt. 
 These are the papillae which when coated give your tongue its 
 furred look. (See Chapter I, page 18.) The fungiform (club- 
 shaped) papillae are found here and there over the front of the 
 tongue, while the fortified or circumvallate are arranged in 
 the shape of the letter V at the base of the tongue. These 
 latter are the chief organs of taste; but just how these little 
 knobs tell us that sugar is sweet and vinegar is sour is more 
 than at present is known, except that it must be done through 
 the filaments of the nerves which cluster over them. We 
 
166 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 are very apt to confound smell with taste, so that mothers do 
 a very sensible and physiological thing when they hold 
 Johnnie's nose to make him take the luscious castor oil. If 
 she could only keep her fingers there all day it would be all 
 right; but when they are removed, then comes that awful 
 corpse-like taste which must be known to be appreciated, and 
 yet doubtless the Esquimaux, who guzzle train oil, would 
 smack their lips over a bottle of " cold pressed." A Russian 
 peasant would turn up his nose at the American idol, " pie," 
 but feast like a king on raw whisky and tallow candles, and 
 even our refined French brethren go into ecstasies over a dish 
 of fried frogs or squirming snails. One man's meat is an- 
 other's poison. There are whole families who have a horror 
 of cheese. Some people cannot even take a homeopathic 
 globule of mutton. There are well authenticated cases on 
 record of gout always following fish, fearful sickness from 
 eating strawberries, and many similar cases in regard to shell- 
 fish. Strange as these may seem, we must leave them with 
 the thought that they are no stranger than many other pecu- 
 liarities that we inherit from our parents. 
 
 If it be true, as some most excellent people assert, that we 
 ought to pay no more attention to the food we are eating than 
 if we were shoveling coal into a furnace, too much time has 
 been spent on this matter of taste. So let us proceed past the 
 soft palate, which hangs as a curtain before the pharynx, or 
 the cavity at the top of the throat. The use of the soft palate 
 is to prevent water and food from passing into the nostrils, 
 which it closes as it is forced up in swallowing. Behind this 
 palate curtain we find a little triangular room called the pha- 
 rynx, from which we can either go up stairs by way of the sky- 
 lights opening into the nostrils, or down stairs via either the 
 windpipe or esophagus. The last-named route takes into 
 the kitchen and dining-room, already visited (see Chapter IV) ; 
 the former leads into the larynx, which different routes were 
 evidently unknown to the school-boy who wrote: " A throat is 
 convenient to have, especially for ministers and roosters. 
 The one eats corn and crows with it; the other preaches 
 
The Daughters of Music. 
 
 167 
 
 ■** 
 
 through hisn and ties it up." If the young author had, how- 
 ever, taken his stand before a looking-glass and pushed down 
 the root of his tongue as far as possible, at the same time ut- 
 tering the sound a-a, he could have seen why food and preach- 
 ing do not travel the same route. At the top of the wind- 
 pipe with a good light may be seen a yellowish-white leaf- 
 like body — the epiglottis — moving to and fro with every 
 inspiration and expiration and shutting down like a trap-door, 
 or bridge, over which the food passes when we swallow. The 
 larynx is essentially a triangular carti- ^A^\ 
 laginous box, flattened behind and at the 
 sides, while in front it forms a vertical 
 ridge — named Adam's apple, in memory 
 of Eve's gift, the core of which is fabled 
 to have stuck at this point. This larynx 
 box is hung on a V-shaped bone and 
 consists of nine cartilages, the largest of 
 which is named the shield, or thyroid, 
 cartilage, from its shape. On its lower 
 edge it is joined to another, the cricoid, 
 or seal ring, cartilage, whose seal being 
 placed behind leaves a gap in front filled trachea and larynx. 
 in only with membrane. By the aid of a e p- Epiglottis, Or. cricoid, 
 laryngoscopic mirror, properly held in the throat, we may 
 see, if we are curiously inclined, on the upper and back part 
 of the seal-ring cartilage fastened two curly cartilaginous 
 bits, known as the funnel (arytenoid) cartilages, to which are 
 fastened tiny muscles to pull these funnel cartilages to- 
 gether or apart. 
 
 Just below these cartilages are the vocal chords proper, 
 which correspond to the strings of a violin, of which the 
 human pharynx represents the body, or sounding-board, for 
 a violin more nearly resembles a human voice in its tones 
 than any other musical instrument. Musically speaking, the 
 human vocal apparatus is a combination of a reed-organ 
 and the violin, of which the trachea is the pipe, and the 
 pharynx and the nasal cavities the body of the violin, whose 
 
168 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 strings are in th^ larynx, which we have seen is placed 
 below the epiglottis in the windpipe. These violin strings 
 are known to the anatomist as vocal cords, but when we speak 
 of them as such please drive out of your mind any idea that 
 they look at all like violin strings or wrapping cords. On 
 the contrary, if you ever have the opportunity to look with a 
 small mirror (laryngoscope) properly held over the larynx, 
 you will find the windpipe just below the epiglottis nearly 
 closed by two, pale reddish projections, or swellings, on its 
 inner surface. These do not completely come together, but 
 leave a V-shaped opening between them. With an attempt 
 to say Ah-a you will find these edges become nearly parallel, 
 the chink narrower, and its thin edges vibrate from the cur- 
 rent of air set in motion below from the lungs outward. 
 The principle is that of the blade of grass held between our 
 thumbs which we blow upon to make squeak. Put two 
 blades of grass at a slight angle between your thumbs and 
 you have, except in color, a very fair working model of the 
 human vocal cords in repose. The size, shape, and relative 
 position of the blades of grass are about those of a human 
 glottis, or the apparatus by which we sing and talk. The 
 sound produced by this grassy musical instrument is caused 
 by the vibrations produced in the grass by the motion 
 of the air blown upon it. These vibrations start waves of 
 sound, and upon the frequency of these depends the pitch 
 of our musical instrument — if we may so call the grass be- 
 tween our thumbs. In exactly the same way the human 
 larynx is made to produce sounds by the passage of the air 
 from the lungs outward. When the chords are separated 
 so as to form a V-shaped chink the air passes quietly in and 
 out without giving rise to any sounds ; but when the chords 
 are drawn parallel and their free edges put upon the stretch, 
 the passage of the breath through this narrow opening causes 
 its edges to vibrate, just as it did with the blades of grass, or 
 as does the reed in a pipe-organ, and similarly produces audi- 
 ble sounds, or sound waves, upon which they depend; for all 
 sounds depend upon vibrations of varying rapidity. If they 
 
The Daughters of Music. 169 
 
 are irregular rind of uncertain intervals we call the result a 
 noise, but if these vibrations come with regularity we pro- 
 duce what is known as a musical note. This may be proven 
 by holding a card against a toothed-wheel slowly rotating. 
 If struck irregularly it makes only a noise, and so long as 
 the wheel turns slowly we can distinguish between these 
 separate noises, or in other words the vibration of the card 
 is so transient and irregular that it fails to produce the 
 regularity in vibration necessary to make a musical note. 
 Turn the wheel faster, and hold the card against the teeth, 
 and the whole character of the sound changes. It becomes 
 continuous and musical, and as the machine revolves faster 
 and faster, the pitch of the sound is heightened to a shriek, 
 and then becomes inaudible, or in other words the vibrations 
 may become so rapid as to fail to make an impression upon 
 the auditory nerves, which can hear sound vibrations only 
 between certain limits. The exact number of sound waves 
 necessary to produce any given note has been accurately 
 counted, and by a proper instrument giving these vibrations 
 any given note can be reproduced. Now the number of these 
 vibrations depends upon the length and tension of the string 
 vibrating, and all this is regulated in our throats by the 
 action of the tiny muscles guiding the vocal cords. The 
 quality of a voice — bass, tenor, etc. — depends uj)on the 
 relative shape of the larynx, and hence the different quality 
 of male and female voices, and the inability of the gentler sex 
 to sing bass. The range of a voice depends upon the differ- 
 ence of tension to which the vocal chords can be subjected, 
 and accuracy in singing depends upon our ability to adjust 
 this tension to any point desired. No amount of training can 
 give a man, or a woman, longer or shorter vocal cords, and 
 hence we cannot greatly vary the natural range of voice; 
 but education is all-essential to accuracy in singing. The 
 differences of adjustment in the vocal cords are so slight 
 and so delicate that those who cannot sing are lost in wonder, 
 love and praise in the presence of an artist such as Catilani, 
 whose voice is said to have been accurate to a register of 
 8 
 
170 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 three octaves, while their own voices can accomplish only 
 three notes, and cannot certainly be depended upon for 
 even those ; or, still worse, like the unfortunate boy, may get 
 the credit for Sunday wood-sawing when only holding a 
 private praise service in the barn. 
 
 Speech, as has already been said, depends upon the modi- 
 fication in the sounds produced by the vibrations of the vocal 
 cords by the cavities of the nose and mouth. This was 
 clearly demonstrated by Professor Rood, of New York, in his 
 popular lectures on the voice, in which he shows a serviceable 
 set of vocal cords made from a sheet of rubber. These by 
 blowing through them will howl most dismally ; then by 
 placing this sheet of rubber in different shaped pipes, through 
 which air is forced by a bellows, it can be made to utter very 
 distinct sounds, and even cry out Pa-pa in a way that would 
 call a loving father out of bed on the coldest winter night. 
 The French dolls that say Ma-ma when squeezed are made 
 on the same principle. Professor Kemplon, of Vienna, 
 has further practically applied the principle so that he has 
 invented a machine which speaks not only syllables, but 
 whole words and sentences. A Mr. Faber has done still bet- 
 ter, having invented a singing machine which runs up and 
 down the scale ; and perhaps the time will come when the 
 church will order a choir of these along with their organ, 
 and thus put an end to those everlasting squabbles which make 
 miserable the life of the music committee — unless Dr. Tourjee 
 brings in the millennium by congregational singing before 
 that time. All these artificial singing and talking ma- 
 chines are, however, cumbersome and intricate comj^ared 
 with ours, which is held in a space hardly larger than your 
 two thumbs. It is, to be sure, a single pipe-organ, but Von 
 Kamper has proven that with a single pipe only fourteen 
 stops are necessary for speech ; namely, those represent- 
 ing the vowels and 1, r, w, f, s, b, d, g, sch, which 
 by the aid of the tongue, lips, and lungs can give forth an 
 almost infinite variety of sounds. According to Scripture, 
 our voices ought to be as " one who playeth well on an in- 
 
The Daughters of Music. 171 
 
 strument," or " as a very lovely song of one that hath a 
 pleasant voice," for there is no music so sweet as a properly 
 modulated, human voice. Unfortunately, in this country the 
 vocal chords seem to be generally out of tune, for the harsh, 
 shrill, nasal American voice is the butt of the civilized stasre. 
 There is an intenseness and a " concert pitch " to the voice 
 of the average American young lady that goes through the 
 ears of an educated foreigner like a knife, for there is a soft- 
 ness and gentle modulation to the feminine voice abroad that 
 is exceedingly enjoyable. The shrillness of the average 
 American voice is due in part to habit, for its high pitch can 
 be lowered by carefulness, but its original cause may be 
 found in the dryness of our climate as compared with Europe. 
 We have, it is true, as large a rainfall, but the wind springs 
 up as soon as the rain is over, and dries out the moisture from 
 the atmosphere, so that cabinet work made on the other side 
 of the water soon drops to pieces in America. This quality 
 in the atmosphere tends to beget a restlessness which never 
 fails to attract the attention of a foreigner. The same cause 
 produces nasal catarrh, so frequent in this country, and sooner 
 or later affects the quality of the voice also. Possibly the 
 presence of ozone in our atmosphere has also something to 
 do with the timbre of the American voice, for experiments 
 recently carried on in Paris show that the inhalation of vari- 
 ous volatile substances will change the quality of the human 
 voice. Dr. Sandras found that he could in this way produce 
 the characteristic voice of the drunkard and remove it tem- 
 porarily at will, as well as alter the pitch of the voice and 
 its range also. " Tar- water, alcohol, ether, and the oils 
 employed for this purpose are not new ; it is only their 
 application which may be said to be novel. The most 
 curious part of the experiments is the accuracy with which 
 certain well-defined effects are said to be obtained. Thus, a 
 certain number of inhalations of one kind will diminish the 
 compass by so many notes, while another will confer an 
 additional eight <>r ten ; some even limit the range to five or 
 six notes." 
 
172 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 It is claimed by some that the quality of the Italian voice 
 is due to the presence of ammonia in the air of Italy, and an 
 enterprising Yankee has actually invented and patented 
 an ammoniaphone, which it is hoped will transform the 
 native harshness of the American voice to the sweetness 
 of a Patti's. Speed the day ! but, as his progress as yet seems 
 discouragingly slow, the best thing that can be done in the 
 interval is to use the voice naturally and give it a fair op- 
 portunity to work untrammeled. Tight collars have more 
 to do with clergymen's sore throats than continuous speak- 
 ing, provided the voice be used in natural speaking, not 
 preaching, with its artificial intonations. During public 
 speaking the neck expands an inch or more, from the surplus 
 of blood required for the brain and vocal cords. At such 
 a time an ordinary collar becomes too tight, and congests 
 the throat and neck and head so that the unconventional 
 circuit rider of the earlier day would, as he spoke, divest 
 himself of cravat and collar and speak at his best with bared 
 neck. 
 
 " Women," says H. L. Hastings, " go with their necks 
 bare and men keep theirs swathed and bandaged, and ten 
 women have sweet voices where one man has one. A man's 
 voice should be as pure as a woman's. Why is it not ? He 
 is shaved and choked. God has provided a covering for 
 man's throat — light and soft, it clothes the neck and pre- 
 serves the health ; but a man gets a sharp iron, scrapes his 
 neck, ties a rag around it, takes cold, has sore throat, bron- 
 chitis, and consumption, and dies." Or if it does not come 
 to that he finds himself afflicted with a chronic sore throat 
 and a perpetual sniffing and hawking, which makes him an 
 easy prey to all of the brethren " late in the ministry " who 
 have a sure cure for catarrh. Loose collars, frequent bathing 
 of the neck with cold water, and the exercise of care to 
 avoid getting chilled will do more for the radical cure of 
 catarrh than all the inhalers ever advertised, unless the 
 congestion of the nose has proceeded to chronic disease of 
 the turbinated bones. 
 
The Daughters of Music. 173 
 
 These are two scroll-shaped bones, situated at the back of 
 the nose, very light and spongy, because filled with cavities 
 which communicate with the interior of the nose, and are 
 lined with the same mucous membrane (ciliated). Above 
 and to the front of these turbinated bones, about on the level 
 with the upper part of the nose, is a delicate perforated plate 
 of bone (cribriform) through which the olfactory nerve 
 sends innumerable filaments to the mucous membrane of 
 this and the surrounding parts of the nose. By these we are 
 enabled to smell, a faculty which requires that the air con- 
 taining the odorous particles must find its way up the nose 
 to the cribriform plate, and there make its impression upon 
 the terminal fibers of the olfactory nerve. These odors may 
 pass directly up from the mouth or through the nostrils, 
 where the process is assisted by sniffing, or drawing by a 
 sudden inspiration, these odoriferous particles further up 
 into the nose. If, however, the turbinated bones are swollen, 
 as takes place in recent colds or chronic catarrh, the passage 
 upward of the fragrant air is impeded and the sense of smell 
 is either partially or entirely lost. 
 
 The organs of smell are not as fully developed in man as 
 in some of the lower animals, notably insects and certain 
 fishes ; the shark, for instance, having no less than twelve 
 square feet of olfactory organs. The faculty of scent may 
 be cultivated like all other faculties, as is proven by blood- 
 hounds and breeds of dogs which have been especially trained 
 in this direction until it becomes an hereditary faculty. Those 
 who deal in teas, coffees, perfumes, wine, and butter often 
 cultivate their powers to a wonderful degree in their especial 
 lines, but with the majority of people it is the least culti- 
 vated of the senses, although O. W. Holmes thinks it the 
 one which most powerfully appeals to memory. Professor 
 Valentine has recently tested the delicacy of the sense of 
 smell in regard to various odorous substances, and found 
 " that a current of air containing 1-30,000 milligram of 
 bromine, or 1-500,000 milligram of sulphureted hydrogen, 
 or 1-2,000,000 milligram of oil of roses can be perceived by 
 
174: Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 the sense of smell. He also determined that the amount of 
 odoriferous air which must pass over the olfactory membrane 
 in order to excite the sense of smell was from 50 to 100 
 cubic centimeters (one tenth to one fifth of a pint). He cal- 
 culated, therefore, that the actual amount of bromine neces- 
 sary to excite a sense of smell was 1-600 milligram ; of 
 sulphureted hydrogen, 1-5,000 milligram ; of oil of roses, 
 1-20,000 milligram (about 1-120,000 of a grain). Two recent 
 experimenters, E. Fischer and F. Pentzoldt, of'Erlangen, have 
 found two other substances which far exceed the foregoing 
 in their capacity for affecting the olfactory nerves. These 
 were mercaptan (sulphureted alcohol) and chlorphenol. They 
 found that in air containing 1-230,000,000 milligram to the 
 cubic centimeter of chlorphenol, and 1-23,000,000,000 mil- 
 ligram of mercaptan, these substances can be appreciated, 
 and it was estimated that only 1-4,600,000 milligram of 
 chlorphenol and 1-460,000,000 milligram of mercaptan is 
 necessary to excite a sensation of smell. There exists, there- 
 fore, a substance which in so small a subdivision as 1-2,760,- 
 000,000 grain, or not far from one three-billionth of a grain, is 
 capable of calling out a nerve impulse. This subdivision of 
 matter is quite beyond comprehension, yet the nose alone 
 can appreciate it. The smallest subdivision appreciable by 
 the eye through the spectroscope is 1-1,400,000 milligram of 
 sodium, which is a 250 times coarser division of matter than 
 the minimum of odor-exciting merca]3tan.'" 
 
 Contrary to general belief, the sense of smell is more acute 
 in man than in woman, for the experiments of Nicolls and 
 Bailey have proved this beyond a reasonable doubt. Their 
 experiments were made by means of a series of solutions of 
 oil of cloves, extract of garlic, and prussic acid, which were 
 successively diluted and then submitted to a number of per- 
 sons of both sexes in order to classify properly their sense of 
 smelling. The result showed conclusively that the sense of 
 smell was generally much more delicate in males than in 
 females, but that the degree of acuteness had a wide indi- 
 vidual variation; thus some were able to detect one part of 
 
The Daughters of Music. 175 
 
 prussic acid to two million parts of water, a dilution too weak 
 to be detected by any chemical test, while others of both 
 sexes were unable to detect prussic acid in solutions of 
 dangerous strength. 
 
 While it is possible for disease to be introduced into the 
 system through the nasal organs, as a rule they are our best 
 protection against toxic vapors. Doubtless the sense of smell 
 becomes weary by continued exposure to unpleasant odors, 
 but fortunately most of these are disagreeable rather than 
 dangerous. With rare exception those employed at work in 
 the rank odors of a fertilizing factory or a fish-rendering es- 
 tablishment enjoy comparatively good health, provided respi- 
 ration is carried on through the nose. It may even be fairly 
 questioned whether the perfume of flowers is not as mis- 
 chievous as those from such factories. Says a recent writer 
 on this subject, " The odors of flowers in a closed chamber 
 of limited space, especially during the night, manifest them- 
 selves by serious disorders, such as headache, syncope, and 
 even by asphyxia, if their action is too prolonged. In nerv- 
 ous persons numbness may occur in all the members, con- 
 vulsions, and loss of voice; but in general only a state of som- 
 nolence, accompanied by feebleness and retardation of the 
 action of the heart. This state is often associated with well- 
 marked dimness of vision. Among the flowers that are most 
 deleterious may be mentioned the lily, hyacinth, narcissus, 
 crocus, rose, carnation, honeysuckle, jasmine, violet, elder, etc. 
 In addition to the danger caused by their smell should be 
 mentioned their action on the air. During the night flowers 
 actively produce carbonic acid, which is injurious to health. 
 Majendie cites a case of death caused by a large bouquet of 
 lilies which the sufferer, a previously healthy woman, allowed 
 to remain in her bed-room while she slept. Among the more 
 dangerous plants may be mentioned the walnut, the bay-tree, 
 and the hern]). The action of these is well known, the latter, 
 indeed, producing a kind of drunkenness. Certain drugs 
 may even produce death by the inhalation of their vapors 
 only ; noticeable among these are the so-called anaesthetic 
 
176 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 vapors, prussic and osmic acid. At a session of the French 
 
 Academy of Sciences, some years ago, a noted French chemist 
 
 presented to that body a small tin box containing, according 
 
 to his statement, enough osmic acid to kill every inhabitant 
 
 of the city of Paris provided the package was broken. The 
 
 sense of smell is sometimes so intensified that with certain 
 
 persons it produces the effects of intoxication, so that Pope's 
 
 lines. 
 
 " Die of a rose in aromatic pain 
 
 By swift effluvia darting through the brain," 
 
 was almost realized in the case of Grebry, the composer, and 
 Anne of Austria, upon whom the odor of roses produced 
 poisonous effects. There is also on record a well-authenti- 
 cated case of a man falling down in strong convulsions at 
 the smell of mutton, and the writer is personally acquainted 
 with cases where intense nausea is produced whenever a cat 
 is admitted into the room, and another where similar effects 
 are produced by the odor of caraway seeds. Handling 
 ipecac with many druggists produces attacks closely resem- 
 bling hay fever, which by the way is now generally believed 
 to be excited by the microscopic pollen of certain weeds 
 floating in the air. Per contra, Hahnemann, during the last 
 years of his life, taught that all diseases could be cured by 
 olfaction, or the smelling of certain medicated sugar glob- 
 ules. Unfortunately, his hopes have not been realized, and 
 the nose serves us only as an organ for the enjoyment of 
 sweet odors and the utilization of pocket-handkerchiefs. 
 
 The reason why it was necessary, as says the old song, for 
 Nancy "to wipe her apron with the corner of her eye" when 
 the sad news of her true lover's death came is that just there, 
 on the outer side of the eye, the tear-factory, or the lachry- 
 mal gland, is situated. On the outer and upper margin of 
 the eye we find this gland, which is about the size of an 
 almond, kept constantly at work pouring out its fluid and 
 spreading it by means of seven minute canals over the surface 
 of the eye. Thus the eye is kept bathed and freed from dust, 
 and so important is this work done by the lachrymal gland 
 
The Daughters of Music. 177 
 
 that if, for any reason, it is unable to perform its duty the 
 eye grows opaque and loses its sight ; so that all are not 
 "tears, idle tears," though there must have been many 
 such in Rome, if the Roman ladies ever filled the " tear 
 jugs" which are found there in almost every tomb. Ours 
 are disposed of in a much less romantic way. If there are 
 too many for the eye to hold comfortably they trickle over 
 the lids down the cheeks ; but ordinarily they find their way 
 out by means of a couple of little passages of their own into 
 the nose. If you will turn down the lid you will find near 
 its inner corner a little black spot on its inner margin. Xow, 
 if you had a very fine silver probe you would find that it 
 would enter a little canal, and, by some dexterous turnings, 
 you could at last bring out this probe near the floor of the 
 nostrils, and this is the course that the tears usually take; 
 hence the sudden desire for a pocket-handkerchief when our 
 feelings begin to melt. 
 
 Retracing our steps, let us return to what the poets call 
 " the curtained windows of the ivory palace of the soul." This 
 is poetical. Facts are better expressed by saying that the 
 eye is an optical instrument admirably adapted for the use 
 of "those that look out at the windows." We find it amply 
 protected from injury by the fluids already spoken of, the 
 eyelids, and the eyebrows. The latter act as a screen, or 
 as the gutters on a roof, to turn aside fluid or dust which other- 
 wise might find its way into the eye. The eyebrows further- 
 more contain several small muscles, which act both voluntarily 
 and involuntarily to protect the eyes from harm by narrowing 
 the opening over them. This is more perfectly accomplished 
 by means of the eyelids, which are two movable shutters 
 made to close at will over the eye. The rapid involuntary 
 motion of these constitutes winking, which is designed by 
 the aid of the eyelashes to beat back insects or dust which 
 would otherwise find their way into the eye proper. This, 
 known as the eyeball, is a round body a little more than an 
 inch in diameter, made up of several layers or coatings, and 
 securely lodged in its own bony chamber or orbit, In the 
 
178 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 back part of the orbit we find an opening through which 
 the optic nerve passes clown from the brain and perforates 
 the back part of the eye a little to the inner side, where it 
 spreads out at the back of the eyeball through a thin mem- 
 brane called the retina. This is at no point more than 
 one eightieth of an inch in thickness, and represents the 
 sensitive plate used in a photographers shop. The retina is 
 sometimes called the third coat, or tunic, of the eye, resting 
 behind on the choroid, or second coat, hereafter to be de- 
 scribed, and in front lying in immediate contact with a jelly- 
 like fluid known as the vitreous humor. The retina itself, 
 then, is an exceedingly delicate membrane, which, under the 
 microscope, can be divided into several distinct layers. At 
 its back, that is, nearest to the orbit, are nerve fibers and cor- 
 puscles. (See Chapter VIII). Above this we find what has 
 been called the layer of rods and cones, minute, rod-like, and 
 conical bodies standing perpendicularly to the plane of the re- 
 tina. These rods and cones occupy the anterior quarter of the 
 retina, standing above the connective tissue which binds it to 
 the choroid, and placing the nerve fibers and vessels to the 
 front. It should be understood, therefore, that the rods and 
 cones are not really modifications of the nerve tissue, but of 
 the membrane through which this is interspersed. This is 
 best shown at what is known as the yellow spot (macula 
 lutea, a circular depression of a yellowish color about the 
 middle of the retina), near wdiich is the point of entrance 
 for the optic nerve, whence it spreads its fibers into the retina 
 proper. At this point of entrance the nerve fibers predomi- 
 nate, and the rods and cones are absent, while at the yellow 
 spot the cones are abundant and close-set, while the rods are 
 scanty, and found only toward its margin. The exact use 
 to which these rods and cones are applied is not definitely 
 known further than that it is their function to transform the 
 waves of light into the impression which we know as sight. 
 This sensation takes place in the brain, for a hard blow on 
 the back of the head will make us see stars, although it be 
 broad daylight. 
 
The Daughters of Music. 179 
 
 Similarly, irritation or galvanization of the optic nerve will 
 produce the sensation of light even though the eye and the 
 retina are destroyed. Light, says Huxley, falling on 
 the optic nerve does not excite it; " the fibers of the optic 
 nerve in themselves are as blind as any other part of the 
 body." But just as the delicate filaments of the ear and the 
 fibers of Corti are contrivances for converting the vibration 
 of the fluids of the ear, so the vibration of the fluids of the 
 eye may be similarly converted into the sensation of light 
 and color. " There is," says Professor Barret, " a striking 
 analogy between music and color; the rate of vibration in 
 sound gave rise to the gamut, and in colors the rate of vibra- 
 tion in like manner gave rise to the notes forming the spec- 
 trum. The colors of the spectrum showed a sequence analo- 
 gous to the sequence of pitch in the gamut. Newton thought 
 that there might " be a correspondence between the length of 
 the spectrum colors and the vibrations of musical sounds, but 
 the true relationship was between the vibrating pitch of color 
 and the vibrating pitch of sound. The extreme limits of the 
 spectrum embraced an octave in music. Calling red 100, the 
 proportionate vibration of orange was 89, that of yellow 81, 
 that of green 75, that of blue 69, that of indigo 64, that of 
 violet 60, that of ultra-violet 53, and an obscure or extreme 
 violet 50. The vibration of C in music corresponded to that 
 of red in color, and taking C as 100, the vibration of D was 
 89, that of E 80, that of F 74, that of G 67, that of A 60, 
 that of B 53, and that of C 50. The vibration of unison, 
 rendered visible, produced on a screen the figure of a circle, 
 that of an octave formed a figure resembling 8, and combina- 
 tions of figure formed by the visible reflection of intervals of 
 a fourth, a sixth, etc., were proportionately complicated." 
 
 The sensibility of the different portions of the retina to color 
 and light varies very greatly. At the entrance of the optic 
 nerve the retina is absolutely blind, but elsewhere light and 
 color impressions have a duration of their own. About an 
 eighth of a second is required for the first of these, so that 
 impressions of light which follow each other more rapidly 
 
180 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 than an eighth of a second are practically continuous. A 
 striking illustration of this may sometimes be seen in riding 
 rapidly past a board fence in which there are numerous per- 
 pendicular cracks. Through each of these the eye gets but a 
 passing glimpse, but these succeed each other so rapidly that 
 to all appearance the fence is abolished, and we can see almost 
 as plainly what is beyond it as if no fence were there. The 
 excitability of the retina is, however, soon exhausted, for 
 continued gazing at a bright light quickly exhausts the sus- 
 ceptibility of that part of the retina upon which its rays have 
 fallen. Turning now from the bright light and looking to- 
 ward a light surface you find a dark spot corresponding to 
 the bright one just looked upon. If the bright light be of 
 one color the retina becomes exhausted for that tint only, but 
 may recognize other colors. Each color has what is known 
 as its complementary color, and these are those which will be 
 seen in the image produced by this temporary blindness of 
 the retina; for instance, if a red cross be made upon a sheet 
 of white paper and steadily gazed upon for a while with one 
 eye, and then this turned to look upon a page of perfectly 
 white paper there will be apparently seen upon this a green 
 cross of exactly the same size and shape as the red one just 
 looked upon, although somewhat less distinct in outline. 
 
 Boll, a recent observer, thinks that the ability of the retina 
 to recognize hues is due to a peculiar red color, which is con- 
 stantly being destroyed by the influence of light and is as con- 
 stantly being regenerated by the ordinary processes of nutri- 
 tion. The "vision red" or " erythopsin," as its discoverer 
 names it, attains its maximum after a night's rest and sleep, 
 or when an animal has been kept for some hours in darkness; 
 it is soluble in solutions of the biliary acids and in glycerine, 
 and probably plays a part in the production of the red reflec- 
 tion from the fundus of the eye seen by the opthalmoscope. 
 Possibly the loss of erythopsin constitutes the color-blindness 
 whose more common form is that caused by the absence of 
 perception of one of the three fundamental colors. These 
 are mentioned in the order of their comparative frequency; 
 
The Daughters of Music. 181 
 
 namely, where the elementary sensation corresponding to red 
 is wanting; next, the absence or imperfect perception of 
 green; and third, of blue or violet. It will be noticed as a 
 remarkable fact that the first two colors are those now used 
 to make up the entire code of railway signals, and that this 
 defect for red occurs more frequently than for any other 
 color. This is an item of the greatest importance in railway 
 and vessel management, since red is almost always used for 
 the danger signal. To add still further to the deceptive and 
 dangerous character of these defects, there are quite a number 
 of persons who are unable to distinguish between the pri- 
 mary colors at night, while their perception or sensation of 
 color by daylight is apparently perfect. Again, there is 
 another defect, which is an inability to distinguish between 
 or to recognize the primary colors at certain distances, vary- 
 ing more or less in individuals. This was found to be the 
 most difficult of all defects to detect by the ordinary tests for 
 color-blindness. 
 
 On account of the importance of color blindness, in relation 
 to the danger signals on railroads and steamboats, it is usual to 
 test all those wishing for employment by means of the match- 
 ing various colored worsteds. Samples of various colors 
 are given to the one on trial, which he endeavors to match. 
 Examinations show, among men at least, one out of every 
 fifty defective, and many to a degree that unfits them for 
 any service requiring accuracy in the percerjtion of colors. 
 The defect is often congenital, but is also known to be 
 caused by alcohol or tobacco, and by some forms of mental 
 disease. 
 
 Besides color-blindness the eye is subject to various de- 
 fects inherited and acquired, such as squint, myopia, presby- 
 opia. Squint or cross eyes are where their axes do not corre- 
 spond, so that vision is practiced with one eye instead of two. 
 Squinting is often a bad habit, which, as soon as observed, 
 should be obviated by using the eyes one at a time, and look- 
 ing with each in a direction opposite to that toward which 
 it inclines, or using the affected eye a little from time to time 
 
182 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 with the finger extended over the nose as an additional 
 septum to increase its height. 
 
 Myopia, or near-sightedness, is most frequently found in 
 students and school-children, and is caused by poor light, 
 poor printing, either in regard to the size of the type or color 
 of the paper; improper ventilation; faulty positions while 
 studying; whatever tends to produce any congestion about 
 the head, and lowering the vitality from any cause what- 
 ever. 
 
 Dr. Andrews says on this subject: "In early life the tis- 
 sues are soft. Some eyes are believed to have a more yield- 
 ing or plastic tissue than others. The extensible, sclerotic 
 coat becomes stretched. The yielding occurs most at the 
 rear of the eye-ball, which thus becomes elongated. So the 
 retina is moved behind the best locality for focalizing. No 
 doubt this exists sometimes as an inheritance or an anatom- 
 ical defect. But far of tener it is a yielding caused by the 
 improper use of the eye. 
 
 " The act of accommodation of the eye is, by nature, one of 
 slight but of healthy tension. But if constantly overdrawn, 
 or if the tissue of the eye is flabby or not sufficiently resist- 
 ant, the form is changed so as to become a serious defect. 
 The child that uses the eye too early or too much in study, 
 or with wrong type or books, or when the general health is 
 not good, or too soon after recovery from sickness, or in 
 overheated or foul air, or in too great a glare, or with defi- 
 ciency of light, is too likely to give a training to the eye 
 which secures for it more or less imperfection of vision." 
 
 Some practical hints for the care of the eyes may be found 
 at the close of the present chapter, in which, if space 
 allowed, it would be interesting to attempt to solve the ques- 
 tion Avhether sight, or perception of the form of external ob- 
 jects, is possible in any other way than by the eyes. It would 
 open a long and difficult theme for discussion, but in the 
 midst of much willful deception on the part of clairvoy- 
 ants and mind-readers it seems clearly proven that som- 
 nambulists, or sleep-walkers, go wherever they please 
 
The Daughters of Music. 183 
 
 without hesitation, read and write, and give ample evidence 
 of a power of perception independent of the usual organs of 
 vision. Persons subject to attacks of catalepsy frequently 
 show the same peculiarity. M. Despine, late inspector of 
 the mineral waters of Aix, in Savoy, mentions the following 
 among many other cases : "Not only could our patient hear 
 by means of the palm of her hand, but we have seen her 
 read without the assistance of the eyes, merely with the tips 
 of the fingers, which she passed rapidly over the page that 
 she wished to read. At other times Ave have seen her select 
 from a parcel of more than thirty letters the one which she 
 was required to pick out ; also, write several letters, and 
 correct on reading them over again, always with her finger 
 ends, the mistakes she had made ; copy one letter, word for 
 word, reading it with her left elbow, while she wrote with 
 her right hand. During these proceedings a thick paste- 
 board completely intercepted any visual ray that might have 
 reached her eyes. The same phenomenon was manifested at 
 the soles of her feet, on the epigastrium, and other parts of 
 the body, where a sensation of pain was produced by the 
 mere touch." Persons who have become blind have also 
 been known to acquire the same power, for example : Har- 
 riet Martineau tells of an old lady who had been blind from 
 her birth, and yet saw in her sleep, and in her waking state 
 described, the color of the clothing of individuals correctly. 
 In these cases, no doubt, perception is, as usual, in the brain ; 
 but either all the nerves of the surface have the power of 
 conveying the impressions of light to that organ, or some 
 special parts of the body, as the ends of the fingers, the 
 occiput, or the epigastrium, assume the office of the eves. 
 
 These phenomena might be explained by the heightened 
 muscular sense spoken of previously. In their last analysis 
 all sense perceptions are some form of touch. But the eye 
 is also a well-constructed optical instrument, for without 
 taking further time to describe minutely all the parts of the 
 eye — and it is most daintily put together — please to remember 
 that it is essentially a water camera. The sclerotic is the 
 
184 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 box, the cornea and crystalline lens are the lenses, and the 
 retina the plate on which the picture falls, upside down, 
 too, just as you have noticed it at the photographers ; but 
 we have been so used to seeing things upside down that 
 when we do see them right side up they look just the other 
 way. This and some other minor defects so provoked a 
 crabbed pedantic German optician, that he declared lately 
 that if the eye was brought to him as an optical instrument 
 he would throw it away on account of its many faults. 
 If this is so, it is a great pity that he was not consulted before 
 our eyes were made ; for unfortunately a poor eye cannot be 
 made as good as new. Moreover, good care must be taken 
 of the " blue seas," " dark pools," " lode stars," or whatever 
 else the poets may call them ; these willing servants must 
 not be overtaxed. Nature gives you fair warning when you 
 are doing this, and just as soon as the eyes begin to feel 
 tired give them rest, even if you are only two pages distant 
 from the blissful marriage of the heroine. Eyes that look as 
 if they were trimmed with red tape would take away half 
 the charms of a Venus, to say nothing of the unlovely temper 
 that it produces to have your eyes feel as if they were full of 
 sticks. For all of which reasons take good care of these 
 photographic galleries of yours, and above all never admit 
 there a picture which you would be unwilling to see again. 
 It may color the retina but for the fraction of a second, and 
 then is gone, as we think forever ; but not so. Its negative 
 has only been laid away in the brain, and we know not at 
 what day or what hour memory's magical chemicals may 
 bring it back in all its sickening realities. Finally, heed 
 Dr. Lincoln's directions for the use of the eyes, which are 
 so practical and useful that we copy them entire from Dr. 
 Hunt's Hygiene: 
 
 Kt When writing, reading, drawing, sewing, always take care 
 that, (a) the room is comfortably cool, and the feet warm ; 
 (b) there is nothing tight about the neck ; (c) there is plenty 
 of light, without dazzling the eyes ; (d) the sun does not 
 shine directly upon the object you are at work upon, or upon 
 
The Daughters of Music. 185 
 
 objects in front of you ; (e) the light does not come from in 
 front ; it is best when it comes over the left shoulder ; (/) 
 the head is not bent very much over the work ; (//) the page 
 is nearly perpendicular to the line of sight ; that is, that the 
 line of the eye is nearly opposite the middle of the page, for 
 an object held slanting is not seen so clearly ; (A) that the 
 page or other object is not less than fifteen inches from the 
 eye ; (i) in any case where the eyes have any defect, give up 
 needlework, drawing of fine maps, and all such work, except 
 for very short tasks in the morning, (j) In addition, never 
 study or write before breakfast by lamplight ; (k) do not lie 
 down when reading ; (l) if your eyes are aching from fire- 
 light, from looking at the snow, from overwork, or other 
 causes, a pair of colored glasses may be advised to be used 
 for a while ; (m) never play tricks with the eyes, as squinting 
 or rolling them. («) The eyes are often troublesome when 
 the stomach is out of order, (o) Avoid reading or sewing 
 by twilight, or when debilitated by recent illness, especially 
 fever, (p) It is indispensable in all forms of labor requiring 
 the exercise of vision on minute objects that the worker 
 should rise from his task now and then, take a few deep in- 
 spirations with closed mouth ; stretch the frame out into the 
 most erect posture, throw the arms backward and forward, 
 and if possible step to a window, or open air, if only for a 
 minute. 
 
 To test for color-blindness, obtain a set of test worsteds, 
 which should be spread upon a white cloth. First lay 
 the green skein a little to one side, and tell the subject to 
 lay alongside of the test skein all the skeins containing a 
 shade of that color in any degree. Avoid naming " green " 
 to him. If he throws out only shades of green or light blues 
 his color sense is normal (C.S.N.) and the test is completed. 
 But if in addition he throws out any shade of gray, or light 
 yellow, salmon, or pink, he is color-blind. If he hesitates, 
 as if in doubt about them, but yet does not throw them out, 
 lie probably has " feeble color sense " (C.S.F). 
 
186 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 TELEGRAPHS AND PHONES. 
 
 What is a nerve ? If you ever watched a dentist draw 
 one out you will probably remember that when it came it 
 looked like nothing as much as a little snip of wet, white 
 cotton thread. Very likely you were provoked that such a 
 contemptible little thing should have given you so much 
 pain, but if you put this thready bit of nerve beneath a mi- 
 croscope you will find it far different from any thread that 
 ever came from the reels of a Clark or Coates. One of their 
 fibers would look beneath such a glass like a huge, knotty 
 hawser ; but this nerve is shut up in a smooth, shining 
 sheath. Break into this and we find the true nerve fibers, 
 which consist of tubes made of a white substance (of Pur- 
 kinje), and the axis cylinder, or gray substance (of Schwann). 
 This pearly gray substance is the really essential part of 
 the nerve, the wire in this telegraph system, and all else 
 are but accessories and packing, something like the gutta 
 percha wrapped around the wires in a submarine cable. 
 Hence we find that wherever we are to receive impressions, 
 this gray substance of Purkinje is always on hand to receive 
 and transmit these messages, pleasurable or otherwise. 
 
 In the nerve we have been considering we have all the 
 kinds of nervous matter that are known to us ; namely, the 
 gray, white, and their various sheaths. But these substances 
 may be arranged in very different ways. We may have a 
 simple nerve fiber, or we may have a perfect whorl and maze 
 of these simple nerves, looking so much like a tangled spool 
 of thread that they have been called a plexus, from plexto, 
 to weave. • 
 
 Again, we have nervous masses which are called ganglia, 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 
 
 187 
 
 knots. And such they are, for they are really gordian knots 
 of the gray substance, which in these ganglia takes the form 
 of brambly cells, each containing in its center a clot of our 
 old friend, germinal matter. 
 
 These ganglia, or nerve 
 knots, appear to be in fact 
 small brains, placed where 
 most needed, and doing their 
 peculiar work without troub- 
 ling the greater brain, or en- 
 cephalon ; thus, for instance, 
 there are fifteen or twenty 
 of these ganglia scattered 
 through the heart, and it is 
 to these that the heart car- 
 ries its wants, only in rare 
 and dangerous cases appeal- 
 ing to the higher court of the 
 brain proper for assistance. 
 
 These ganglia, plexi, and 
 simple nerve fibers are all that 
 we find in the sympathetic 
 nervous system. (See cut, page 93.) Nerves, like the muscles, 
 are of two kinds; namely, those which act without our knowl- 
 edge, and those which give us fair warning of their troubles 
 and trials. The involuntary nerves have been named the 
 sympathetic, the others the cerebro-spinal system. It is the 
 sympathetic system by which, when we sleep as well as when 
 we are awake, we live and have our being, for it regulates 
 the work of the heart and lungs and all the functions of 
 mere animal life. 
 
 The lowest forms of animals have only this sympathetic 
 nervous system, the very lowest owning nothing but a single 
 ganglion with two or more nerves attached. Rising in the 
 scale, we next find animals with two or more of these nerve 
 knots about the mouth, or arranged in pairs like the ganglia 
 down the back of a caterpillar. 
 
 Sympathetic ganglion cell from 
 Klein. 
 
 man.— 
 
188 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 But we have no right to despise those animals which have 
 only nerve-knots for brains ; for to tell the truth we are all 
 made after the same plan. There was a time when all this 
 wonderful nervous system of ours consisted of only two 
 white cords wrapped in a bit of cartilage. After a little 
 there appeared on these little cords five tiny swellings, look- 
 ing like beads on a string, and if you should look into the 
 
 Cross-section of the skull and brain, made just behind the ears, showing the ven- 
 tricles, corpus callosum, cerebrum, and the longitudinal and transverse sinuses — 
 Rosers' Vademccum. 
 
 brains of all the higher animals yov, would find the same five 
 
 swellings, somewhat enlarged, to be sure, and now we call 
 
 them ganglia; but these same five ganglia can be detected 
 
 in almost every cranium. In the lowest fishes they lie open, 
 
 like eggs in the nest of a bird, but in our brains they are 
 
 sheltered beneath an arch which we call the hemisphere of 
 
 the brain. (See cut above, which also shows that the larger 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 189 
 
 brain, like the rest of us, is made of two halves, so joined 
 together by a strung band that they form a sort of flattened 
 sphere, rough outside and smooth inside.) 
 
 The heads into which I have had the privilege of looking 
 I have found well packed with a grayish pulp which goes un- 
 der the name of brains. You have all heard this compared 
 to blanc-mange, but to me it always looks as if the blanc- 
 mange had been allowed to get very dusty, and, to tell the 
 truth, they remind one by their color and appearance of hasty 
 pudding or well boiled Indian meal. 
 
 This grayish tint is due to the same gray substance that we 
 found in the nerve fiber. There it was inside, but here mainly 
 on the outside (excepting the ganglia). Hence we might 
 consider the brain as made up of a vast number of little star- 
 like bodies (nerve-cells) held together by millions of pellucid 
 threads, the same which, wrapped together in bundles, we call 
 nerves, and when we cut down into this mass of connecting 
 threads they look as white and creamy as the nerves them- 
 selves. It is nerve matter, and, as we presently shall see, its 
 office is the same as nerves every-where else ; namely, to 
 carry messages. 
 
 Few of you, I presume, will ever peep at the brain of a 
 human being ; but any of you can get a very fair idea of 
 its shape from the next English walnut which you crack at 
 dessert. This resemblance was observed at least as early as 
 the days of Cowley, who found similarity not only in shape, 
 but also in its coverings to those of the brain: 
 
 " Membranes soft as silk her kernel bind, 
 Whereof the innermost is of the tenderest kind, 
 Like those which on the brain of man we find, 
 And which are in a seam-joined shell confined." 
 
 And just here we must spare a moment for the three mem- 
 branes which line our "seam-joined" brain-shell. These the 
 anatomists have named the dura mater, the arachnoid, and the 
 pia mater; or, the harsh mother, the spider's web, and the lov- 
 ing mother. Very poetical, to be sure, but the medical stu- 
 
190 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 dent gave us a better idea of their uses when he called them 
 respectively the brain's coat, shirt, and flannel; and truly the 
 dura mater coat is a good fit of the best material, for it is so 
 tough, and lines the cranium so closely, that you can crack 
 a skull with a hammer without tearing the dura mater. 
 The spider's web shirt, as its name implies, is very delicate, 
 and scarcely more than a smooth surface over which the 
 tough dura mater can glide without injuring the blood- 
 vessels in the pia mater. The latter is not so much a mem- 
 brane as a perfect net-work of capillaries, into which larger 
 blood-vessels divide and subdivide, lest by their pulsation 
 they should disarrange the pulpy structure of the brain. And 
 now, though these membranes have been spoken of as the 
 brain's clothing, please remember that they are found not only 
 around the brain, but the same three, with only slight modi- 
 fications, are also stretched over the after -brain and clear 
 down the spinal cord ; for the spinal cord and its fluids are 
 held in a triple sack like the brain. 
 
 And now just a word or two about that little after-brain, 
 or cerebellum, which is hung on the back of the cerebrum, 
 like the little " cannon-ball water-falls " with which the 
 rage of false hair began. The cerebellum is hollow and fur- 
 rowed and puckered, but so unlike the rest of the brain that 
 it seems to have been made on a different plan. It is so 
 curiously mixed gray and white nerve matter, that a cross 
 section of it would make you think of marble-cake. So it 
 appears as if the cerebellum was made up of three crumpled 
 bags. From this bag issue four legs ; three of these unite to 
 make, as we shall presently see, the most vital part of the body, 
 the medulla. The whole spinal cord might be considered as 
 a tail to the cerebellum, and is made up of a pile of the 
 ganglia, or nerve knots, from whose sides issue thirty-one 
 pairs of nerves, whose functions will be described later. 
 
 The different parts of the nervous system have very dif- 
 ferent duties. Unfortunately for physiology, most men ob- 
 ject to have their brains experimented upon ; but dumb 
 animals have no rights that French physiologists think them- 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 
 
 191 
 
 selves bound to respect ; so they have thrust red-hot needles 
 through the various ganglia of pigeons' brains and noticed 
 what faculties were impaired by so doing. From these ex- 
 periments, and the various injuries to the human brain of 
 which we have reliable accounts, it seems very probable that 
 its various faculties might be mapped like a geography into 
 regions of 
 
 a — Conscious thought. 
 
 b— Smell. 
 
 c — Conscious sensation. 
 
 d — Voluntary motion. 
 
 e — Sight. 
 
 f— Forwarding house. 
 
 g — Vital point. 
 
 -<i2. 
 
 TS. 
 
 The Spinal Cord. 
 
 A. A front view of a portion of the cord. On the right side the anterior roots, A. 
 R., are entire ; on the left side they are cut, to show the posterior roots, P.P. B. A 
 transverse section of the cord. A, the anterior fissure ; P, the posterior fissure ; G, the 
 central canal ; C, the gray matter, W, the white matter ; A.R., the anterior root, P. 
 R., the posterior root, Gn, the ganglion, and T, the trunk, of a spinal nerve. 
 
 We might, too, consider the spinal cord as thirty-one little 
 brains piled atop of one another, each of which has its double 
 pair of nerves. Generally these spinal ganglia do their work 
 without troubling the greater brain. For instance, we are 
 cramped, and move to make ourselves easier without thinking 
 to will any thing about it. And how do we do this ? Some- 
 thing in this way : I imagine a message comes creeping up 
 the " P.R." root of a spinal ganglion, saying such and such 
 muscles are tired and need a change. These ganglia are 
 something like a police justice in that the minor grievances 
 
192 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 of the body are carried to them and, if possible, disposed 
 of without appealing to the brain. If, therefore, this 
 "P.R." ganglia finds that the case comes within its juris- 
 diction it sends its command back down the corresponding 
 motor nerve, and the matter is speedly ended. But suppose 
 this "P.R." ganglion has not been sufficient for the case; we 
 may have cut our finger, and the smart is not appeased by 
 simply pulling the finger away from the knife-blade. The 
 "P.R." ganglion has done all it could, and so it sends word 
 up to the optic thalamus (see cut) by means of myriads of 
 little sensory telegraph wires, which cross over almost as 
 soon as they enter the cord, for the bureau for right-hand 
 pains, etc., is on the left side of the brain, and vice versa. 
 And now you have the information at sensation head- 
 quarters, and what are you going to do about it ? That de- 
 pends upon circumstances. It might remain there simply as 
 a sensational pain and that be all about it. But unless you 
 are deeply engrossed in something else, or very stupid, the 
 word is telegraphed up to the supreme court in the region of 
 conscious thought, which ought to give a verdict according 
 to its best knowledge and previous experience — or too often 
 from caprice. For instance, it might decide that you need 
 not do any thing about it, and there the matter ends ; but 
 more likely it decides that the wisest thing for you to do is 
 to put that finger into your mouth, or put a light bandage 
 around the limb, or this, that, or the other thing ; but what- 
 ever is resolved to be done is immediately telegraphed down 
 to the bureau of motion — usually a whole batch of commands, 
 such as in the first case, where we might suppose them to be : 
 stick up your finger, elevate your wrist and arm, open your 
 mouth, etc. Now this whole squad of commands is hurried 
 down to where the work is sorted out, and particular orders 
 are sent to each muscle, whose aid will be needed in this in- 
 tricate work ; for even a little thing, as moving one's finger, 
 requires more servants than were necessary to move the 
 king of Spain back from the fire. All this the cerebellum 
 attends to, and sends each message of these crossways down 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 193 
 
 the neck until they all come out of their appropriate motor 
 nerves, so exactly in the nick of time that one might think 
 thrusting your finger into your mouth had been your one 
 great work since you were born. 
 
 If you ask what these nerve messages are I must tell 
 you frankly that I don't know. Many physiologists think 
 them a subtle form of electricity. Possibly it may be, but I 
 want to say just here that though the soul may use electricity 
 to send its messages, yet the electricity is no more a soul than 
 the message sent along the telegraph wires is the man who 
 sends it. The materialist would have us believe, because he 
 finds heat and electricity in the brain, that there is no soul 
 besides these. As well believe that the click of the key 
 and the fuming of the battery could send intelligent mes- 
 sages across the Atlantic without an operator. We have 
 been describing only our marvelous telegraphic apparatus, 
 which anticipated Professor Morse by some 6,000 years ; 
 but its operator hath no man seen at any time, for spirit 
 must ever elude the physiologist's grasp. 
 
 So we would do better to quit grasping after it, for at 
 
 best we should only result in failure. But we may spend a 
 
 few moments profitably asking how these messages are sent 
 
 "and what will follow on their using." We say as quick as 
 
 thought, but Professor Helmholtz has discovered that we can 
 
 tli ink no faster than eighty feet a second, according to the 
 
 direction in which we would send it — by which I mean that 
 
 an order or pain cannot travel up and down a nerve faster 
 
 than the previous mentioned rates; whereupon some English 
 
 mathematician, who evidently was trying to keep Satan at 
 
 bay, sat down and figured up that we could not possibly 
 
 entertain during a life-time more than 3, loo, 160,000 distinct 
 
 ideas. Nothing like being exact. But unfortunately it does 
 
 not follow that we all have that number of distinct ideas ; 
 
 for we need training to think, as much as we once did to 
 
 walk. It is a trite saying that we are bundles of habits, and 
 
 in nothing is this more true than in our ways of thinking. 
 
 We are very apt to think in ruts, especially as we grow 
 9 
 
194 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 older. "For custom hath made it a property of easiness," 
 
 and do we not all like to take our ease in our own inn? 
 Take " slang," for instance ; slang is only mental laziness, 
 in using some senseless phrase in such a way that you force 
 your listener to guess your meaning, providing what you say 
 has any. Just now it may sound very piquant and witty, 
 but that unlucky phrase will thrust its head into society 
 at some time when it will make you heartily ashamed of 
 yourself. And so of the thousand and one uncouth actions 
 and tricks into which we fall as easily as sliding down hill. 
 
 So let us go back to our telegraphic apparatus and ask 
 what are its charges for sending messages. Why, nothing, 
 you say. Are you so sure of that ? I know that nature 
 posts up no tariff of so much for the first ten words, but 
 nature's charges are no less certain. She is a very Shylock 
 in the bonds that she makes us give for the use of these 
 nerves, and gets the pound of flesh. Ask your friend who 
 suffers from the neuralgia, etc., whether nature's knives are 
 not keener than any made of steel. Just here I want to say 
 that for those poor mortals whose bonds went forfeit by their 
 parents before they were born we ought to have only the 
 kindliest pity; for they live in a prison-house of torture of 
 which one in good health can have but the faintest idea. Why 
 these fearful penalties have been set over against our most 
 exquisite pleasures is more than I can say; but "the law 
 allows it and the court awards it," so there is no use of our 
 murmuring, especially as there is rarely necessity that our 
 bonds should go forfeit. Each thought and sensation re- 
 quires a certain expenditure of nerve influence, electricity, 
 psychic force — I care not what you call it, as long as 
 we understand that every thought takes something from 
 our nervous supply in the same way that every message 
 requires electricity ; and just as the battery needs pro- 
 vision for a fresh supply so must our nervous system have 
 its supplies. Ample provision has been made for this. 
 Sleep is nerve food par excellence, and as long as we have 
 this we can laugh old Shylock nature to scorn ; for regular 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 195 
 
 natural sleep is the solid coin with which we ought daily to 
 meet his bond. How much does he demand daily ? That 
 depends upon the person ; tor no inflexible law can be laid 
 down for every one. The old saying was, six hours for a 
 man, seven for a woman, eight for a child, and nine for a 
 fool ; and if that be true I am afraid that there are more chil- 
 dren and fools than men and women in America. We live 
 too fast, and in consequence are the most restless and irri- 
 table people in the world; which simply means that the Shy- 
 lock nature is letting us gradually overdraw our account, 
 and some day, when we least expect it, he will have his 
 forfeit, though it leaves us nervous wrecks or raving maniacs. 
 
 There is an Italian who has invented what he calls a 
 " nerve-tuner," by which he promises when we are all 
 unstrung — on edge, as we call it — with a few twists to 
 put our nerves, like the strings of a piano, back into concert 
 pitch and keep them there. Thrice blessed Italian, come to 
 America, and if what thou sayest be true we will greet thee 
 as never was man greeted before ! But in the meantime we 
 may say with Sancho Panza, " Blessed is the man that in- 
 vented sleep ! " Here is no opportunity to quote the many 
 beautiful tributes to sleep, or even to discuss what sleep 
 is, but only to say bluntly that this matter of sleep settles 
 largely what kind of men and women we are. There is a 
 pleasurable excitement in the whirl of fashionable life, but 
 doc- it pay ? For each hour thus spent we have to pay 
 its full price, and nature's laws cannot be defrauded the 
 twentieth part of one poor scruple. No form of battery 
 can be used continuously without exhaustion. 
 
 Sleep is nature's method of recharging aright these subtle 
 batteries of ours, without which we cannot be sound either in 
 mind, body, or estate ; therefore, count it among your great- 
 est blessings if, like Sam Jones, you can go to bed and 
 sleep. "Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights," 
 may be of little value as conspirators, but they are happier 
 m"i) and better citizens than those who lie awake o' nights 
 to plot and plan. In fact, it is a general and safe rule that 
 
196 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 when business crowds itself into your sleeping hours your 
 business is pushing you, and not you your business. Beware, 
 for the time is not far off when you and your business must 
 part company, probably both of you crippled by your undue 
 zeal. The first signal of danger being done to these exquisite 
 nerve-batteries is wakefulness. You can't sleep as you used 
 to, or you sleep restlessly, and dream perpetually of your 
 daily vocation. Look out, or the undue tension may ruin 
 irretrievably the delicate mechanism of your brain. "O, 
 nonsense," you say. "I live on excitement, and don't need 
 as much sleep as formerly." Nature never makes any mis- 
 take. As w T ell might you disregard the warning bell of an 
 approaching locomotive as this symptom of wakefulness 
 without apparent cause. You may in either case escape with 
 your life, if you continue on your way without heeding the 
 warning bell, but the probabilities are that you will be per- 
 manently crippled from the unequal contest. America, more 
 than any other civilized country, is full of men, and women 
 especially, who drag out a wretched existence simply because 
 they have disregarded these warnings of an overtaxed 
 nervous system, and have kept on their way until they were 
 tossed aside by the engine of wealth, fashion, or ambition, 
 and left crippled wrecks for the rest of their lives. "O, but 
 every body does so, and I must somehow, or I shall be talked 
 about and pitied." Then be talked about and pitied for a 
 while ; continually so, if necessary ; but, for the love of your 
 own bodies and souls, don't commit suicide, for it is nothing 
 less. Perhaps if only yourselves and your families were to be 
 considered your suicide would be preferable, for this nervous 
 exhaustion produces an irritability and waspishness that 
 makes your coming more dreaded than the gout. You are 
 harsh, crabbed, unreasonable, suspicious, until you hate your- 
 self, and the world looks hopefully on toward your death. 
 And all this solely because you will have your own way, and 
 hurt yourself in spite of all that can safely be done to pre- 
 vent you. 
 
 Does it pay ? No, you say ; I know r it does not, and I have 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 197 
 
 [•rayed for grace to carry me through this time of trial. My 
 dear madam, will you allow me kindly to say that you need 
 rest fully as much as sanctification ? Perhaps I would better 
 say you need rest and sanctification, for your burden is largely 
 self-imposed ; so don't carry it any longer. " But," says a 
 busy man, " I can't lay my burdens down. I know they are 
 self imposed, but just now my affairs are in such a condition 
 that it is the height of folly to neglect them." My friend, 
 whoever you are — preacher, teacher, doctor, over-anxious 
 mother — if you are getting nervous, irritable, wakeful, it is 
 the height of folly to keep at what you are at present doing. 
 Stop while you can, for before long stopping will be useless. 
 Instead of stopping you will be stopped, or " lag superfluous 
 on the stage." 
 
 Another manifestation of nerve-tire is neuralgia, usually, 
 too, an affection of the better and more finely organized half 
 of humanity. Woman's greater endurance is purchased at the 
 expense of a greater wear and tear of her nervous tissue. A 
 man will lie down when overworked and dispirited, and groan 
 off his nervous depression until he comes to a better frame of 
 mind and body, while a woman under the same circumstances 
 will literally go through fire and water to finish what she is 
 doing, whether or not it is worth doing at all, and then go 
 into nervous bankruptcy. Her nerves, so long kept at undue 
 tension, now fairly shriek in agony, and we say she is a mar- 
 tyr to neuralgia. And she is that, but in the same way that 
 a man is a victim to bankruptcy after he has recklessly specu- 
 lated beyond his means. Neuralgia is the torture of paying 
 overdrafts on our nervous system without resources to fall 
 back upon. In such a plight there is no other man to do 
 the walking all night, and so you needs must do it, while 
 Shylock nature is cutting off her pounds of pain for the 
 dacats you so lavishly squandered. Does it pay? None of 
 US who have ever been there would say so while in the 
 tort ure, but too many of us soon forget this sharp lesson, and 
 go on discounting and redisconnting our nervous paper until 
 we come to that absolute nerve-penury or pauperism to 
 
198 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 which the doctors give the name of neurasthenia. I do not 
 mean to say that every case of neuralgia is due to overdrafts 
 on the nervous system, but in nine times out of ten it can 
 only be cured by living within the honest limits of our nerv- 
 ous system. I know that is often annoying and painful to 
 one with large ambitions and small resources, but so it is 
 elsewhere and every- where. Better the narrower and often 
 humiliating limits of a well-preserved neuvous system than 
 the pinching poverty of years of neurasthenia. 
 
 Neurasthenia — literally, weakness of the nerves — is a fash- 
 ionable complaint in these latter days, but it truly designates 
 a pitiable condition, not to be laughed at or despised by those 
 more fortunate, any more than poverty elsewhere. If you 
 are so broad-waisted and strong-armed that you do not know 
 you have any nerves, be thankful for it; but know, neverthe- 
 less, that our modern civilization has given us as one of its 
 products the neurasthenic woman, whose every nerve lies 
 quivering on the brink of an explosion of pain. Strong 
 coffee, poor ventilation, improper food, fashionable clothing, 
 the hot-air furnace, the sewing-machine, the three nights of 
 stairs, and, more than all these, the worry and fret and ambi- 
 tions of modern life, have stolen away the bodies and health 
 of our American women. 
 
 I have frequently walked our city streets looking through 
 the crowds almost in vain for a thoroughly healthydooking 
 American girl. Bright faces, stylish dresses, graceful figures, 
 intelligent and cultured countenances can be found on every 
 hand, but joined to such bodies that it makes your heart 
 ache for their probable futures. These girlish forms will 
 make the nervous wrecks of the next twenty years, and may 
 the coming doctor know how to treat them better than those 
 at present on the stage! Said an exasperated physician once 
 in my hearing : " Great heavens, madam, you bring me 
 ninety pounds of nervous wreck, and a handful of false teeth 
 and hair, and ask me to make a whole woman out of that in 
 two weeks. It can't be done, madam, it can't be done." 
 Alas, it can't be done, it can't be done ; and if recovery 
 
Telegeaphs axd Phoxes. 199 
 
 comes at all it must come as the result of many months of 
 weary watching and patient care. 
 
 Better fewer accomplishments, better less company, better 
 less excitement, better fewer books, papers — yes, better less 
 almost any thing — than the modern city, bloodless, libel on 
 God's idea of womanhood. The Creator made every thing 
 good, and if we are not such as he would have us it is because 
 we prefer our way to his; and our ways not being as wise as 
 his we necessarily fall into trouble. Even then the penalties 
 are the lightest and best that eternal wisdom can devise to 
 correct mistakes and stubbornness; but we will and we wont, 
 like stubborn children, and then, in the intervals of the pain 
 sent to prevent further pain, we groan out that we are fear- 
 fully and wonderfully made. 
 
 So we are ; and there is no more exquisite instance of this 
 than this same nervous system, which is to us the source of 
 all our pleasure and pain, chiefly given to prevent us hurting 
 ourselves ; for, did you ever stop to think what great care 
 has been taken to guard us from all possible harm? Xo 
 safety deposit vault ever had half so much pains taken to 
 guard its treasures as have b^en lavished upon the house in 
 which we live. Thousands of dollars are freely spent to 
 connect these safety vaults with burglar alarms and proper 
 protection, but no one has ever dreamed of encasing them 
 in such a net-work of protection as is found in every square 
 inch of our bodies. Our burglar alarms are our nerves, and 
 so complete is the entwinement of these nervous fibers about 
 our bodies that if there were any way in which the rest 
 of our bodies could be dissolved away from them, leaving 
 the nerves intact, these would give us a complete outline of 
 the whole body almost as perfect as that of the areolar tissue. 
 (See page 22.) So intricate is this interlacing of these tiny 
 white nerve- fibers over the surface of the body that v<>u 
 cannot thrust in the point of the finest cambric needle with- 
 out touching a nerve: for it is these alone that make us feel 
 pain. Blood, bone and muscles uive us no sensations when 
 they are cut, for a paralyzed limb may even be amputated 
 
200 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 without feeling, because its nerves no longer respond to their 
 usual stimuli. 
 
 What, then, is this nervous system, which, like most of the 
 other good things we enjoy in this world, is capable of mak- 
 ing us exquisitely happy or Avretchedly miserable ? It is made 
 up, as has already been said, of at least three parts; namely, 
 (1) the general office (brain), (2) automatic trunk-lines 
 (spinal cord), and (3) special receiving offices, distributed 
 over the whole body, so that you cannot touch one of them 
 anywhere, even with a pin, without having word instantly 
 sent to the general office as to where the trouble is. 
 
 This general office we call the brain. As already said, 
 when taken from the body it looks very like a bowl full of 
 ill-cooked mush or blanc-mange. And yet on the way in 
 which we use those two handfuls of grayish matter hang our 
 destinies for all time and eternity. It would take a large 
 library to hold the books that have already been written upon 
 the various parts and functions of a human brain, and we 
 are very far yet from knowing all that we would like to in 
 the matter. Suffice it now to say that we have good reasons 
 for believing that the different parts of our brains do different 
 parts of our head-work. One part tells us of forms and colors, 
 another of distances, another of words and thoughts, and so 
 on, until a map of the brain under the present system is almost 
 a short course on the mental and moral faculties of man. It 
 is, in fact, an unsurpassable telephone board for all the wants, 
 desires, and pleasures of man, such as nothing but infinite 
 wisdom could have constructed. 
 
 Hardly less wonderful are the automatic trunk-lines, or 
 spinal cord and nerves, as they are usually called. These are 
 really, as you see, a prolongation of the brain, located in the 
 backbone to protect it from injury. (See cut, page 58.) In 
 regard to their functions, imagine, if you can, a telegraph line 
 whose wires are capable of doing their work without direction, 
 and you have in brief a very good idea of the work done by the 
 spinal or reflex nerves. If you look at them a little more 
 closely, you will find that, like the brain, they are divided 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 201 
 
 into two equal parts, longitudinally, one to serve each half 
 of the body, and that these halves, on account of their soft, 
 gelatinous composition, are wrapped in no less than three 
 tough enveloping membranes, and then the whole is inclosed 
 in a bony case. Like the brain, they are made up of white 
 and gray matter, the latter inside of the white and forming 
 there on cross section a sort of rude letter H. From the ex- 
 tremities of these H's sixty-two spinal nerves are given off and 
 pass out to perform their duties through as many notches, or 
 holes, in the backbone. These nerves form thirty-one pairs, 
 and soon unite into a common trunk by means of a ganglion. 
 Now, ganglion is a Greek word for a knot, and is used to 
 denote curious little knots or swellings found every now and 
 then along the course of nerves, especially where they branch 
 or unite with other nerves. The use of these ganglia was 
 for a long time unknown, but latterly it has been well proven 
 that they act the part of subsidiary brains, and are capable of 
 doing automatically less important work. They all have direct 
 or indirect connection with the brain proper, and if necessary 
 can communicate with it, but are capable of running very 
 much of our body without any interference with it from the 
 brain proper. For instance, we start off to walk. We are 
 conscious of willing that our leg machinery should propel us 
 forward, but once having started it we leave the rest of the 
 work to the ganglionic and spinal nervous system, without 
 giving any thought to it until it is time for us to will to go 
 in some other direction; then we telegraph to the ganglia to 
 carry us in that way, or stop, as the case may be, like the con- 
 ductor and the fireman on a train. These ganglia, then, regulate 
 automatically the pressure of our feet and the proper contrac- 
 tion and relaxation of all the muscles necessary for locomotion 
 without our giving any conscious thought to it. Thisthcvdo 
 by automatically regulating and controlling the proper nerve 
 supply — or co-ordination, as we call it. Why, for instance, does 
 a babe put his spoon as often into hie ear as into his mouth ? 
 Because hifl ganglia have not yet learned to co-ordinate 
 hia muscles and to fore- them into work in harmony. And 
 
 9* 
 
202 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 so it would be with us in every action requiring more than a 
 single muscle, if it were not for these little insignificant knots of 
 
 gray nervous matter. 
 Alcohol takes away their 
 power of co-ordination, 
 and hence we see drunk- 
 en men " reel to and fro 
 and be at their wits' 
 end" to know which 
 way to lean, or how to 
 sit down without hold- 
 
 Isolated ganglion cell from the anterior horn of the ing on ; and the most 
 human cord.-Klein. soher man in the world 
 
 would be in like plight if it were not for these ganglia, which 
 act very much like the relays, I believe they call them, on a 
 telegraphic circuit, which do so much of the work of trans- 
 mission without requiring a conscious operator in their stead. 
 So it is with our ganglia. If it were not for them we should 
 be tired to death merely trying to remember to keep alive. 
 How is it that we never forget to breathe ? We certainly 
 do not think to do so every time. Why, these ganglia and 
 respiratory centers take the matter in hand, and we have never 
 to give it a second thought until our lungs get out of repair, 
 or are overtasked with an unusual amount of work. Whether 
 we are sleeping or waking, busy or idle, happy or broken- 
 hearted, these patient, uncomplaining servants work on and 
 on and on for us, giving us leisure for improvement and the 
 pursuit of happiness. The work of certain ganglia, as the res- 
 piratory centers, we can increase or diminish somewhat at 
 will, but we cannot entirely stop them at our volition, for we 
 cannot hold our breath, voluntarily, until we choke. And 
 over other of these automatic centers we have no control at all, 
 as, for instance, those which regulate the heart's actions, which 
 are entirely beyond our willing. The brain's function is to 
 receive the messages passed into it by the nerves, and to de- 
 cide from these impressions what is best to be done under the 
 circumstances. This is what we call psychic force or power, 
 
Telegraphs and Phoxes. 
 
 203 
 
 and its seat is located in the anterior hemispheres of the 
 brain, especially in the gray matter of the cerebrum, as 
 this part is called. Just behind and below the cerebrum, as 
 may be seen on page 188, is the cerebellum, or little brain, and 
 its prolongation, the medulla and spinal cord. In this cere- 
 bellum you see a curious leaf-like arrangement, to which the 
 older anatomists gave the name of the arbor vitce, or the tree of 
 life ; and it is well named, for in it are the ganglia, or centers, 
 which regulate our breathing, heart's beating, and all the func- 
 tions which are necessary to carry on our lives. 
 
 These are automatic, as has already been said, 
 and hence, as we sometimes see, a man may live 
 for years after all his powers of thinking and 
 perception are gone; for these automatic centers 
 work without his will or wish. Other of these 
 ganglia act reflexly, or by irritation elsewhere 
 than where the results are produced; for example, | 
 sneezing, which is a spasmodic expulsion of air 
 from the lungs, and is produced not by irrita- 
 tion in the lungs, where the spasm takes place, 
 but in the nose, whence the irritation is trans- 
 mitted to the ganglia, whose duty it is to forci- 
 bly drive the air out of our lungs when required, 
 whether we like it or not ; for we can no more 
 help sneezing than breathing. How does this 
 impulse or irritation pass from the nose to these 
 centers ? 
 
 Their microscopic appearance has already 
 been described; but we would again call to 
 mind the axis- cylinder, the central tiny white 
 fiber, and around this [a. c.) we find an oily 
 grayish substance that in life is probably fluid, 
 but after death becomes gelatinous and acts like 
 the rubber that is incited and poured around 
 the central core of our great submarine cables, white substance 
 Outside of the rubber in these cables we of the brain, 
 have an outer sheathing, and we find a similar arrangement 
 
 The axis, (a) 
 a pale, faintly 
 flbrillated band 
 or cylinder— the 
 gray substance 
 of Purkinje. This 
 has a very deli- 
 cate transparent 
 sheath, and ex- 
 ternal t<> tin's we 
 And the white 
 substanc e of 
 Schwann (c) an- 
 alogous to the 
 
204 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 in our nervous system; for each nerve is covered over 
 with a sheath, and each bundle of nerves is again covered, 
 exactly as we find the cables of wires covered with par- 
 afline for the use of the telegraph and telephone companies. 
 The purpose of the paraffine or rubber in these is to 
 prevent leakage of the electricity, as these packings and 
 sheathings are non-conductors of electricity. The same is 
 true of the nerve-envelopes ; in fact, their arrangement is so 
 exactly like that of the best constructed electrical cables that 
 we cannot help thinking that both were constructed to con- 
 duct something very much alike. I know there are those that 
 stoutly maintain that nerve force is not electricity; and it is 
 not, in the sense that an electrical battery is the same thing 
 as a live man; but nevertheless nerve force is closely allied 
 to that wonderful thing that for want of some better name 
 and clearer understanding we agree to call electricity. In 
 these latter days they photograph with electric light, and 
 perhaps something analogous takes place within the brain. 
 Each of its billions of starry cells may possibly hold within 
 it photographic transparencies waiting for memory's lantern 
 to restore them to us with all their original beauty and color. 
 Thus each of us may carry about with us a picture-gallery like 
 that of blind old Xiebuhr, or Louis Philippe's state china which 
 was decorated with views of all the homes in which he had 
 lived, and they were many and various; for if we will we may 
 paint every old pot and pan with the paintings of memory and 
 imagination until they are fairer than Sevres china. " Make for 
 yourself nests of pleasant thoughts," says Ruskin, and the hap- 
 piest man is the one whose brain is full of such pleasant resting 
 nooks; but what shall we say of the man or boy who fills his 
 mind with Pompeiian pictures and vile thoughts, to keep them 
 there for the rest of his life. He is a vandal, or worse, who 
 would defile a king's palace in this way, and still coarser if it 
 is his own home. Such pictures and stories burn into mem- 
 ory like a hot iron, and, unfortunately, they are so common 
 that the White Cross League is needed fully as much here as 
 in old England, where it originated. (See Appendix.) 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 205 
 
 To turn to another and pleasanter subject, let us look 
 briefly for a few moments at our ears; for we have in 
 the body no daintier adaptation of means to ends than 
 that seen in the organs of hearing. "We think the telephone 
 a great invention, and so it is, but it is an old one — older 
 than most of us think ; for unless we do so stop to think we 
 forget that each of us carries about with us a pair of telephones 
 better than either the Edison or the pan-electric. Our ears, 
 fortunately, are not so cumbersome as a Bell instrument; but 
 if we examine them carefully we shall find the same princi- 
 ples underlying their construction which are employed in all 
 the modern telephones. The essential parts of all of these are 
 a vibrating plate and transmitting wires to carry these vibra- 
 tions to some listener at a distance. Now this is essentially 
 what we find our ears to be — true telephones, though con- 
 structed more delicately than any of those of man's make. 
 Where, for instance, can you find a receiver as delicately 
 fashioned as the external ear ? At its worst it is a thing of 
 beauty and most admirably adapted to the purpose for which 
 it was made — namely, catching and conveying to the mem- 
 brane of the drum of the ear as large a number as possible of 
 the sounds about us. This membrane of the ear corresponds 
 to the vibrating plate of the telephone, and is shaped, though 
 smaller, exactly like the membranes used in the ordinary 
 home-made telephone. 
 
 The<e membranes are shallow cones, with the apexes 
 pointing downward and inward, anil cover over a cavity 
 in the hard bones of the skull to which the name of the 
 drum of the ear has been given, not so much to any 
 fancied resemblance of its shape to a drum as to the fact 
 that both en<ls of this cavity are covered with membrane 
 very like the parchment or skin of a drum-head. This ear- 
 drum has its sticks inside in the shape of three very small 
 bones, to which the names of hammer, anvil, and stirrup have 
 been given. These lie one upon another in such wise that the 
 handle of the hammer is fastened to the apex of the cone of 
 membrane which constitutes, as told you, the receiver of the 
 
206 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 telephone. Every time this vibrates it drives the head of the 
 hammer against its small bone-anvil, and the anvil in turn 
 pushes against the stirrup, and the stirrup against the mem- 
 brane at the other end of the drum. These little bones thus 
 constitute a short circuit to carry sounds across the air cham- 
 ber of the ear and transmit them to the membrane at the 
 further or inner end of the drum. What becomes of these 
 vibrations there ? All sounds are due to vibrations of vary- 
 ing rapidity. (See page 169.) Now, these vibrations, trav- 
 eling at their peculiar rate of speed, according to their pitch, 
 at last reach this further end of the drum, or the fenestra 
 ovale, as it is called, and passing through its membranous 
 curtain are received in some curious little canals hollowed 
 out of the hardest portions of the bones of the skull. In fact, 
 so snugly are they packed away there that if once inflamma- 
 tion gets into these semicircular canals the pain and pressure 
 are so great that it is enough to drive a man crazy — and it 
 has killed many a man before now and crippled more children, 
 especially those recovering from scarlet fever, where earache 
 is one of the things especially to be dreaded. These little 
 canals, of which we have been speaking, are so curiously 
 coiled and twisted upon themselves that I despair of de- 
 scribing their shape to you even by a cut, picture, and dia- 
 gram at the same time. Approximately they might in general 
 be described as three tiny hoops and a something not un- 
 like a snail-shell. These contain membranous bas^s filled 
 with fluid, by which we are able to distinguish between 
 the different qualities of sounds. How this is done is more 
 ingenious in method than any telephone yet invented. 
 
 First, the semicircular canals. Their duty is to dis- 
 tinguish as to the quantity and intensity of sounds, and not 
 as to their quality and pitch. This they do by wave im- 
 pulses, set in motion by the moving to and fro of the 
 stirrup, which, as we have already seen, takes place with 
 every sound entering the ear. These semicircular canals 
 are filled with a tiny water-tight sack exactly fitting it, 
 one end of which is fastened to the foot-plate of the 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 207 
 
 stirrup bone. They are filled with fluid in which float 
 some bits of sand, and into which fluid project long, 
 delicate filaments which cover the terminations of the 
 auditory nerves. Now, every time a sound reaches the mem- 
 brane of the drum it causes this to vibrate. Its vibration 
 moves the hammer, the hammer moves the anvil, the anvil 
 moves the stirrup, the motion of the stirrup pulls forward the 
 end of the tiny bag of water fastened to it. This motion of 
 the bag sets its contents into waves, and these waves cast 
 these bits of sand against the sensitive filaments lining the in- 
 side of the sac, and the impulse of this sand upon these fila- 
 ments when transmitted to the brain along the nerves gives 
 us there our perception of all soft and loud noises. Truly it 
 seems a process as long as getting the maiden married in the 
 house that Jack built, but really takes only the fraction of a 
 second to accomplish it, but none the less wonderful on that 
 account. The train of events is about the same in the "snail 
 shell," except that there the vibrations pass up and down 
 over something looking like a minature key-board, for on it 
 are fastened a vast number of fibers, pointed at an angle 
 like the keys of a piano, and striking not wires, as in a piano- 
 forte, but nerve terminations. Most likely each one of these 
 nerve ends, or keys, so to speak, represents a separate and 
 distinct musical impression. As Huxley says, " Each fraction 
 of tone which a well-trained ear is capable of distinguishing 
 is represented by a separate nerve fiber." A tuning-fork or 
 piano-string will, as you know, respond automatically to its 
 particular notes when sounded in its neighborhood ; so it 
 probably is with these fibers of Corti, which, as it would seem, 
 vibrate only in unison with their particular sound; that is, 
 they ought to, but the aural piano-fortes of some men are 
 so badly out of tune that they can scarcely distinguish " Old 
 Hundred" from "Yankee Doodle," although otherwise their 
 hearing is excellent. This was always a marvel to me until 
 I began to understand the different duties laid upon the dif- 
 ferent parts of our ears. Unless there is some congenital de- 
 fect we probably all hear alike until cultivation enables us to 
 
208 Physiology axd Hygiene. 
 
 appreciate nice distinctions of sound. This reaches its high- 
 est perfection in the blind, probably not because they have 
 any better hearing than the rest of us, but because their mis- 
 fortune makes them continually cultivate their hearing, for 
 like all of our faculties it is susceptible of very great improve- 
 ment under cultivation. Vocal culture trains both the 
 voice and ear at once. And yet, after all, there are vastly 
 more sounds that we cannot hear than those that we can. 
 Audible sounds are bound between the comparatively narrow 
 limits of those too low or slow in their vibrations for human 
 ears and those too high or rapid in their vibrations — like 
 those that comes from a mosquito's shrill song in the night — 
 which are too fine (high-pitched) to be caught by our dull 
 ears. Some day we shall have our ears unstopped, and shall 
 find out by actual hearing what it is that the stars literally 
 sing together, for we live in the midst of a world of melody, 
 very little of which ever reaches these mortal ears. 
 
 There is no organ we possess that we undervalue so gen- 
 erally as our ears ; for, grievous as is blindness, it is really 
 less of an affliction than deafness. Deafness so cuts off a man 
 from the rest of the world, and, in spite of the old witticism 
 to the contrary, most of us are not good company for ourselves. 
 It is not good in any sense for man to be alone, and our ears 
 are the most trustworthy means that we have of learning 
 that there are such things as human sympathy and brother- 
 hood in the world. There are more good men and women 
 than we dream of, and the only way we shall ever learn to 
 know them is through what we may hear them say. So let 
 us take good care of our ears. They are dainty and exquis- 
 ite instruments, and should not be stuffed with old cotton or 
 filthy sponges under the pretense of cleaning them. A little 
 soft cotton cloth gently twisted into the ear is all that ought 
 ever to be used for cleaning them; for more injury, I think, is 
 done by over-zealousness in this matter than by too little 
 care. The external ear should of course be kept clean, but 
 all poking or rubbing of the internal ear is bad, and often 
 positively injurious to so delicate a piece of mechanism. 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 209 
 
 So delicate is it that as soon as any thing goes wrong it gives 
 us very positive evidence of trouble by the sharp danger- 
 signal of earache. It is too positive a symptom to be 
 neglected, so that various remedies are tried until relief is 
 found, and usually with this comes a discharge from the ear. 
 This is generally slight, and there is so often no pain with it 
 that it is considered a matter of no moment, and yet ninety 
 per cent, of the cases of deafness that come to the doctors' 
 hands are from this cause. Remember, no such discharge 
 can ever be safely neglected — all the old women in the 
 country to the contrary notwithstanding. 
 
 There is, I know, a popular prejudice to the effect that the 
 stoppage of such a discharge is dangerous. Penning up foul 
 matters in the delicate middle ear may lead to distressing 
 headaches or even to brain-fever; but penning up such mat- 
 ters within the head is a very different thing from curing the 
 cause — which is what should be done, and as promptly as 
 possible; for the longer the delay the greater the difficulty in 
 curing what, if left to itself, will certainly prove a life-long 
 annoyance, if nothing more serious. 
 
 Finally, many a poor child gets a reputation for stupidity 
 when the real trouble is deafness ^^^^^ ,,. . ,..^^^r*^M 
 — not absolute deafness, but just I • -e^J^^S^S 
 enough dullness in hearing to ^^^fj^^^v^^ 
 make it slow to catch the teach- l^^^'yS^P^jL^f^ 
 er's exact words, and consequently | ^te^S^^^^/ : ^\ 
 miss his thought. The removal y^ "^ 
 
 of a little hardened wax will often : i. 
 
 transform the dullest pupil into a If 
 promising one, who would have 
 been misunderstood for years, un- 
 less some one had thought of u, 
 examining his ears. u/ /$/ 
 
 All our thoughts, impressions, '^ 
 
 delights, and Borrows, come, then, BeHcuIated end plate of nerve 
 . . fibers Klein 
 
 primarily from pressure upon tiny 
 
 nerve-twigs, such as are here represented. More than all 
 
210 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 else of our bodies they are the cause of our most exquisite 
 joys and sorest pain, for they are the grand inquisitors set 
 to reward and punish the knights templar of the body. 
 
 Thus far the body has been likened to a modern dwelling, 
 constructed with all possible conveniences, but it is more 
 than that. Truer psychology has never been reached than 
 that found in the words of the apostle Paul, selected as the 
 motto of this little book. The body was designed for more 
 than a mere dwelling; it is a temple as well, wherein should 
 dwell the knights templar — of the red cross and the white. 
 Of all the tales of the age of chivalry none is more poetic 
 than the story of the Knights Templar, a religious order 
 founded in the beginning of the twelfth century, by Hugues 
 de Paiens and other French knights. It originated at Jeru- 
 salem, and was designed to protect the holy sepulcher and 
 the pilgrims resorting thither. The members of the order 
 bound themselves to listen to the holy offices daily, and to 
 practice fasting four days in the week. They were known 
 as the Poor Soldiers of the Temple of Solomon, and at 
 first subsisted entirely upon the scanty benevolence of the 
 king of Jerusalem. Later, vast donations poured in upon 
 them, and members of the most noble families in Europe 
 thought themselves honored by being enrolled among the 
 Knights Templar, and being allowed to wear their red cross 
 upon their shoulders. 
 
 As elsewhere, the wealth and power of the Templars at 
 last wrought their destruction, for their luxury, vices, and 
 arrogance finally gave their enemies, Philippe IV., and Pope 
 Clement V., and Edward II., a pretext for seizing upon the 
 possessions of the Knights Templar and abolishing the 
 order. 
 
 Doubtless, they had outlived their day of usefulness, and 
 ceased to exist, as says another, because " they were rich and 
 had nothing to do. They were an anachronism and a source 
 of danger at the time of their dispersion," but they have 
 left us many things worthy of remembrance and imitation. 
 
 The great seal of the order, two knights mounted on a 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 211 
 
 single horse, is not an inapt symbol of the tripartite nature 
 of man — body, soul, and spirit. The beast well represents 
 the body — essential for the accomplishment of work, and, 
 when held in check, invaluable ; but, left unbridled, a v|ry 
 Mazeppa's steed to bear us to sure destruction. Hence the 
 body is governed by two masters, mind and spirit, which 
 some consider a sort of Siamese twins, but, whatever their 
 exact relationship, they are the rightful governors of the house 
 in which we live. We cannot live aright without their 
 mutual advice and aid. A body directed solely by the mind 
 becomes as polished a heathen as an educated Bramin, and one 
 led by spirit alone gives rise to the vagaries of a Joanna South- 
 cote. Per contra, John Wesley is an excellent illustration of 
 what symmetrical development may do for man. John Wes- 
 ley's spiritual insight was the marvel of his century and ours; 
 but it should also be remembered that intellectually he was 
 justly entitled to the fellowship which he received and held 
 for many years at Oxford, while his body was so carefully 
 cared for that we find him at eighty-four able to preach at 
 five o'clock in the morning, and personally to attend to the 
 annoying details of a church organization and publishing 
 interests that in these latter days require the services of a 
 board of bishops and a book committee to look after. 
 
 Such as John Wesley, in their measure, would all men be 
 if they cared alike for mind, spirit, and body. The ideal 
 man should be perfectly developed in all directions, for if 
 any part of man is neglected it becomes stunted and useless. 
 This we all know to be true in regard to mind and body, but 
 when it comes to spiritual growth we find it too often 
 neglected to its everlasting injury. " The soul that sinneth 
 it shall die " is as much a part of the laws of the universe as 
 the fiat that we must all die. We witness the death of the 
 body so often that the fact cannot be denied, but a similar re- 
 sult in regard to the soul's death can be as certainly demon- 
 strated. Our large cities are full of men and women whose 
 souls have been dead in trespasses and sins for many years. 
 There is no sadder sight on earth than a soul's corpse coffined 
 
212 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 in the bloated wreck of a body. Alcohol does this. It is 
 one of the arch Saracens against whom the body's knights 
 templar must wage incessant warfare, as well as other fleshly 
 lu^s which war against the soul. The culture of the mind 
 and spirit belong properly to psychology, except so far as 
 they influence the health of the body. And this they do in 
 no small degree. Just how this is done may be difficult to 
 explain without falling into materialism, but the fact remains 
 that soul and body are in this world mutually dependent one 
 upon another. A well-balanced mind is rarely found excejDt 
 in a sound body, and there is a whole volume of theology in 
 Mrs. Prentiss's candid statement that she never was in relis:- 
 ious gloom except when she had eaten something that did 
 not agree with her. No better, or more devoutly pious, 
 woman than the author of Stepping Heavenward ever lived, 
 but she was honest and clear-sighted enough to discover that 
 her " experience," not religion, was largely conditioned by her 
 body's health. Similarly, the health of the body is at its best 
 when the mind and spirit are happily employed. For phys- 
 iological reasons, if no other, a consistent, well-educated 
 Christian ought to be the happiest man living, if sound in 
 mind, body, and conscience, for he has learned how to use 
 all his " talents " to their best advantage, and has ceased 
 to take worry for the morrow. 
 
 " Worry," far more than overwork, is the cause of the fre- 
 quent ill health and the premature breaking down so common 
 in our large cities. The haste to be rich, debt, and anxiety 
 about money matters whiten more heads and wrinkle more 
 faces than disease. Any occupation which keeps one oscil- 
 lating between hope and despair inevitably disturbs the 
 innervation of tlie body so that digestion is ruined (see 
 nervous dyspepsia, page 83), and sleep becomes a lost art. 
 Little wonder, then, that under these circumstances the gen- 
 eral nutrition of the body fails, and the man or woman 
 breaks down, it is said, of overwork. Worry would have 
 been the true verdict, for, as well says the Saturday Review, 
 " A professor may labor at the search for the absolute for 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 213 
 
 fifteen hours a day and be all the better for it, while a third 
 of that time spent in the ups and downs of the stock ex- 
 change would qualify him in less than a year for the strait- 
 jacket or halter. . . . Complaints of overwork are among 
 the flimsiest of all excuses set up by men for the evils they 
 have brought upon themselves. Very few people really 
 work hard, and when they do it generally agrees with them. 
 Directly and indirectly, idleness does fifty times as much 
 mischief as overwork. A vast amount of good pity is thrown 
 away in the world, for when the danger really exists it may 
 generally be remedied rather by redistributing the burden than 
 by diminishing it." In short, the danger in overwork is gen- 
 erally not in the amount of work, but in bad habits of work. 
 Hurried work, work at the wrong time, and, more than both, 
 worry over the future bring men to untimely disability in 
 the ways already mentioned. 
 
 The remedy for these evils may be found in systematized 
 work, in " do the best and leave the rest," and, most of all, 
 in the biblical advice to take no thought (worry) as to what 
 we shall eat, drink, and wherewithal we shall be clothed ; 
 not the least important of which is the last, for the desire to 
 follow the fashions in clothing drives more into debt than 
 all other causes, and debt means, except to the absolutely un- 
 principled, distressing mental worry and strain. Debts are 
 the most frequent causes of insanity and suicide, for nothing 
 more surely upsets the whole mental balance than long-con- 
 tinued and pressing debt. A mortgage, etymologically, means 
 a death-grip, and too often it is literally that as well, from 
 the effect that it exerts upon the health of the body by 
 depriving it of hope, rest, and cheerfulness. 
 
 How it is that the mind is able to affect the nutrition and 
 health of the body we do not know, but the facts are beyond 
 all dispute in many cases. Indeed, it is often possible for a 
 man to be seriously injured during the excitement of battle, 
 and pay no heed to it until after. Mr. J. B. Gough perma- 
 nently injured his hand during a lecture, but did not dis- 
 cover the fact until the close of his speaking. Such cases 
 
2 14 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 are but those of deferred or diverted attention, for no sooner 
 i^ the excitement removed than the pain is felt. The 
 same, in a measure, is undoubtedly true of the religious en- 
 thusiasts of the East who prostrate themselves upon the 
 ground to allow themselves to be ridden over, or thrust sharp 
 skewers into their cheeks and red-hot nails into their palms 
 apparently without pain. The history of all people is full 
 of instances where religious excitement and the contagion 
 of example have rendered enthusiasts for the time being in- 
 sensible to ordinary suffering. The priests of Baal cut 
 themselves with sharp stones in the frenzy of their false 
 religion, as the flagellants scourged themselves in the Middle 
 Ages. Similar performances may be seen at Mecca, and at 
 some of the East Indian religious festivals; for, in all great 
 gatherings of people little accustomed to self-control, excite- 
 ment and the imitative faculty lead to strange actions. The 
 same cause that induces others to gape by the suggestion of 
 our yawning produces many a strange antic in those not able 
 to keep the mastery over themselves. To this impulse the 
 name of suggestion has been given, and to its operations we 
 probably owe the phenomena of mesmerism, hypnotism, and 
 the marvels of so-called clairvoyance and mind-reading. 
 
 Mesmerism, so named from a Dr. Mesmer, who first inves- 
 tigated the subject, was the term originally used for the hyp- 
 notic condition, or a state of apparent sleep in which the will of 
 the one mesmerized is to all intents and purposes put into the 
 hands of the one producing the hypnotism. Thus hypnotized 
 the victim will sing, cry, dance, preach, or pray, as the mes- 
 merist wishes, until the spell is broken. Fortunately, not all 
 can be thus hypnotized, and probably none can be made 
 susceptible against their will. The mental mechanism of 
 hypnotism has never been definitely determined, but it seems 
 reasonable to believe that it is a condition of affairs in which 
 the will is held in abeyance and the brain left to act solely 
 by suggested thoughts. Imagine, if you please, a ship with 
 its helmsman drugged but still able to stand at the wheel and 
 automatically to do the bidding of some one who stands be- 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 215 
 
 hind him, and you have a fair comparison to illustrate this 
 hypnotic condition. It is useless and harmful, for it has never 
 been productive of any valuable results, and tends to weaken 
 already impaired will-power, and might be utilized for actual 
 crime. Experimentation in this line should be strongly dis- 
 couraged, for it can bring out no new facts and may inflict 
 serious injury — moral, if not physical. 
 
 Clairvoyance, beyond a doubt, is another manifestation 
 of this same impulse, for, behind all the arrant fraud of the 
 majority of the so-called clairvoyants, there is a power pos- 
 sessed by some of following most ingeniously the suggested 
 thoughts of the questioner — only that and nothing more. 
 A careful study of their most wonderful exploits will show, 
 so far as the writer has been able to inform himself, only re- 
 productions of thoughts or facts known to the one seeking the 
 clairvoyant's aid. Many of these thoughts may be but dimly 
 remembered, but if false, or falsely recalled, the clairvoyant 
 falls into the same mistake. 
 
 Catherine Beecher years ago carefully investigated the 
 subject, and her results are the same as those obtained by 
 all candid investigators. We quote her experience in her 
 own words: 
 
 " Early in December, 1844, having heard, through most re- 
 liable persons, of the performances of a clairvoyant woman 
 in Boston, I wrote to my family friends in various States, 
 east and west, that I should go to that city on the 23d day 
 of that month, and visit this woman between the hours of 9 
 and 12 A. M.; and I requested them all to note down what 
 they were doing at that time, and also to write a sentence and 
 lav it on the mantel-shelf of their sitting-rooms. 
 
 " I went on that day, no person in the city knowing that I 
 was to be there. I went from the cars to this woman, whom 
 I had never seen. None of her family knew me or I them, 
 and I did not give my name. She was put in the clairvoyant 
 state, and then I was left alone with her." 
 
 Without giving in detail Miss Heecher's conversation with 
 the clairvoyant, which may be found in her Letters to the 
 
216 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 People on Health and Happiness, it is sufficient to say that 
 the clairvoyant described correctly every minute particular 
 concerning certain houses and their occupants in Hartford 
 with which Miss Beecher was acquainted, but entirely failed 
 in a crucial test thus proposed by Miss Beecher: 
 
 " I then asked her to look on the mantel-shelf below, and see 
 if there was a paper with writing on it. She then continued 
 thus: 'There is some writing pinned to the wall over the 
 mantel. It is too small. It ought to be written larger. You 
 told them to do this. The first words are: " The babt/s name 
 is — " I cannot read it, it is too small.' 
 
 " ''Try /' said I, with greatly excited interest. She grasped 
 her hands tightly together, and shook all over, as if making 
 a great effort. Then she said, ' Yes, I see it. It is written, 
 " The baby's name is George." ' 
 
 " Now every minute particular as to the people, house, and 
 furniture corresponded with my past experience. But this 
 matter about the writing was all concocted by herself from 
 materials in my past knowledge. For the baby's name was 
 not George, and there was no paper prepared as I had re- 
 quested. Nor was I conscious of thinking that the child, if 
 a boy, would be called George after the child that was dead. 
 Indeed, I should not have supposed that this would be the 
 ca>e." 
 
 Such mental echoes add nothing to the sum of human 
 knowledge, and are dangerous from their opportunity to fraud, 
 as has been over and over again proven. There may be 
 honest clairvoyants and spirit-rappers, but their feats are per- 
 formed under surroundings better adapted for fraud than any 
 professional magician would ask. Many of the tricks of these 
 so-called mediums are startling, but they have all been dupli- 
 cated and excelled by those who make no pretense of any 
 higher powers than sleight of hand. 
 
 Dreams are less explicable than the clairvoyant's feats. 
 The latter, deprived of the gross amount of fraud mixed 
 with the larger part of them, are, when any thing more 
 than fraud, the interpretation of another's thoughts into the 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 217 
 
 medium's words. Hence it is that the hypochondriac is sure 
 to find " the seventh son of a seventh son " agreeing with 
 him in his own ideas of his ailments, even if unexpressed. 
 Those that agree with us we are ready to adjudge wise, and 
 hence the number of victims who fall ready prey to these. 
 But whence come the suggestions from which originate dreams, 
 and why do we dream at all ? Sleep has been defined by 
 some one as the victory of the sympathetic over the cerebro- 
 spinal system. Less technically, it may be said to be brain 
 and body rest, produced most probably by a periodic lessen- 
 ing of the supply of blood sent to the brain. Eating a 
 hearty meal attracts the blood from the brain to assist in 
 digestion, and hence the drowsiness that comes to many after 
 a full meal. Perfect sleep is "sore labor's bath, balm of hurt 
 minds, chief nourisher in life's feast," and should be dream- 
 less, or that from which we awake without remembrance of 
 having dreamed. Thought, memory, and conscience ought 
 all to slumber when sleep " knits up the raveled sleeve of 
 care," but too often mind and spirit labor too, while the 
 wearied body is trying to sleep and we dream. 
 
 Dreaming is, then, involuntary mental action, while the 
 body is cut off from its ordinary avenues of sensation. So 
 we often say and think, and yet it is more frequently true 
 than we think that dreams are bodily sensations misinter- 
 preted by the dazed and bewildered brain. For instance, 
 Dr. O. W. Holmes says: " I once inhaled a pretty full dose 
 of ether with the determination to put on record at the 
 earliest moment of regaining consciousness the thought I 
 should find uppermost in my mind. . . . The veil of eter- 
 nity was lifted. The one great truth which underlies all 
 human experience, and is the key to all the mysteries which 
 philosophy has sought in vain to solve, flashed upon me in a 
 sudden revelation, . . . and staggering to my desk I wrote 
 in ill-shaped, straggling characters the all-embracing truth 
 still glimmering in my consciousness. The words were these 
 (children may smile; the wise will ponder): * A strong smell 
 of turpentine prevails throughout.'" 
 10 
 
218 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 And why should not both children and wise men smile ? for 
 the witty doctor had scribbled his ludicrous sentence while he 
 was but half awakened from a grandiloquent dream, produced 
 by the pungent odor of the ether. Thought works with almost 
 inconceivable rapidity in the case of these suggested dreams. 
 The report of a gun may between the time of its sound and 
 the awakening of the dreamer give rise to a three volume 
 novel in the mind of the sleeper. It is almost incredible 
 what a multitude of ideas may under certain circumstances 
 follow each other with surprising celerity. What books we 
 have written, what orations delivered and dramas enacted in 
 our minds, while we are vainly trying to grasp the idea 
 that it is time to get up, or shivering from an exposed limb, 
 or uncomfortable from dining not wisely, but too well. The 
 last is extremely prone to produce unpleasant dreams — night- 
 mares, so-called, though why it is hard to say — from the an- 
 noyance of the undigestible food, mistaken, perhaps, by the 
 half-awakened brain for the prince of darkness sitting 
 astride the dreamer. Eating a light meal just before retiring 
 does not interfere with sleep, provided the food is such that 
 it is easily digested ; for, as has already been said, normal diges- 
 tion aids sleep, and a late meal is the best treatment for the 
 insomnia of night and brain workers. 
 
 Not a little valuable literary work has been done in 
 sleep. Coleridge's Kubla Khan was thus written, as was 
 Tartini's DeviiVs Sonata. One of Lord Thurlow's best Latin 
 compositions was thus dreamed out and Cordorcet and Frank- 
 lin — hapnjmen! — were said to have been able to work out 
 elaborate mathematical calculations after the same fashion. 
 In these cases, as in the mathematical prodigies which are 
 occasionally met with, the brain undoubtedly acts automat- 
 ically, like one of the patent automatic adding machines. In 
 the innumerable multitude of dreams it would be strange if 
 some of them did not occasionally come true, and probably 
 every one has had such coincidences in his own experience. 
 History is full of notable examples, as the famous one of the 
 Prince of Conde, who dreamed just before the battle of 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 219 
 
 Dreux that he engaged in three battles, in which he was suc- 
 cessively victorious, and that his victories would cost his 
 enemies their three chief officers ; and that after these victo- 
 ries he himself should be slain ; all of which was afterward 
 realized exactly as dreamed. There is a copious literature on 
 such realization of dreams, and of the appearance of those 
 dead, about the time of their death, to dreaming friends, 
 whose discussion belongs to psychology rather than physiol- 
 ogy, and must be here dismissed with the thought that there 
 may be " more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed 
 of in our philosophy." 
 
 The explanation of somnambulism is less difficult, for 
 sleep-walking is a sort of intermediate station between 
 hypnotism and dreaming. It differs from the first in that 
 the actions performed are voluntary with the one perform- 
 ing them, and differs from dreaming in that the acts are 
 actually done, and not merely willed, as is the case in dream- 
 ing. In the latter we have the combined action of the will 
 and the imagination only, while in somnambulism we have the 
 assistance of the voluntary muscles as well. The sleep-walker 
 usually has absolutely no remembrance of what he has done; 
 occasionally he will remember his performances as those of 
 an unusually distinct dream, unless he is suddenly awakened 
 in the midst of his actions, when he generally is unable to 
 give any rational account of himself. Some of the exploits 
 of somnambulists are so extraordinary that they can hardly be 
 explained— except upon the theory of a sixth sense, which 
 takes cognizance of form and distance without sight. How 
 otherwise, for instance, can be explained their perilous night 
 walks with safety along the ridge of a roof where one could 
 scarcely venture with his eyes wide open ? More remarkable 
 are the apparently well authenticated cases of letters written, 
 pictures drawn, and needle-work done accurately in the 
 dark by somnambulists, who for the time were like the 
 idols of Scripture, in that having eyes they see not, in the or- 
 dinary acceptation of the term, and yet are able to work as- 
 if they were blessed with the keenest of sight. 
 
220 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 Another strange mental freak is that of dual existence, so 
 called, in which the person thus afflicted leads a double ex- 
 istence for a part of the day or week, being entirely uncon- 
 scious of what was done in the other half of his existence, 
 but able to take up the change of thought and work with the 
 passage from one condition to another. Such cases, fort- 
 unately, are rare, and, if explicable at all by physiology, are 
 explained by an independent action of the two halves of the 
 brain. 
 
 Possibly these are simple cases of intermittent memory, 
 from whose lapses we all suffer. It is doubtful if we ever 
 forget entirely any thing which we ever thoroughly knew, 
 but men differ greatly in their ability to recall desired infor- 
 mation. Often the harder we try the less successful we are in 
 our efforts, so that often the best way in which to accomplish 
 our end is to allow the brain automatically to work out the 
 problem for us. Napoleon said that his mind was a case of 
 drawers, of which he could pull out or shut up any one as he 
 desired; but the mental chiffoniers of many men have become 
 wedged from disuse. Fortunately, the brain will coax open 
 these refractoiy drawers if we will but give it time. Quietly, 
 and unconsciously to ourselves, the lock is at last turned, and 
 the desired fact lies open to our scrutiny. Such seems to 
 have been the process by which Sir William Hamilton discov- 
 ered the relation of quaternions. " I was walking," says 
 he, "on the 15th of October, 1843, with Lady Hamilton, 
 when on reaching Brougham Bridge I felt the galvanic circle 
 of thought close, and the sparks that fell from it were the 
 fundamental relations between i, j, and k." This is done by 
 unconscious cerebration, begotten of repeated practice. 
 
 The great value of all education lies in the fact that we can 
 at last do with facility what at first was difficult and painful. 
 The school-girl laboriously fingering " Days of Absence " 
 may, if she please, learn to play almost unconsciously most dif- 
 ficult music and keep her mind fixed upon other subjects at the 
 same time. So it is with knitting, type-setting, stenography, 
 or any pursuit which requires manual dexterity; and the 
 
Telegkaphs and Phones. 221 
 
 same in a measure is true of intellectual work, in which 
 practice is all important. Anthony Trollope's financial success 
 as a novelist was due to his invariable practice of writing 
 daily twenty-five hundred words of a projected story, no 
 matter where or what his surroundings were. This he did in 
 the midst of a busy official life, which many another man 
 would have thought more than sufficient for his waking 
 hours. Thackeray, with far more genius, was always in the 
 drag with his writings and finances, simply because he had 
 never learned Trollope's habits of literary thrift. 
 
 " Habit is second nature, and man is a bundle of habits." 
 Habits of some kind we must have; all have some more or 
 less useless and ludicrous. Schiller thought he could not 
 write well unless he had the odor of rotten apples in his 
 room. Dr. Johnson must touch each lamp-post as he swayed 
 along the streets of London, and — but who is there who 
 has not some odd trick of gesture or manner that he carries 
 with him through life ? The vast majority of these habits 
 are formed between twenty and thirty, or, as Lord Colling- 
 wood put it, " Before you are five-and-twenty you must 
 establish a character that will serve you all your life ; " for 
 fortunately good habits become as strongly fixed as evil ones, 
 of which we hear vastly more. " Habits are a necklace of 
 pearls," says the Russian proverb, and such' they are if they 
 are habits of self-respect, self-help, industry, integrity, and 
 decision. There is, says the Popular Science Monthly, " no 
 more miserable being than one in whom nothing is habitual 
 but indecision, and for whom the drinking of every cup, the 
 time of rising and going to bed, and the beginning of every 
 bit of work are subjects of express volitional deliberation. 
 Full half the time of such a man goes to the deciding or re- 
 gretting of affairs which ought to have been so thoroughly 
 ingrained in him as practically not to exist for his conscious- 
 at all." 
 
 The great thing, then, in all education, is to make auto- 
 matic and habitual as early as possible as many useful 
 actions as we can. The more of the details of our daily 
 
222 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 life we can hand over to the infallible and effortless custody 
 of automatism the more our higher powers of mind will 
 be set free for their own proper work." Habits, if good, are 
 conservative and helpful even though they may seem ludicrous 
 to others with their different ways of thinking and doing. 
 Bad habits degrade by destroying little by little self-respect, 
 until at last their victim is bound in chains that he finds him- 
 self unable to break, for habit has wound itself about him 
 until it has become an integral part of himself. 
 
 The comfort or wretchedness of our residence in this house 
 in which we live turns largely upon our habits — personal, 
 mental, and moral. If they are those of Peter the First, the 
 man is an animal — that is all. His stable may be decorated 
 with all that the wealth of the Russias can buy, but after all it 
 is a stable, and no amount of whitewash or outside gilding 
 can make it any thing else. Nor is the body designed merely 
 for a literary work-shop. A library is a more enjoyable spot 
 than a menagerie, but the body was given to us for other 
 purposes than mere culture. Culture is better than barbar- 
 ism, but culture is not God, and men and women were born 
 to worship God, not culture. The only satisfactory explana- 
 tion of the body is that given by St. Paul, already quoted ; 
 namely, " Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and 
 that the spirit of God dwelleth in you. If any man defile the 
 temple of God, him shall God destroy, for the temple of God 
 is holy, which temple ye are." 
 
 Science and revelation join hands over this declaration of 
 the apostle. The body is too magnificent a piece of work- 
 manship to lodge an animal. It is fit to be the temple of its 
 maker. It ought to be, or it misses pitifully the end for 
 which it was built, and with the failure comes the penalty. 
 Whatever science may fail to corroborate in the way of rev- 
 elation, it is not at the point of penalty. " Whatsoever a 
 man soweth, that shall he also reap," is the emphatic teaching 
 of science, and nowhere is this more pitilessly true than in 
 regard to certain sins against the body. It is literally true 
 that such sins bring certain destruction to those who thus de- 
 
Telegraphs and Phones. 223 
 
 file the temple of God. It would be far pleasanter to pass 
 such by without mention, but their frequency forbids. Bad 
 men and women, and worse pictures and books, abound for the 
 avowed purpose of defiling the temple of God with worse 
 than Pompeiian frescoes; and the time has come when it is no 
 longer right to keep silence on temptation* which menace 
 even the school-boys and girls of this country. The evil can- 
 not be met too early, nor too fiercely. Its aims are diabolical, 
 and its results are such as to make the angels weep. The 
 large majority of fallen men and women go astray before 
 they are fourteen. Ignorance is not safety, for the only 
 way in which this evil can be met is by conjoined effort — 
 mothers with daughters, and every brave, pure man and 
 boy in the White Cross League. The Knights of the Red 
 Cross fought to save from desecration the holy sepulcher; 
 the aim of the Knights of the White Cross of to-day is 
 to save from defilement the "temple of God, . . . which 
 temple ye are." 
 
 There is a touching little story in medieval Latin of a sick 
 pauper who came to the operating room of a renowned surgeon 
 of those days. The great man, who thought he could not waste 
 his time on so poor a patient, turning to his assistant said, 
 "Experiment on this vile body;" whereat the poor wretch — 
 for it was before the days of anaesthetics — pleaded, " No body 
 is vile for which Christ was not ashamed to die." " Corpus 
 7ion tarn vile pro quo Christus ipse non dedlgnatus est more" 
 might be well chosen for the motto of the modern White 
 Cross Knights, who already number many thousand, although 
 their organization dates back only a very few years. The 
 disappearance of the knights of the age of chivalry has left 
 a need of like self-sacrifice and devotion by some similar 
 brotherhood. This the White Cross Knights promise to fill, 
 making, if possible, social purity as binding upon man as 
 woman. The White Cross obligations, as may !)<• seen, are 
 few and simple, and all true men and women should bid 
 them Godspeed in their efforts to make the world better and 
 purer. 
 
224 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 White Cross Obligations. 
 
 My strength is as the strength of ten, 
 Because my heart is pure. 
 
 " I promise to treat all women with respect, and to 
 endeavor to protect them from wrong and degradation. 
 
 " I promise to endeavor to put down all indecent language 
 and coarse jests. 
 
 " I promise to maintain the law of purity as equally bind- 
 ing upon men and women. 
 
 " I promise to endeavor to spread these principles among 
 my companions, and try to help my younger brothers." 
 
Moth, Rust, and Microbes. 225 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MOTH, RUST, AND MICROBES. 
 
 It must not be forgotten, in our study of the human body, 
 that it is a chemical compound as well as a complex piece of 
 machinery; or, rather, the organs and parts of a human body, 
 like every thing else material, are composed of molecules 
 and subject to the laws which govern them. And what are 
 these molecules ? The word means literally a little mass, 
 but is used in chemistry and physics with the more exact 
 meaning of a little mass composed of two or more atoms. 
 " A molecule," says Tidy, " is the smallest possible cluster 
 of atoms existing as a compound and capable of having 
 an independent chemical action." The molecules are then, ac- 
 cording to these definitions, composed of atoms, and this 
 leads us naturally to inquire in what atoms differ from 
 molecules. The name will help us to an answer. Atom is 
 from the Greek, and means uncutable. The atom is then 
 the uncutable or indivisible part of the molecule, for it is 
 at least possible to think of dividing matter until its further 
 division becomes in thought impossible. The results of the last 
 divisions of all matter are what are called atoms. One miorht 
 think, from the infinite variety of matter with which we are 
 acquainted, that there would be an infinite variety of atoms, but 
 chemists believe that there are as yet not more than seventy 
 different kinds of atoms known, although these are found 
 linked together in an almost infinite number of molecules. 
 In the molecule the atoms are supposed to be held together 
 by chemical affinity, and the molecules are influenced by 
 other forces. These molecules, or tiny groups of atoms, 
 even in the firmest stone, are supposed never to be abso- 
 lutely quiet, but are swaying to and fro with a motion 
 10* 
 
226 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 varying in rapidity with their attraction or repulsion to- 
 ward each other. If this attraction is strong, they constitute 
 a solid in which they can be lifted together in mass ; if their 
 attraction is less, but still such that they have a certain 
 amount of cohesion, the molecules then form a liquid ; but if 
 there is absolutely no attraction between the molecules, but 
 repulsion, they constitute a gas. Heat is supposed to increase 
 the repulsive powers of molecules, and hence heat will trans- 
 form a liquid into a gas, as we do whenever we boil the 
 water in the kettle. Cold acts in an exactly contrary way, 
 for cold drives the molecules nearer together, and thus trans- 
 forms liquid water to solid ice. 
 
 The solids, liquids, and gases of the body are subject to 
 the same laws of physics and chemistry as matter elsewhere, 
 with the single exception of that strange thing we call 
 germinal or living matter. This may be killed by heat, 
 strong acids, alcohol, and a variety of other agents, but then 
 it becomes dead matter and subject to the laws of dead 
 matter. So long as it lives it is vital, and resists the forces 
 and powers which incessantly assail it. The wonder, then, 
 is not that we die, but that we are able to live, beset, as 
 we are, within and without, with foes begotten of our 
 own bodies. Resurrection, Hume claimed, is too great a 
 miracle to be believed on any amount of testimony; but 
 modern science declares that life is more marvelous than 
 resurrection, for the power requisite to set the perfectly pre- 
 pared machinery to running again is feeble compared with 
 the intelligent foresight necessary to protect it from the 
 ceaseless assaults of invisible foes. Man is in exactly this 
 condition, constantly beset by an innumerable army of mol- 
 ecules and microbes, which no man can see, but which are 
 none the less persistent in their onslaught, until at last the 
 vital tissues give up the unequal contest and die, as did 
 Arnold of Winkelreid. This defeat we call death ; and we 
 should discriminate, as Huxley has done, between the forms 
 of death met in the body. There is : 
 
 1. "Local death, which is going on at every moment 
 
Moth, Rust, and Microbes. 227 
 
 and in most, if not in all, parts of the living body. 
 Individual cells of the epidermis and of the epithelium are 
 incessantly dying and being cast off to be replaced by others, 
 which are as constantly coming into separate existence. 
 The like is true of blood corpuscles, and probably of many 
 other elements of the tissues. 
 
 " This form of local death is insensible to ourselves, and is 
 essential to the due maintenance of life. But, occasional])-, 
 local death occurs on a larger scale, as the result of injury, 
 or as the consequence of disease. A burn, for example, may 
 suddenly kill more or less of the skin ; or part of the tissue's 
 of the skin may die, as in the case of the slough which lies 
 in the midst of a boil ; or a whole limb may die, and exhibit 
 the strange phenomena of mortification. 
 
 " The local death of some tissues is followed by their re- 
 generation. Not only all the forms of epidermis and epi- 
 thelium, but nerve, connective tissue, bone, and, at any rate, 
 some muscles, may be thus reproduced, even on a large scale. 
 Cartilage once destroyed is not restored. 
 
 2. " General death is of two kinds : death of the body as 
 a ichole, and death of the tissues. By the former term is 
 implied the absolute cessation of the functions of the brain, 
 of the circulatory and of the respiratory organs ; by the 
 latter, the entire disappearance of the vital actions of the 
 ultimate structural constituents of the body. When death 
 takes place, the body, as a whole, dies first, the death of the 
 tissues sometimes not occurring until after a considerable 
 interval. (See page 47.) 
 
 " Hence it is that, for some little time after what is ordi- 
 narily called death, the muscles of an executed criminal may 
 be made to contract by the application of proper stimuli. 
 The muscles are not dead, though the man is." 
 
 Local death is generally painful, for its efforts are con- 
 sc -rvative and look toward the repair of the injured part. 
 General death, as a rule, is painless at the last, for here as 
 elsewhere nature is merciful as well as just, and does the 
 kindliest thing possible for our best good. Mr. Beecher, 
 
228 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 when asked how he expected to feel when he came to die, 
 answered, more truthfully than piously, " Stupid." And 
 it is to this merciful state, whatever may be the apparent 
 agony of the last moments of dissolution, that we at last 
 all come. 
 
 General death comes in one of three ways, says Bichat ; 
 either death beginning at the heart, death beginning at the 
 lungs, or death beginning at the head. The last is in 
 reality death from failure of circulation or respiration, or 
 both, from injury to the centers located in the brain. In all 
 such cases there is failure, due either to the heart or lungs, 
 to properly aerate the blood. Failure to obtain sufficient 
 oxygen results in an undue accumulation of carbon dioxide 
 in the blood, and carbon dioxide is as truly an anaesthetic, in 
 poisonous quantities, as is chloroform. The poison may pro- 
 duce convulsive movements most painful to witness, but their 
 presence is conclusive proof that the dying man is already 
 narcotized beyond pain. The " king of terrors " is most 
 frightful to those who walk through the " valley of the 
 shadow of death," but at last his arms are as tender and 
 soothing as a mother hushing her tired child to sleep. The 
 moral questions which may have been left unanswered until 
 death may prove the source of the most torturing anguish, 
 but at last there comes merciful oblivion. One with many 
 opportunities for observation on this subject says : 
 
 " I have talked with persons who have been poisoned, or 
 who have poisoned themselves, and who may be said to have 
 died, inasmuch as they have fully decided and expected to 
 die. They very rarely suffered in body or mind, and they 
 lost their senses as gradually as when laying their head upon 
 the pillow at night. Whatever pain they had was not in going 
 from but in coming back to life, which would make it seem 
 that the arrowheads, directing to death, wound only those 
 anxious to return. We have on record the ante-mortem 
 diaries of men who, having swallowed poison with the delib- 
 erate purpose of suicide, had wished to leave a record of the 
 effect upon themselves of the conscious approach of death. 
 
Moth, Rust, and Microbes. 229 
 
 Most of these diaries show the surprise of the writers at the 
 total absence of the awe or fear commonly believed to be in- 
 separable from such circumstances. Doubtless the deter- 
 mination of self-extinction had absorbed the anticipated 
 strangeness, and discounted the impressiveness and solemnity 
 of the mortal occasion. It is natural to die, but hardly nat- 
 ural to desire to die. To will to die is all there is of death. 
 To be killed outright by a gun-shot wound must certainly be 
 easy. I have seen so many men slain in battle that I am 
 sure of this. I have narrowly watched officers struck when 
 leading a charge. Their faces evinced startled surprise, not 
 anguish, and their nervous system received such a shock that, 
 before sensation could rally, they had ceased to breathe. 
 To say that a man suddenly put out of life by violence does 
 not know what hurts him is exactly true. He is dead with- 
 out thought of death, and therefore spared all mental appre- 
 hension, which is the worst part of dying. Abrupt death by 
 external agencies must be very analogous to the shock from 
 a Leyden jar." 
 
 Nor is death an exception to the general law that pain is 
 conservative. Pain is the alarm given us whenever the foes 
 of the body are assaulting it with dangerous intent. It is the 
 signal that the line of battle is giving way somewhere, un- 
 der the combined pressure of earth, air, fire, and water ; for 
 against all these man must incessantly fight. Hunger, fatigue, 
 cold, and thirst are points at which these enemies crowd the 
 closest, and where, if relief is not quickly brought, defeat is 
 certain. Hunger is the irrepressible clamor for the fruits of 
 the earth, which must be wrested from it at the point of the 
 spade, hoe, and the knife, or we die. Fatigue is the 
 inevitable result of the attraction of gravitation, that is, the 
 ever-present weight of our bodies, conjoined to the atmos- 
 pheric pressure of fifteen pounds to each square inch of its 
 surface. So accurately is this adjusted we never notice its 
 pitiless persistence until the wearied limbs at last succumb. 
 Fire is at the same time man's best friend and most inexora- 
 ble creditor. Fire is essential to civilization, but civiliza- 
 
230 Physiology and Hygiexe. 
 
 tion demands its pound of flesh for every forfeited bond, 
 and these are many, for modern society demands that man 
 shall give many a pledge to fortune. Even water, without 
 whose aid we must perish in a few short hours, may serve, as 
 we have seen (page 70), to introduce within the camp the 
 most treacherous of enemies. Gravitation, oxidation, and pois- 
 oning from within and without are some of the foes against 
 which this warfare must constantly be waged. To these 
 must be added another, and, until recently, an unsuspected, 
 foe of man — the microbes ; a barbarous sort of Greek word, 
 invented to name forms of life too minute to be seen except 
 by means of the microscope. The part that these tiny be- 
 ings play in fermentation, decomposition, and disease was 
 little dreamed of fifty years ago. Within that time these 
 tiny points, less in size as a rule than the red blood corpuscle, 
 have revolutionized all our ideas and theories in regard to 
 putrefaction and practical hygiene, and bid fair to do the 
 same in the domain of practical medicine. 
 
 The causes of the decomposition of the human body after 
 death were vainly sought for by the ancient philosophers 
 and physicists, of whom none came nearer the truth than 
 Van Helmont, who attributed it to the loss of Varcliee, or, as 
 we now call it, vital force. He was also the first to appre- 
 ciate the relation between the air and putrefaction, for an 
 organic body, entirely preserved from contact with the air, 
 under proper precautions, can be preserved indefinitely. 
 These facts were apparently well known to the Egyptians, 
 and utilized by them in the preparation of their mummies, 
 and also by the Ethiopians, if we can believe Herodotus's tales 
 in reference to the preservation of their dead in glass. Un- 
 der ordinary circumstances exposure of a body to light, air, 
 and moisture accomplishes the dissolution of its soft parts 
 entirely in from two to three years, and in so far as air is 
 excluded is the process delayed. This was strikingly shown 
 in the bodies of the Etruscan kings found some years ago in 
 their sepulchers, where they had been preserved, protected 
 from the atmosphere, unchanged for hundreds of years ; but 
 
Moth, Rust, and Microbes. 231 
 
 no sooner was air admitted than these bodies began to crum- 
 ble, and in a few hours were converted into unrecognizable 
 dust. The same principle was applied to the preservation of 
 food by the Romans, for canned fruit has been found in 
 Pompeii, but its secret was forgotten until a little more than 
 a hundred years ago, when Benjamin Appert demonstrated 
 that meat sealed in air-tight boxes, after being heated 
 so as to expel the air, would keep for an indefinite length 
 of time at ordinary temperatures. On this depends the 
 modern extensive use of canned meats, for it is well known 
 that, after having been heated and sealed up in air-tight 
 cans, and thus protected from the atmosphere, meats will 
 remain sweet and fresh as long as the receptacle remains 
 air-tight. For many years it was supposed that the oxygen 
 of the air was the sole cause of the spoiling of meats and 
 fruits ; but it must be remembered that the oxygen of 
 the air is not the sole cause of putrefaction, for it has been 
 over and over again proven that, while air is apparently nec- 
 essary to begin decomposition, it is not essential to its con- 
 tinuance after it has once begun; and hence the failure of 
 hermetically sealed coffins to prevent decomposition. The 
 explanation of this is found in the fact that putrefaction 
 largely depends upon microscopic microbes and germs con- 
 stantly floating in the atmosphere, whose growth and multi- 
 plication take place whenever they are deposited by the air 
 in an appropriate soil or fluid, among the best of which are 
 the fluids of the body. With a good microscope (1,200 
 diameters) multitudes of microbes may be found in the mucus 
 which can be scraped from the inside of the cheeks or lips, 
 as spherical or oval particles with multitudes of delicate 
 filaments. The numbers and rapidity of multiplication of 
 these bacteria with proper food is almost incredible, for 
 Cohn has shown that bacterial reduplication can arise in 
 the course of about an hour. At this rate a single bacte- 
 rium would produce two in one hour, these by doubling 
 would increase to four in the second hour, and so on until 
 in the lapse of three days the scarcely conceivable figure of 
 
232 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 4,772,000,000,000 would be attained. Whence do they come ? 
 Formerly it was believed by spontaneous generation from 
 decaying matter, for the ancients entertained the wildest 
 ideas in regard to the origin of life. Virgil believed that 
 bees were produced from entrails, and Lepidus that mud 
 and heat would generate crocodiles. For a long time it was 
 believed that certain birds grew upon trees, and that the 
 flesh of a duck could give birth to an owl. Similarly, ser- 
 pents were supposed to originate from the spinal cord, and 
 mice to be spontaneously begotten by sawdust and old 
 rags. Even in our own times there are many intelligent 
 people who believe that a horsehair left in the waters of a 
 brook will be transformed into the thread-like worm that 
 bears its name, and that maggots are spontaneously gener- 
 ated in decaying meat, although two hundred and twenty 
 years ago Francesco Redi settled the question definitely. 
 Like others, he had seen the maggots begotten in putrefying 
 flesh, but unlike many others he observed that flies invariably 
 were found also about the meat, and that they frequently 
 alighted upon it. Surmising that there was some causal 
 relation between these flies and the maggots, he covered 
 meat with paper, and afterward with fine gauze, and found 
 that no maggots were developed — naturally enough, for it 
 is well known to-day that maggots are the half-developed 
 progeny of flies. 
 
 These facts were soon overshadowed by the greater dis- 
 coveries of Leeuwenhock, a Dutch microscropist, who discov- 
 ered the yeast plant and certain animalculae, as he called 
 them. He was also the first to understand that the turbid- 
 ity which occurs in animal and vegetable infusions was due 
 to the growth of these minute forms of life, about which 
 immediately sprang up most vehement controversies. These 
 at first were mainly about fermentation, for although the yeast 
 plant was discovered and figured by Leeuwenhock as early 
 as 1680, yet its true nature was not definitely understood 
 until it was rediscovered and explained in 1836 by Cagniard 
 de la Tour. 
 
Moth, Rust, and Microbes. 233 
 
 Lavoisier and other chemists had previously studied atten- 
 tively beer -yeast, or the plant which produces alcoholic 
 fermentation ; but it was reserved for Cagniard de la Tour 
 to demonstrate its real nature. He proved that yeast is 
 composed of granules of albuminous matter, which, when 
 introduced into a saccharine fluid, there grows and repro- 
 duces itself. This is done by gemmation, as it is called, 
 that is, by the growth of buds on the surface of the yeast 
 plant. These again bud, and in turn produce new yeast 
 plants. Yeast ferment is living, since the plants multiply 
 themselves, and absorb oxygen, give off carbon dioxide, and 
 produce alcohol from the sugar during the process. De la 
 Tour furthermore proved that if the saccharine fluid does 
 not contain albuminous matter fermentation still takes place, 
 but the yeast plant exhausts itself in the process, and none 
 remains to begin it anew elsewhere. The next question 
 was, Whence came this yeast plant? for fermentation 
 takes place in grape-juice whether the yeast plant be added 
 to it or not. 
 
 Becker much earlier had taught that a dead body attracts 
 microscopic eggs from the air, and that these were the cause 
 of its decomposition. These theories and that of an astral fire 
 and the balsamic spirit of the blood, which resisted putrefac- 
 tion in the living body, were considered the wild dreams of a 
 theorist rather than practical realities, until Schwann, many 
 years later, demonstrated that these microscopic eggs, or 
 spores, as we now call them, had a definite existence, and that 
 to them we owe the changes produced by fermentation and 
 putrefaction. That these spores are always present in the 
 atmosphere was demonstrated by allowing boiling infusions 
 to communicate with the air, but in such a manner that no 
 air could enter the flask without having first passed through a 
 red-hot glass tube, and been thus freed from any germs that 
 might float in it. In this case the air had fair pJay, in a 
 chemical sense, but yet no life of any kind made its appear- 
 ance, and even the chemical changes failed to set in. Ex- 
 actly similar results were obtained by Schwann in experi- 
 
234 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 ments with grape-juice, whether previously mixed or not 
 with yeast. These experiments demonstrate the fact that 
 the process of putrefaction is not only analogous to fermen- 
 tation, but that putrefaction cannot take place without the 
 access of the living germs constantly floating in the atmos- 
 phere. 'But he carried his experiments still further. For 
 instance, he found that white arsenic (arsenious acid) and cor- 
 rosive sublimate, being poisonous both to plants and animals, 
 stop both putrefaction and fermentation, while extract of 
 mix vomica, being destructive to animal but not to vegetable 
 life, prevents putrefaction, but does not interfere with vinous 
 fermentation. 
 
 Justus Liebig published a memoir in 1848 upon the sub- 
 ject of fermentative changes, in which he reviewed and 
 brought into a more definite form Schwann's theory. He, 
 too, considered all fermentations and putrefactions as anal- 
 ogous phenomena, but considered yeast a " purely accidental 
 phenomenon " in vinous fermentation, and thought its power 
 of promoting the fermentative process was owing to the 
 unstable albuminoid substances it contained. 
 
 Schroeder and Dusch, in 1854, proved by an extensive 
 series of experiments that the something in the air which 
 enables it to start fermentative changes in boiled infusions 
 of meat, etc., can be effectually removed by filtration of the 
 air through cotton-wool. 
 
 Such experiments, carried on through the first half of 
 the present century, proved that the intervention of air 
 was not indispensable to putrefaction, but that the contact 
 of a ferment with a putrescible body was sufficient to 
 bring about the decomposition of the latter. Gay-Lussac 
 combated this opinion, and attempted to prove that with- 
 out air or oxygen vinous fermentation could not begin, 
 for, said he, grape-juice shut off from access to the air, as 
 in a test tube over mercury, does not undergo fermentation; 
 but if a few bubbles of air or oxj-gen are passed into 
 it, fermentation begins, and manifests itself by the evo- 
 lution of carbonic acid gas, and this gas occupies exactly 
 
Moth, Rust, a\d Microbes. 235 
 
 the same volume as that of the oxygen which has been 
 absorbed. 
 
 Louis Pasteur first carefully discriminated between true fer- 
 ments and the germs of ferments. Atmospheric dust is made 
 up, in the greater part, of earthy matter mixed with organic 
 debris; to wit, microscopic spores and infusorial eggs, which 
 latter are, according to Pasteur, the prime agent in decompo- 
 sition. Oxygen is not the motive agent in these decomposi- 
 tions, as affirmed by Gay-Lussac, neither do the nitrogenous 
 atoms of the atmosphere play the important part in decompo- 
 sition, but these minute organisms which possess a frightful 
 power of multiplication. Moreover, he showed that the oxy- 
 gen of the air is powerless to bring about these alterations if 
 the corpuscles that it usually contains are eliminated or in- 
 cinerated. In 1864 the French Academy chose from itself a 
 commission which repeated the experiments of Pasteur and 
 proved their exactness by taking a flask filled with calcined 
 air and attaching it to a tube, whereby a partial vacuum may 
 be produced. By a proper arrangement blood was drawn 
 from a living animal directly into such a flask without coming 
 in contact at all with the air; and such blood does not under- 
 go putrefaction, provided the air in the flask has previously 
 been brought to a red heat. 
 
 Further experiments conclusively proved that the develop- 
 ment of putrefaction took place, not from the gaseous ele- 
 ments of the air, but from something that they allowed to 
 fall from them in a vertical direction, for a sterilized fluid 
 placed in a flask with a long neck laid sideways did not un- 
 dergo putrefaction until the neck was allowed to stand up- 
 right and open to the air. To isolate this matter M. Pasteur 
 forced the aspirated air through a tube filled with%un-cotton, 
 which is entirely soluble in ether, and this solution showed on 
 the slide of a microscope minute bodies now known to be the 
 genus or ova of these lower forms of the life. There is, 
 then, no such thing as spontaneous generation, but only 
 growth and reproduction from these invisible spores floating 
 every-whcrc in the atmosphere. Wherever dust is found 
 
\ 
 
 236 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 these microscopic germs are there also; and wherever dust 
 settles, there these spores may, under favoring circumstances, 
 reproduce themselves. The only way in which they can be 
 entirely removed from the air is to filter it through many 
 layers of cotton-wool, or to heat it sufficiently to destroy all 
 these organisms. This requires a heat of at least 100 degrees 
 C. (2i2 degrees F.), although, according to Tyndall's experi- 
 ments, the same result may be at last obtained by inclosing 
 air for a considerable length of time in a glass box whose 
 walls are smeared with glycerine. A ray of electric light 
 sent through the space within the box shows it at first full 
 of the same floating motes that can be seen in the air of 
 our living-rooms but little by little these subside and are 
 caught and held by the sticky glycerine until at last the 
 electric spark shows that the air is clear as crystal and 
 absolutely moteless. The air upon the tops of high mount- 
 ains is similarly free from organic germs, and hence unable 
 to produce purefaction, for without germs no microbes and 
 without microbes no putrefaction. It was on the mountain 
 top of the Alps that Prof. Tyndall gave spontaneous gener- 
 ation its final quietus, by a series of experiments worthy of 
 recital here, as the advocates of spontaneous generation have 
 never yet met or disproved them. Prof. Tyndall took thin 
 turnip slices, barely covered them with distilled water at a 
 temperature of 120 degrees, and after allowing it to stand 
 four or five hours poured off the liquid, filtered it, and 
 thus obtained a clear infusion. This was sucked into sixty 
 small, clean, empty flasks, with long necks, projecting side- 
 ways, by the process of alternately heating and cooling the 
 flasks. Then the flasks were plunged into a trough filled 
 with oil, ritad the contents made to boil. Finally, the 
 neck of the flask was closed by heating the glass, and the 
 flask " is lifted from the oil-bath sealed hermetically," that 
 is, from the air. 
 
 " The flasks are then taken to the Alps, seven thousand 
 feet above the sea. There six of them are found to be broken, 
 and the infusion within is found to be muddy. Air has en- 
 
Moth, Rust, and Microbes. 237 
 
 tered through the broken necks, and hence this muddiness. 
 Examined with a microscope the infusion is found full of 
 organisms, some wabbling slowly, others shooting rapidly, 
 across the microscopic field. They dart hither and thither 
 like a rain of minute projectiles ; they pirouette and spin so 
 quickly round that the retention of the retinal impression 
 transforms the little living rod into a whirling wheel." 
 
 These are the bacteria. Has this multitudinous life been 
 spontaneously generated in these six flasks, or is it the progeny 
 of living germs carried into the flasks by the entering air ? If 
 the former be true, how does it happen that the fifty-four un- 
 injured flasks are destitute of ail forms of life ? Is it said 
 that the air itself is the one thing needed to wake up the 
 dormant infusion? He solved the problem after this fashion: 
 Twenty-three of the flasks are taken to a hay-loft, and with 
 a pair of steel pliers their sealed ends are snipped off. At 
 once, of course, there is an inrush of air. Then twenty-seven 
 are taken to a ledge overlooking the Aletsch glacier, about 
 two hundred feet above the hay-loft, from which ledge the 
 mountain falls almost precipitously to the north-east for 
 about a thousand feet, with the following results, given in 
 TyndalFs own words : 
 
 " A gentle wind blows toward us from the north-east — that 
 is, across the crests and snowfields of the Oberland Mountains. 
 We are, therefore, bathed by air which must have been for a 
 good while out of practical contact with either animal or 
 vegetable life. I stand carefully to leeward of the flasks, 
 for no dust or particles from my clothes or body must be 
 blown toward them. An assistant ignites the spirit-lamp, 
 into the flame of which I plunge the pliers, thereby destroy- 
 ing all attached germs or organisms. Then I snip off the 
 sealed end of the flask. Prior to every snipping the same 
 process is gone through, no flask being opened without the 
 previous cleansing of the pliers by the flame. In this way 
 we charge our twenty-seven flasks with clean, vivifying 
 mountain air. 
 
 "Now note the result. In three days every one of the 
 
238 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 twenty-three flasks opened in the hay-loft were invaded by 
 organisms. After three weeks' exposure to precisely the 
 same conditions not one of the twenty-seven flasks opened in 
 the free air but is as clear as on the day it was brought from 
 London. 
 
 "What is the conclusion ? Is not the inference imperative 
 that it is not the air of the loft, which is connected by a con- 
 stantly open door with the general atmosphere, but something 
 that is within the air that has produced the observed effects ? " 
 
 This " something " is the microscopic spores or germs, al- 
 ready described by Pasteur, and which can be seen floating 
 in every ray of sunlight let into a darkened room. These 
 spores or germs are produced within microscopic plants or 
 animals, from which they escape by a rupture of the parent 
 cell wall, and, drying, form an object of such infinitesimal 
 lightness that it can be carried hither and thither and every- 
 where by every breath of air. Any ordinary range of tem- 
 perature does not affect them, but, as has been seen in Pas- 
 teur and Tyndall's experiments, they can be destroyed by a 
 heat sufficient to bring glass to redness. Air thus treated is 
 said to be sterilized, a term that is also applied to flasks and 
 other instruments similarly treated to avoid mistakes in 
 studying these minute forms of life. Spores under the 
 microscope are bluish, opalescent bodies, which do not readily 
 take up artificial coloring matter unless their membranes 
 have been previously acted upon by acids or a great heat. 
 The latter is sufficient, as has already been said, to destroy 
 their vitality, but unless thus treated they preserve their 
 power of growth on the average about three years, although 
 Pasteur claims to have kept them vital for twenty-two years 
 in hermetically sealed tubes. For the growth of microbes 
 from these spores it is necessary only that they should fall 
 into the proper soil. Putrid meat, beef -tea, or any vegetable 
 or animal infusions form excellent culture- fluids, as they are 
 called; that is, liquids well adapted for the rapid growth and 
 multiplication of these spores. Latterly, solids have been 
 more largely employed for this purpose, on account of the 
 
Moth, Rust, and Microbes. 239 
 
 difficulty of keeping fluids free from the spores of all but one 
 kind of the lower forms of life, for each of these has its own 
 particular spore, or seed, and these are very apt to be found 
 together. All spores closely resemble each other, but, like 
 germinal matter, they only produce after their own kind, as 
 certainly as a duck's egg never hatches out any thing but a 
 duck. 
 
 
 
 Various Bacterial Forms. 
 1. Micrococcus septicus; a, scattered; b, in chains— torula. 2. Same in zooglcea 
 form. 3. Bacterium termo. 4. Same— zooglcea. 5. Bact. lineola. 6. Bacillus sub- 
 tilis. 7. Bacillus anthracis and blood-corpuscles. 8. Bacillus (from mouth) with 
 cilium. 9. Bacillus leprae. 10. Bacilli with spores. 11. Bacillus malarise. 12. Vibrio 
 serpens. 13. Spirochaete Obermeieri. 14. Spirillum volutans. 15. Sarcina. X 500. 
 (Copied from Ziegler's path. Anatomie, Jena, 1882.) 
 
 The general name of bacteria (singular, bacterium) is 
 applied popularly to all forms of life produced as just de- 
 scribed. At first, they were known as animalculse ; later, as 
 infusoria ; at present, microbes (little lives) is their proper 
 scientific name. By whatever name they may be called, they 
 are essentially microscopic bits of protoplasmic matter, whose 
 place in the scale of life has not been definitely settled. The 
 Germans call them " spaltpilze," that is, split or divided 
 fttligi, and such they are in so far as they have no chlor- 
 ophyl, or the greet) coloring matter found in plants proper. 
 On the other hand, their growth is more like the algce, or sea- 
 weeds, than the true fungi, but the alga' have chlorophyl, 80 
 it is impossible to group the microbes with them. Most 
 
240 Physiology and Hygiexe. 
 
 probably microbes form a group by themselves, resembling 
 the plants in their mode of growth, but like animals absorb- 
 ing oxygen and excreting carbon dioxide gas. Wherever 
 they belong these microbes are infinitesimally small beings, 
 without nuclei or cell walls, almost colorless and structureless. 
 They have no blood-vessels or nerves. They seem to be 
 simple protoplasmic or germinal matter with the same power 
 of self-motion possessed by the white blood corpuscles. 
 Some of them have minute paddles or tails, by which they 
 proi^el themselves with wonderful rapidity through the fluids 
 in which they live, but most of them undulate and oscillate 
 to and fro without any visible means of propulsion. 
 
 So nearly colorless and structureless are the microbes that 
 their study would be almost impossible without the aid of 
 the coal-tar colors. The black refuse from the main of a gas- 
 house is about as unlikely and unpromising an object as you 
 will often meet with, to be of any real value to man. But 
 chemistry is always bringing the unlikely to pass, for the 
 study of a most unpromising subject often brings brilliant re- 
 sults. A common ant crushed on a bit of blue litmus leaves 
 a red stain, and from that red stain came the discovery of 
 chloroform. The red stain is due to formic acid, from 
 formic acid came formyl, and from formyl came its terchlo- 
 ride, or chloroform, the best gift that ever came to suffering 
 humanity. A little more than sixty years ago a chemist by 
 the name of Unverdorben found a coloring matter in indigo, 
 to which he gave the n.irae aniline, from the Portuguese 
 word for indigo. It was a discovery that attracted but very 
 little attention, and was supposed to be of no practical use, 
 as it was for the next thirty years. About that time an- 
 other investigating genius, named Perkins, found the same 
 substance in the coal-tar just mentioned. Very little atten- 
 tion was paid to this discovery as well, until it was found 
 that from aniline oil could be made a dye called alizarine, 
 which could be made to take the place of madder. The dis- 
 covery of alizarine has revolutionized the industry of dye- 
 ing. Hundreds of acres that were formerly given up to the 
 
Moth, Rust, and Microbes. 241 
 
 cultivation of the root from which madder was obtained are 
 now utilized for the cultivation of wheat, or other foods. 
 But it is not our purpose here to speak of all the changes 
 that the aniline colors have wrought, but simply of their 
 very great value in staining microscopic objects, especially 
 these lower forms of life, which take from the aniline dyes a 
 deeper tint than the surrounding tissues. In this way the 
 microbes have been made distinct, and their study possible 
 and exact. 
 
 It is not our purpose here to name all the forms and vari- 
 eties of microbes that have been discovered up to the pres- 
 ent time. The literature on the subject is already extensive, 
 and the names chosen are so largely from the Greek that 
 they are not adapted for general use. Take, for instance, the 
 naming of the colonies of bacteria; for example, 
 
 1. Torula, in the form of a necklace. (Pages 224, 220.) 
 
 2. Leptothrix, made up of bacteria clustered end to end. 
 
 3. Mycoderma, immobile, composed of bacteria in sheets. 
 
 4. Zoozoea, being masses of bacteria, immobile, inclosed 
 in a sort of jelly which holds them together. For all these the 
 simpler names of necklace, chains, sheets, and jelly would have 
 answered every purpose. Three of 
 these names, however, have come 
 into so general use that they re- 
 quire definition here, which can be 
 greatly assisted by comparing these 
 microbes to well -known objects. 
 The first, except that it is infinitely 
 smaller, closely resembles a billiard 
 ball. This is the micrococcus. Next 
 in order of frequence are the bacil- 
 li, so named from the Latin name Bacilli and mirromrd m tuber- 
 
 f. , , .,, r , cular deposit. 
 
 J or :i rod, bacillus; lor these resem- 
 ble in shape an unsharpened lead-pencil, and are the most 
 hardy of all the microbes. Lastly, we have the spirilla, or 
 those which resemble a corkscrew in shape. The varieties 
 
 and Subdivisions of these are almost endless, but their tcch- 
 Jl 
 
24:2 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 nical names do not particularly concern us, except, perhaps, 
 their further division into aerobians, or those which require 
 air for their growth, and the anaerobians, or those microbes 
 which flourish without the presence of oxygen. And flour- 
 ish they do amazingly, for the most wonderful thing in re- 
 gard to these microbes is their wonderful power of multipli- 
 cation. A generation of bacteria can be begotten in a single 
 hour ; or, in other words, a single bacterium may produce 
 two in that time, and these again four in another hour; and 
 if this rate of increase should continue for only three days, 
 at the end of that time there would be 4,772,000,000,000, or 
 7,500 tons. Fortunately this cannot happen, for this fearful 
 rate of multiplication is cut short by their inability to obtain 
 proper food; for microbes, like all other living beings, must 
 have food or die. Moreover, fortunately, by their growth 
 they produce compounds, such as alcohol, which are destruc- 
 tive to coming generations, for otherwise the presence of a 
 single bacterium would soon overwhelm us with a deluge of 
 infusorial life compared to which the biblical deluge was but 
 a trivial matter. 
 
 Microbes reproduce themselves in two way ; snamely, 
 by fission, or gemmation, and by the formation of spores. 
 The first takes place wherever the exceedingly rapid 
 growth occurs which has just been spoken of. This fission 
 consists of a splitting of the animal into various segments, 
 or buds, which soon dissolve partnership with their parent 
 and set up housekeeping on their own account. As we have 
 already seen, in the course of half an hour they themselves 
 may suffer internal convulsions and split up, or send out seg- 
 ments which similarly divide until their supply of food is 
 exhausted. For you must know that these microbes, like 
 us of larger growth, have their likes and dislikes in the w r ay 
 of diet. One microbe's food is -emphatically another mi- 
 crobe's poison, or at least his starvation, for some forms will 
 grow and flourish in beef-tea, but absolutely refuse the dain- 
 tiest raw potato; as is the case with the bacillus, which is sup- 
 posed to produce consumption. The one that causes chicken 
 
Moth, Rust, and Microbes. 243 
 
 cholera is decidedly ghoulish in its tastes, for it likes best of 
 all a broth made from the chicken which it has slain. The 
 bacillus of cholera morbus is not at all dainty, for it will 
 grow equally well in animal or vegetable broth, and the hay- 
 tea bacillus is equally at home in old cheese. 
 
 In these latter days the scientists have become very 
 Delmonicos in providing for the taste of the microbes ; for 
 instance, at Koch's laboratory they have a bill of fare set 
 before them consisting of Pasteur's fluids, hay-soup, beef- 
 tea, chicken -broth, putrid urine, milk, raw potatoes, old 
 cheese, peptonized meat, and gelatinized blood. Surely it 
 must be a dainty microbe that cannot find here something to 
 its liking. But seriously, in Berlin and elsewhere, with 
 almost infinite patience and painstaking precaution against 
 error, these lower forms of life have been carefully studied, 
 with results that have revolutionized our theories concerning 
 fermentation, putrefaction, molds, parasites, and many 
 forms of disease. It lies outside of our intention to attempt 
 a review of all that the study of microbes has accomplished. 
 But it has already repaid a thousand-fold in money all that 
 the investigation has cost. In proof of this we have but 
 to instance the results obtained in checking the vine and 
 silk-worm diseases, which were devastating these industries 
 in France. In 1853 the French silk crop amounted to some- 
 thing over 50,000,000 pounds. Little by little this gradually 
 decreased until it reached only one fifth of this amount, 
 owing to a strange mortality which occurred in the caterpil- 
 lars which produced the cocoons. This disease was found by 
 Pasteur to be due to infusorial life, and by carrying out the 
 precautions suggested by him it was brought to a halt, until 
 the silk crop of France has again reached the proportions of 
 1853. Neither have we space to speak of the results ob- 
 tained in the treatment of chicken cholera, anthrax, sheep 
 tag, or of the changes wrought in brewing, distilling, and 
 bread-making, but in conclusion only of some of the possible 
 relationships of these lower forms of life to our own bodies 
 and their diseases. 
 
244 Physiology and Hygiexe. 
 
 Beale and his school claim that microbes have nothing at 
 all to do with the production of disease, but are simply an 
 accidental accompaniment. It certainly is true that some 
 of these lower forms of life are perfectly harmless to a 
 healthy body. In fact, there is good reason to believe that 
 certain of them actually serve as scavengers in the intestinal 
 canal, there feasting and gorging themselves, like the vultures 
 of the East, on what would otherwise be dangerous and 
 hurtful to us. So long as they keep within their bounds 
 these organisms are helpful ; but let them in any manner 
 enter the blood and they produce poisonous effects. At 
 least this is the present theory of many diseases, and it has 
 been worked out with remarkable ingenuity and plausibility. 
 In medicine, as elsewhere, the pendulum is too apt to swing 
 from one extreme to the other, and just now there is an 
 effort to explain almost every form of disease, from erysipelas 
 to cholera, as originating from bacterial infection, and in many 
 cases with apparent success. In the case of consumption, 
 for instance, this has been done with so much care, and it 
 explains so many features of the disease that have hitherto 
 been inexplicable, that it may be taken as a fair instance of 
 what is known as a bacterial disease. The infection in the 
 case of consumption is supposed to be a straight rod-like 
 body, discovered by Koch, of Berlin, and named by him 
 bacillus tuberculosis. This rod-like body is so minute, and in 
 color so closely resembles the tissues in which it is imbedded, 
 that it is only by the most careful staining and manipulation 
 that it can be recognized. So difficult is this that not a few 
 good microscopists at first denied its existence entirely, 
 claiming that Professor Koch had mistaken fat crystals and 
 all sorts of other small objects for bacilli. But with wonder- 
 ful patience Koch so verified his work that to-day even his 
 most obstinate opponents admit that this microbe is found in 
 consumptive tissues, and, so far as we now know, nowhere else. 
 So generally is this admitted that, to the knowledge of the 
 writer, a lady has been exiled from her home for a year and 
 more solely on the evidence of a single bacillus in matter 
 
Moth, Rust, and Microbes. 245 
 
 that was coughed up. And wisely, too, if we admit this 
 theory of consumption, for the presence of this bacillus 
 in the sputum indicated that it had found a lodgement 
 in the lungs, and, in the natural course of events, unless 
 promptly exterminated, would grow and multiply until its 
 unfortunate hostess should fall a victim to its ravages. 
 
 The origin of the disease as thus explained is that these ba- 
 cilli, escaping from some other consumptive patient, become 
 dried, and with other microscopic spores are carried hither 
 and thither in the atmosphere until they find some suitable 
 lodging-place. Probably they will not grow on the air pas- 
 sage of a perfectly healthy lung any more than thrash will 
 in a perfectly healthy mouth. But let either parasite find a 
 mucous membrane in the proper condition for its growth, it 
 will fasten and multiply there each after its own fashion. 
 The consumption bacillus is one of slow growth, so that it 
 may be years in producing death, but it nevertheless slowly 
 multiplies at the expense of the lung in which it is imbedded, 
 until at last the person dies, not so much from the presence of 
 the bacillus as from the products resulting from its growth. 
 If for any reason the deposit is small, or the consumptive 
 changes his residence to such a climate that the microbe, 
 after a struggle for existence, perishes, recovery may take 
 place, as not unf requently happens. Similar causes are given 
 for cholera, malaria, hydrophobia, erysipelas, yellow and 
 typhoid and all of the contagious fevers, with much plaus- 
 ibility, but as yet without convincing proof. In the blood 
 of measles and scarlet fever it is claimed that 
 rod-like bacilli can be found, and that the in- 
 oculation of these conveys the disease from 
 one to another. The degree of virulence of 
 lli<: <li- - explained by the behavior of 
 
 the white corpuscles toward tin- Invading 
 bacilli. The former endeavor to bodily swal- Leucocytes de- 
 low the invading microbes, if we can trust curing bacillus. 
 
 the description <>f the scientist who figured the act as 
 given on this page. Given sufficient white corpuscles to 
 
246 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 devour the bacilli, there will be but slight fever ; given 
 more bacilli, a severer attack. At least this is the theory 
 of the adherents of the germ-theory of disease, but in fair- 
 ness those of Dr. Beale ought also to be given. In writing 
 on the subject, he says : 
 
 " Old epithelial cells, like other old and formed tissue, or 
 other dead, organic, animal, or vegetable matter, very soon 
 become invaded by low vegetable organisms, which grow at 
 their expense and live upon their substance. Not only in the 
 substance of these cells, but upon their surface, the fungus 
 germs are found, and frequently project from them, form- 
 in o- little collections which mav be detached from time to 
 time. 
 
 " Among the hair-like epithelial processes projecting from 
 the free extremities of the filiform papillae are often found 
 masses which have a granular appearance under low magnify- 
 ing powers; but when examined under objective magnifying 
 more than three hundred diameters, will be found to consist 
 of millions of spherical and oval fungi, or micrococci, grouped 
 together. . . . The first question you will ask will probably be 
 this: 'Do these germ -particles perform any distinct office, 
 or function, in connection with the solution of food or diges- 
 tion, or do they merely live and grow upon the old epithelial 
 cells and the debris of the food, which must needs undergo 
 change in such a solution, and at the temperature of the inside 
 of the mouth?' We find such bodies in animals as well as 
 man, and though they are found in greatest number in cer- 
 tain derangements, multitudes are constantly present in the 
 most healthy individuals. 
 
 " Wherever organic matter is undergoing change and disin- 
 tegration, in an organism or outside of it, at the temperature 
 of man's body or some degree lower or higher than this, and 
 in some cases at a much lower temperature, such organisms 
 exist in a countless multitude, and grow and multiply at the 
 expense of the disintegrating organic matter. At this time 
 of the year (October) there is not a leaf in which you will 
 not find millions of low vegetable organisms in various stages 
 
Moth, Rust, and Miceobes. 247 
 
 of development and growth. Fungus germs exist in the air 
 at every part of the earth's surface at all times. Though by- 
 no means constantly present in precisely the same amount, 
 some are always to be detected in appreciable numbers if 
 the air is properly examined. Many coming into contact 
 with the moist surface of the leaf about to decay find there 
 a surface favorable for their development. The spores ger- 
 minate, and from the surface of the tissues of the plant the 
 growth easily makes its way into the substance. ... As the 
 leaf grows old, substances are formed which are easily appro- 
 priated by the fungi. The germs of these are present, and 
 are ready to develop just at the time when the appropriate 
 pabulum is formed. The fungus does not spring from the 
 leaf, neither is the leaf caused to grow old by the fungus, 
 and its deterioration begins before the growth of the fungus 
 commences. ... In the case of the higher animals and man, 
 at least, in many instances in which low organisms are asso- 
 ciated with morbid processes, these last are neither the cause 
 of disease nor are they produced by it. Germs, being pres- 
 ent, will grow and multiply wherever the surrounding con- 
 ditions become favorable. If these remain for a considerable 
 time unfavorable, the germs, if present, remain quiescent and 
 may at last die. 
 
 C4 As it is with regard to deteriorating vegetable tissues, so 
 it is with regard to decaying animal tissue. Whether the 
 body be in a state of health or disease, wherever tissue is 
 about to undergo chemical change, wherever decomposition 
 is taking place, or is approaching, the conditions may be 
 favorable for the growth and multiplication of certain low 
 vegetable organisms, the germs of which are present. Long 
 before the changes akin to deterioration and decay are 
 ordinarily supposed to commence, even from the very earliest 
 period of construction and growth, fungus germs are ever 
 present, ready to grow and multiply should death and disin- 
 tegration of a living particle occur. No wonder, then, that 
 \v<- find so many low organisms growing in connection with 
 the old epithelium of the mouth and of the tongue, of the 
 
248 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 esophagus and other parts. Under certain circumstances, 
 the fungi grow and multiply to a vast extent lower down the 
 alimentary canal. Multitudes, as I have said, pass down 
 the alimentary canal every time we swallow food or fluid. 
 Such ordinary bacteria and their germs do us no harm what- 
 ever. But please do not infer from what I have said that 
 the putrid fluids loaded with bacteria are innocuous, or to be 
 recommended. Organic matter in a state of putrefactive 
 decomposition, when introduced into the alimentary canal, 
 gives rise to pathological phenomena irrespective of the bac- 
 teria it may contain. . . . 
 
 "Whether it is some special bacterium which causes the 
 results consequent upon the introduction of specific poison 
 into the organism, or whether the active particles are of a 
 totally different nature, altogether independent of bacteria 
 and allied organisms, is still an open question. Some evi- 
 dence has been recently adduced in favor of the hypothesis 
 that there are bacteria and bacteria — that the real contagious 
 bacterium is an organism altogether apart from the harmless 
 bodies so intimately connected with every part of every one 
 of us. Further, it has been surmised that the horrible death- 
 carrying bacteria of various orders have been somehow de- 
 rived from the harmless form by pathological transformations, 
 or developed in the course of evolutional struggles proceeding 
 through the ages, or that they are the product of a constantly 
 altering environment. But many new facts must be discov- 
 ered and much must be learned concerning special bacterial 
 phenomena before the problem can be solved." 
 
 And to solve this problem is being waged just now most 
 acrimoniously what may hereafter be known as the battle of 
 the microbes. Whatever may be its result, we shall be forced 
 to confess with St. Augustine that the power of God is shown 
 most in the little things. Whether these microbes prove 
 eventually to be our deadliest foes, or nature's invisible 
 scavengers, who injure us only when we force them to work 
 where they ought not, they have already taught us much of 
 practical value. A clean wound is not one which has been 
 
Moth, Rust, and Microbes. 249 
 
 merely washed, but one protected from the presence of these, 
 microbes. Modern surgery in this way obtains results un- 
 dreamed of by our fathers, for their best efforts were op- 
 posed by invisible foes whose existence they never suspected. 
 The blessings of clean streets, quarantine, and increasing 
 years of life are largely the results of the patient study in 
 a Parisian laboratory of the difference between tartaric and 
 paratartaric acids — a subject that the so-called practical man 
 would have sneered at as of not the slightest earthly im- 
 portance. 
 
 As yet we know but in part, but from this partial 
 knowledge, if we are wise, we have learned sufficient to con- 
 vince us that this house in which we live is not a mere 
 joining together of chance atoms. On the contrary, the 
 greatest care has been taken in its construction and in its 
 protection from injury, wherein we find the explanation of 
 the mystery of pain. No truer or more beautiful words 
 have ever been written on this subject than those of an un- 
 known writer in Temple Bar some years ago : 
 
 "The power which rules the universe — this great, tender 
 power — uses pain as a signal of danger. Just, generous, 
 beautiful Nature never strikes a foul blow; never attacks us 
 behind our backs; never digs pit-falls or lays ambuscades; 
 never wears a smile upon her face when there is vengeance 
 in her heart. Patiently she teaches us her laws, plainly she 
 writes her warnings, tenderly she graduates their force. 
 Long before the fierce red danger-light of pain is flashed, 
 she pleads with us, as though for her own good's sake, not 
 ours, to be merciful to ourselves and to teach each other. 
 She makes the overworked brain to wander from the subject 
 of its labors. She turns the over-indulged body against the 
 delights of yesterday. These are her caution signals, 'Go 
 slow.' She si amis in the filthy courts and alleys that we 
 pass daily and beckons us to enter and realize with our senses 
 what we allow to exist in the midst of the culture of which 
 we brag. And what do we do for ourselves? We ply whip 
 and spur on the jaded brain as though it were a jibbing horse 
 11* 
 
250 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 — force it back into the road which leads to madness, and 
 go on full gallop. 
 
 " We drug the rebellious body with stimulants ; we hide 
 the signal and think we have escaped the danger, and are 
 very festive before night. We turn aside, as the Pharisee 
 did of old, and pass by on the other side with our handker- 
 chief to our nose. At last, having broken Nature's laws and 
 disregarded her warnings, forth she comes — drums beating, 
 colors flyings — right in front, to punish us. 
 
 " Then we go down on our knees and whimper about it 
 having pleased God Almighty to send this affliction upon us, 
 and we pray him to work a miracle in order to reverse the 
 natural consequences of our disobedience, or save us from the 
 trouble of doing our duty." 
 
 In other words, we thrust our fingers into the fire and then 
 pray that we may not be hurt, for that in reality is what the 
 so-called metaphysical and faith cures amount to. They are 
 in the same line of argument as Ingersoll's sneering blas- 
 phemy: " Why is not good health catching, as well as 
 disease ? " 
 
 The body, like all else of the Creator's work, was originally 
 « very good," and if our bodies at present are not so, then 
 either we or our parents have damaged them. Why we 
 should be allowed to do this we shall probably never be able 
 to explain until we cease to see in part, and that which is 
 earthly is done away with; but recognizing the fact, which 
 is beyond dispute, what are we going to do about it ? And we 
 ask the question reverently, and as one of importance, for our 
 bodily ills, trivial as they may seem to others, are very im- 
 portant factors in our lives for good or ill. Paul's thorn in 
 the flesh did as much to make him the invincible apostle that 
 he was as did Byron's club-foot to make him a gloomy, 
 misanthropic cynic. Strangest of all, in these latter days we 
 find good men and women who claim that Paul had no busi- 
 ness with thorns in the flesh. No Christian doubts the power 
 of God to perform miraculous cures if it seem best to 
 him, but as yet the evidence is not sufficient to warrant 
 
Moth, Rust, and Microbes. 251 
 
 other conclusions than that the laws of Nature are allowed 
 to take their course with the body just as they do with other 
 material objects. No one dreams of faith being necessary to 
 heal the galled back of an overworked farm-horse. Natural 
 laws have to be utilized for the recovery of disease for the 
 same reasons that their violation brings disease. Sickness, 
 as is well said by Dr. Hunt, is "providential penalty" for 
 violated law, and it is gross disrespect to the Judge of all 
 to expect that these providential penalties should be annulled 
 by the request of one of his petit jury. Trophimus had to be 
 left sick at Miletum notwithstanding the prayers of Paul and 
 himself, or the then Christian Church. And yet in these 
 latter days there has grown up the strange delusion that 
 with an illogical, hysterical girl or an ignorant backwoods- 
 man has been placed power such as was denied Paul. 
 
 No fairer putting of the whole case of faith-cures can be 
 made than will be found in the following inductions taken 
 from an article by Rev. Dr. James M. Buckley in the Century 
 Magazine. 
 
 " 1. That subjective mental states, as concentration of the 
 attention upon a part with or without belief, can produce 
 effects either of the nature of disease or cure. 
 
 " 2. Active incredulity in persons not acquainted with these 
 laws, but willing to be experimented upon, is often more 
 favorable to sudden effects than mere stupid, acquiescent 
 credulity. The first thing the incredulous, hard-headed man, 
 who believes that ' there is nothing in it,' sees that he can- 
 not fathom may lead him to succumb instantly and entirely to 
 the dominant idea. 
 
 " 3. That concentrated attention, with faith, can produce 
 very great effects ; may operate powerfully in acute diseases, 
 with instantaneous rapidity upon nervous diseases, or upon 
 any disease capable of being modified by direct action 
 through the nervous or circulatory system. 
 
 "4. That cures can be wrought upon diseases of accu- 
 mulation, such as dropsy and tumors of various kinds, with 
 great rapidity, where the increased action of the various 
 
252 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 excretory functions can eliminate the accumulations from 
 the system. 
 
 " 5. That rheumatism, sciatica, gout, neuralgia, contraction 
 of the joints, and certain inflammatory conditions, may dis- 
 appear under similar mental states suddenly, so as to admit 
 of helpful exercise, which exercise by its effect upon the cir- 
 culation, and through it upon the nutrition of diseased parts, 
 may produce a permanent cure. 
 
 " 6. That the ' mind-cure,' apart from the absurd philoso- 
 phy of the different sects into which it is already divided, 
 and its repudiation of all medicine, has a basis in the laws of 
 nature. The pretense of mystery, however, is either honest 
 ignorance or consummate quackery. 
 
 " 7. That all are unable to dispense with surgery where the 
 case is in the slightest degree complex and mechanical ad- 
 justments ar« necessary ; also that they cannot restore a 
 limb, or eye, or finger, or even a tooth which has been lost. 
 But in certain displacements of internal organs, the conse- 
 quence of nervous debility, which are sometimes aided by 
 surgery, they all sometimes succeed by developing latent 
 energy through mental stimulus. 
 
 " 8. All that they really accomplish can be paralleled with- 
 out assuming any supernatural cause, and a formula can be 
 constructed out of the elements of the human mind which 
 will give as high average results as their prayers or anoint- 
 ings. 
 
 " Is there then no warrant in the New Testament for the 
 ordinary Christian to pray for the sick, and is there no utility 
 in such prayers ? The operation of the providence of God 
 upon the minds of men and upon their bodies, through the 
 order of cause and effect which he has established, has not 
 come under review. The New Testament affirms that * All 
 things work together for good to them that love God.' It 
 also teaches that the Spirit of God has constant access to the 
 minds of men, and sets forth an all-inclusive doctrine of 
 Providence, without which not even a sparrow falls. It does 
 not say that prayer will always secure the recovery of the 
 
Moth, Rust, and Microbes. 253 
 
 sick, for it gives the case of Paul, who had a thorn in the 
 flesh, and who said, ' I besought the Lord thrice that this 
 thing should depart from me,' but received, 'My grace is 
 sufficient for thee.' 
 
 "None can demonstrate that God cannot work through 
 second causes, bringing about results which, when they come, 
 appear to be entirely natural, but which would not have 
 come except through special providence or in answer to 
 prayer. The New Testament declares that he does so inter- 
 fere 'according to his will.' 
 
 " It was not his will in the case of Paul, and he did not in- 
 terfere, but gave spiritual blessings instead. No one can tell 
 when he will interfere. But prayer for the sick is one of the 
 most consoling privileges, and it would be a strange omission 
 if we were not entitled to pray for comfort, for spiritual 
 help, for such graces as will render continued chastening un- 
 necessary, and for recovery, when the thing prayed for is in 
 harmony with the will of God. The belief that when the 
 prayer is in accordance with the mind of God 'the prayer 
 of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up,' 
 is supported by many explicit promises. But as all who die 
 must die from disease, old age, accident, or intentional vio- 
 lence, every person must at some time be in a state when 
 prayer cannot prolong his life. 
 
 " When we or others are sick the Christian doctrine is that 
 we are to use the best means at command, and to pray, 
 1 Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me ; never- 
 theless, not my will but thine be done.' The prayer may 
 be answered by its effect upon the mind of the patient ; by 
 directing the physician, the nurse, or the friends to the use of 
 such means as may hasten recovery ; or, for aught we know, 
 by a direct effect produced upon the physical system, behind 
 the visible system of causes and effects, but reaching the pa- 
 tient through them ; then, if the patient recovers, it will Beera 
 as though he recovered naturally, though it maybe in an un- 
 usual manner. The Christian in his personal religious ex- 
 perience may believe that his prayer was the element that 
 
254 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 induced God to interfere and prolong life. Assuming that 
 there is a God who made and loves men, none can show his 
 faith irrational or unscriptural; but such testimony can be of 
 no value to demonstrate to others a fact in the plane of sci- 
 ence. When the time comes that the Christian is to die, he 
 must then rest, even while praying for life, upon the prom- 
 ise, * My grace is sufficient for thee.' 
 
 " The faith-healers represent God as interfering constantly, 
 not by cause and effect in the order of nature, but effecting 
 the result directly. Their want of superiority to those who 
 are not Christians, but who use either false pretenses or natural 
 laws, and their inferiority to Christ and the apostles, con- 
 demn their pretensions. Nor does it avail them to say, 
 e Christ would not come down from the cross when taunted 
 by unbelievers.' They might, perhaps, with propriety refuse 
 a test for the test's sake, though Elijah forced one. But in 
 a close observation of their works the radical difference be- 
 tween them and those who they say have no divine help 
 should be manifest. Some of them affirm that the Mor- 
 mons, Newton, and others, do their mighty works by the aid 
 of devils. If so, since casting out devils was a miracle-work- 
 ing power of a very low grade, it is wonderful that none of 
 these persons Jiave been able to cast out the devils from any 
 of the great number who are working in this way, and thus 
 demonstrate their superiority as the apostles vindicated their 
 claims against Simon the sorcerer and others. 
 
 " Faith-cure, technically so called, as now held by many 
 Protestants, is a pitiable superstition, dangerous in its final 
 effects. 
 
 " It may be asked, What harm can result from allowing 
 persons to believe in ' faith-healing?' Very great, indeed. Its 
 tendency is to produce an effeminate type of character which 
 shrinks from any pain, and to concentrate attention upon self 
 and its sensations. It sets up false grounds for determining 
 whether a person is or is not in favor of God. It opens the 
 door to every superstition, such as attaching importance to 
 dreams, signs, opening the Bible at random, expecting the 
 
Moth, Rust, and Microbes. 255 
 
 Lord to make it open so that they can gather his will from 
 the first passage they see, * impression,' ' assurances,' etc. 
 Practically it gives great support to other delusions which 
 claim a supernatural element. It greatly injures Christianity 
 by subjecting it to a test which it cannot endure. It directs 
 attention from the moral and spiritual transformation which 
 Christianity professes to work — a transformation which, 
 wherever made, manifests its divinity, so that none who 
 behold it need any other proof that it is of God. It destroys 
 the ascendency of reason in the soul, and thus like similar 
 delusions it is self-perpetuating, and its natural, and in some 
 minds its irresistible, tendency is to mental derangement. 
 
 " Little hope exists of freeing those already entangled, but 
 it is highly important to prevent others from falling into so 
 plausible and luxurious a snare, and to show that Christianity 
 is not to be held responsible for aberrations of the imagina- 
 tion which belong exclusively to no party, creed, race, clime, 
 or age." 
 
PART II -APPENDIX. 
 
 PRACTICAL HINTS FOR THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE 
 
 BODY. 
 
 First wealth is health, says Emerson ; but health can no 
 more be kept than wealth without care for its preservation. 
 The more so in the case of health, for the reason that, as we 
 grow older, outside cares distract us, and the body is neglected 
 until damaged beyond repair. Few bodies, like few houses, 
 are absolutely perfect in all their parts, but neither houses 
 nor bodies should be neglected ; especially in the case of 
 the body, since we are absolutely sure that it is the only one 
 which will be given us for our use here, and when once 
 dilapidated we must bear the consequences. Exercise is 
 Nature's method of keeping this house of ours in good order, 
 for if the ablest bodied man sits down, like an Indian fakir, 
 to do absolutely nothing, his joints, like the East Indian 
 devotee's, will become stiff and useless. And in direct 
 measure as we defraud ourselves of necessary exercise shall 
 we find ourselves crippled thereby. Exercise will do much 
 more than keep us in good health, for when properly used it 
 will repair inherited and acquired defects, and much of what 
 is hereafter detailed is designed for that purpose — that is, for 
 body-building, as it is well called by Dr. Hunt. Wherever, 
 says he, a particular organ shows a lack of development or 
 vigor this is required ; but " to over-develop a set of muscles, 
 as those of the arm for great lifting, does not always inclu<le 
 a strengthening of the whole frame-work. It is body- 
 building we need ; we are to seek such vital capacity, such 
 adjustment of all the parts, as will best sustain the whole. 
 Many a person loses health because there is a defect in one 
 
258 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 vital part even when all the rest of the system is in good 
 condition. The strength of a chain is to be estimated by 
 that of its weakest link, and this is too often the case as to 
 the strength of the body. Where we cannot fully repair, or 
 bring a person fully up to a higher standard of health, we 
 can study the type of the individual, and bring him up to a 
 higher standard of comfort and vigor. We use the resources 
 we have to acquire more. All do not begin with the same 
 capital of health, or even acquire it, but they can, at least, 
 learn what their capital is, and its ability of preservation or 
 increase, and live accordingly. 
 
 " Very active exercise should not be taken just after a full 
 meal. The reason of this is that the supply of vital force is 
 generally diminished just before a needed meal, and that di- 
 gestion itself, in its first processes, has not yet refurnished 
 the system. ' Observation shows us that most animals incline 
 to quiet immediately after eating. Active exercise before 
 breakfast is not generally beneficial. No doubt it may be 
 advantageous to such as have large vital force; but experi- 
 ment shows that it is better, after so long a fast, to take 
 some nourishment before exercise. The forms of exercise 
 most to be relied upon by those in good health, and who are 
 not seeking to remedy any special disability, are such as 
 bring into play the most of the voluntary muscles used for a 
 change of place. Walking is a specimen of natural exer- 
 cise, and, like some others, has this advantage, that it also 
 gives us a change of air and change of scene. On the 01 her 
 hand, stair-climbing is a form of unnatural exercise, which, 
 if frequent and long-continued, is an injury to many, and 
 especially to young girls. The most uniform rule as to the 
 extent and degree of exercise is that it shall continue until 
 there is a feeling of glow or warmth of surface, or a slight 
 perspiration. Exercise may be carried beyond this without 
 harm, as is often necessary in work, and of advantage dur- 
 ing the process of growth. But the value of exercise, as 
 such, is generally reached when there is glow and slight 
 perspiration. A feeling of fatigue is always an indication 
 
Appendix. 259 
 
 of a needed partial or continued rest, or a change as to the 
 mode of exercise." 
 
 Full bodily development can only be secured by means of 
 the systematic exercise of the parts of the body found want- 
 ing. Measurements for these may be found at the close of 
 the present chapter, and where deficiencies are found the 
 hints herein contained, arranged from Blaikie's How to Get 
 Strong, and Anderson's Physical Training, will prove helpful. 
 
 Daily Exercise for a Business Man. 
 
 Let him daily devote himself two or three minutes to the 
 striking bag. Facing it squarely, with head back and chest 
 well out, he should.strike it a succession of vigorous blows, 
 with left and right fists alternately, until he has done a hun- 
 dred in all. If he has hit hard and with spirit he is puffing 
 freely now, his lungs are fully expanded, his legs have a deal 
 of springing about to do, and his arms and chest have been 
 busiest of all. 
 
 If, once in mid-morning and again in mid-afternoon, the 
 man, right in his store or office, will exercise for two or 
 three minutes with dumb-bells, not weighing more than one 
 and a half to two pounds each, he will find the rest and 
 change most refreshing. But in any case, whether he does 
 or not, every man in this country whose life is indoors ought 
 so to divide his time that, come what may, he will make 
 sure of his hour out-of-doors in the late afternoon, when the 
 day's work is nearly or quite done. If he must get up earlier, 
 or get to his work earlier, or work faster while he does work, 
 no matter. 
 
 To Broaden and Deepen the Chest. 
 
 Anything which causes one to frequently fill his lungs to 
 their utmost capacity, and then hold them lull as long as he 
 can, tends directly to separate tin; ribs, stretch the intercostal 
 muscles, and so expand the chest. 
 
 Holding tin- head and neck hack of the vertical, say six 
 inches, with the lace pointing to the ceiling, and then work- 
 
260 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 ing with the dumb-bells at arms' length, carrying them back- 
 ward, is excellent practice for the upper chest, tending to raise 
 the depressed collar-bones and the whole upper ribs, and to 
 make a person hitherto flat-chested now shapely and full; 
 while the benefit to the lungs, perhaps formerly weak, would 
 be hard to overestimate, especially in threatening phthisis. 
 
 Steady and protracted running is a great auxiliary in en- 
 larging the lung-room ; so is plenty of sparring ; so is the 
 practice of drawing air slowly in at the nostrils until every 
 air-cell of the lungs is absolutely full, and then holding it 
 long, and then expelling it slowly, four to eight times per 
 minute. 
 
 To Enlarge and Strengthen the Front of the Chest. 
 
 All exercises designed for the biceps tell also on the 
 pectoral muscles, for the two work so intimately together 
 that he who has a large biceps is practically sure to have the 
 adjoining pectoral muscles correspondingly large. 
 
 But the pectoral muscles are affected by other exercise than 
 that of the biceps. Whenever the hands push hard against 
 any thing, and so call the triceps muscles into action, these 
 muscles at once combine with them. In the more severe work 
 of the triceps, such as the dips, the strain across these chest 
 muscles is very great, for they are then a very important factor 
 in helping to hold up the weight of the whole body. 
 
 "Working with the dumb-bells when the arms are extended 
 at right angles with the body, like a cross, and raising them 
 up and down for a foot or so, is one of the best things for 
 the upper edge of the pectorals, or that part next to the col- 
 lar bone. 
 
 To Strengthen and Develop the Hand. 
 
 An admirable exercise in this direction is, when practicing 
 pushing up from the floor to develop the triceps, to only 
 touch the floor with the ends of the fingers and thumbs, never 
 letting the palm of the hand touch it at all. This will soon 
 help to rectify many a hand now rather cramped and con- 
 
Appendix. 261 
 
 tracted, besides bringing new strength and shape to the 
 fingers. 
 
 To make any particular finger strong, attach a strap to the 
 bar (page 263) and placing that finger in the strap begin 
 with raising a small weight from the floor until you have 
 drawn your hand down to your chin ; then from day to day 
 gradually increase both the weight and number, until before 
 a great while you may find that you can raise an equivalent 
 of your own weight. 
 
 Just where the thumb joins the palm, and between it and 
 the forefinger, on the back of the hand is a muscle which, at 
 first usually small, can be developed and enlarged by any 
 exercise which necessitates pinching the ends of the thumb 
 and forefinger together, such as carrying a plate or other 
 thin but heavy substance between the tinger and thumb. 
 
 For improving the ordinary grip of the hand, simply tak- 
 ing a rubber ball in it, or a wad of any elastic material, or 
 even of paper, and repeatedly squeezing it, will soon tell. 
 Even simpler is it to just practice opening and shutting the 
 hand firmly many times. 
 
 Exercises for the Triceps Muscles. 
 
 Push with the hands against almost any heavy or solid thing 
 you want to. If these muscles are small and weak, push the 
 dumb-bells up over your head as much as you can daily, till 
 a month's work has given them a start. For two or three 
 minutes each day during that month stand facing the wall, 
 and about two feet from it. Now fall against it, or rather, 
 put your hands on it, about three feet apart and as high as 
 your ears, and let your body drop in toward the wall till 
 your chest nearly touches it, your face being held up and 
 back. Then push sharply back till your body is erect again, 
 and continue the movement. 
 
 Place the hands on the floor, hold the body out at full 
 length and rigid, or as nearly so as you can, and push, raising 
 the body till the elbows are straight as possible, and then 
 raise on stiff elbows again, and so on. If this is not hard 
 
262 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 enough work for the ambitious aspirant for stout triceps, 
 he can vary it by clapping his hands between the dips, just 
 as his face is farthest from the floor ; though in such case it 
 is sometimes well to have a nose accustomed to facing diffi- 
 culties. 
 
 Place two stout chairs back to back, and then draw them 
 about eighteen or twenty inches apart, and, placing one hand 
 on each, holding the arms straight, lift the feet 011" the floor. 
 Now lower till the chin is level with the hands, or nearly so, 
 and then rise till the arms are straight, and then dip again, 
 and so on, the knees and feet, of course, never resting on any 
 thing. 
 
 Forearm Work. 
 
 Any thing which necessitates shutting the hand, or keeping 
 it wholly or partly shut, such as holding any thing heavy 
 in it, driving, chopping, fencing, single-stick, pulling one's 
 self up with one hand or both, batting, lacrosse, polo; twist- 
 ing the dumb-bells around when at arm's length, or a chair, 
 or cane, or foil, or sword, or broom-handle, if the dumb-bells 
 are not convenient; carrying a weight in the hand; using 
 any of the heavier mechanical hand-tools — all these, and 
 more of their sort, will enlarge and strengthen the forearm, 
 and will do much for the hand also. 
 
 To Obtain a Good Biceps. 
 
 Starting with the dumb-bells down at the sides, as usual, 
 raise them slowly and steadily upward in front until they 
 nearly touch the shoulder — technically, " curl " them — hold- 
 ing the head up, the neck rigidly erect, and the chest ex- 
 panded to its very utmost. Now lower the bells slowly to 
 the sides again, and repeat, and so continue. 
 
 If no dumb-bell or other convenient weight is at hand 
 place one hand in the other and bear down hard with the 
 upper hand, holding the chest stubbornly out. Lift away 
 with the lower hand, and when it reaches the shoulder lower 
 it slowly to the side, and then raise again, and so continue. 
 
Appendix. 263 
 
 Fasten a stout hook in a beam overhead and hang a pulley 
 to it. Run a rope through this, at one end of which you 
 can attach weights and tie the other to the middle of a thick 
 cane or other bar, taking care to have the rope of such 
 length in all that when the weight is on the floor the bar is 
 about a foot above your head. Begin with, say, at first 
 a weight of not over one tenth of your own weight. 
 Grasping the stick with both hands, with their palms toward 
 you, draw it downward until level with your chin, then let it 
 go back ; repeat, and continue till you begin to tire. If 
 the weight seems too light attach another. After a few 
 days with these fasten on a basket or coal-hod, and increase 
 the load until, say at the month's end, it weighs over half 
 of what you weigh. 
 
 If, on the other hand, one has these muscles already strong, 
 and can with ease pull himself up six or eight times, he will 
 find this stick and weight an excellent affair for training 
 the biceps of one arm, until it gets strong enough to pull 
 him up without the other arm at all. 
 
 Mount a ladder or a rope hand over hand ; lift any weight 
 in front of you, whether a feather or a barrel of sugar; 
 pick up any thing from the floor ; hold weights out in front, 
 or at your side, at arms'-length ; pull downward on a rope, 
 as in hauling up a sail ; hammer — in short, do any thing 
 which bends the elbow and draws the hand in toward the 
 shoulder, thus taxing the biceps muscle ; and if the work 
 is vigorous and persisted in, this muscle will erelong become 
 strong and well shaped. 
 
 To Bring Up the Muscles on the Front and Side of the 
 
 Shoulder. 
 
 For these muscles holding out weights at arms'-length, 
 either at the side or in front, will be found just what is 
 wanted, the arms being horizontal, or the hands being held 
 rather higher than that, the elbows remaining unbent. Hold- 
 ing the mere weight <>i the hands, as in boxing, but keeping 
 at it a while, keeps these muscles well Occupied ; while the 
 
264 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 sword, or foil, or single-stick, freely plied, or the ax or bat, 
 tell directly here. 
 
 Filling Out the Shoulders and Upper Back. 
 
 Stand erect again with the chin up and chest high (in all 
 the exercises stand erect where it is possible), and have the 
 dumb-bells in the hands, hanging easily at the sides. 
 
 Now carry them slowly backward and upward, keeping 
 the arms straight at the elbows, and parallel until the hands 
 are about as high as they can well go. Hold them there a 
 moment, then drop them slowly to the sides. Do it again, 
 and keep on until you begin to feel like stopping. 
 
 Laying one dumb-bell down, now repeat the above exer- 
 cise with the remaining one, say in the right hand, this time 
 placing the left hand on the back just under the right arm, 
 or on the inner portion of the triceps or upper muscle of 
 the right arm. These muscles will be found vigorously at 
 work, and hardening more and more the higher the bell is 
 carried ov the longer it is held up. 
 
 Development Above the Waist. 
 
 "With a pair of dumb-bells, at first weighing not over one 
 thirtieth of the weight of the person using them, and grad- 
 ually, as the strength increases, substituting larger ones, 
 until they weigh, say, one-tenth of the person's weight, there 
 is scarcely a muscle above the belt which cannot, by steady 
 and systematic work of never over one half hour daily, be 
 rounded and strengthened up to what it ought to be in a 
 thoroughly developed, strong, and efficient person of its 
 owner's sex, size, and age, if long enough continued. 
 
 To Enlarge and Give Power to the Loins. 
 
 All stooping over when lifting is done, as with a spade, or 
 fork, or bar, whether the knees are held straight or bent, or 
 lifting any weight directly in the hands, horizontal pulling, 
 on a pulley- w T eight, rope, or oar — in short, nearly every sort 
 
Appendix. 265 
 
 of work where the back is actively employed, keeps these 
 muscles thoroughly active. You cannot bend over without 
 using them. 
 
 Counterwork foe the Abdominal Muscles. 
 
 Stand erect. Now gradually draw the head and shoulders 
 backward until as far past the vertical as possible. Return 
 slowly to erect position. 
 
 All work such as swinging clubs, or an axe or sledge ; 
 putting up dumb-bells, especially when both hands go up 
 together ; swinging by the hanc}^ from rope or bar, or pull- 
 ing the body up until the chin touches the hands ; standing 
 with back to pulley- weights, and taking the handles in the 
 hands, and, starting with them high over the head, then 
 pushing the hands far out forward ; standing two or more 
 feet from the wall, and, placing the hands side by side against 
 it, about as high up as the shoulders, then throwing the 
 chest as far forward as possible — these all do excellent serv- 
 ice in bringing to these important muscles the length and 
 elasticity they ought to have, and so contributing materially 
 to the erect carriage of the body. All kinds of pushing with 
 the hands, such as one does in putting them against any 
 heavy substance and trying to push it before him, striking 
 out in boxing, in fencing, or single-stick, with dumb-bells, 
 or in swimming, are capital ; while the drawing of the head 
 back swiftly, as in boxing, to avoid a blow, can hardly be 
 surpassed as an aid in this direction. 
 
 The Abdominal Muscles. 
 
 Lie flat on the back, as, for instance, just on awaking. 
 Taking first a deep full breath, draw the feet upward, keep- 
 ing the knees unbent, until the legs are vertical. Lower 
 tin 'in slowly till horizontal, then raise again and continue. 
 It will not take many minutes, or seconds, to bring these 
 muscles enough work for one morning. 
 
 Or, this time keeping the Legs down, and first filling the 
 chest, now draw the body up until you are sitting erect. 
 12 
 
266 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 Then draw slowly back, and repeat. This will be likely to 
 take even less time than did the other, but it will tell 
 tremendously on these muscles. 
 
 To Develop the Leg Below the Knee. 
 
 The main part of the leg, below the knee, for instance, is 
 composed of muscles which raise the heel. Stand erect, 
 with the head high, chest out, and shoulders down, keeping 
 the knees all the time well sprung back, having the feet 
 about three inches apart, with the toes turned slightly 
 outward. Now slowly raise the heels until they are high off 
 the floor, and the whole weight rests on the soles and toes. 
 Now drop slowly down. Then repeat. Next place the hand 
 on the muscles of the calf, and, while at first not firm, feel 
 them harden as you rise, and all doubt as to whether the 
 exercise in question uses these muscles will speedily vanish. 
 Continue this exercise at the same rate, keeping at it until 
 you have risen fifty times. 
 
 There remains one other prominent muscle below the 
 knee, that in front, running down along the outer side of 
 the shinbone. Fast walking when one is unused to it, 
 especially when the knees are held pretty straight, will 
 work this muscle so vigorously as to make it sore. But a 
 plain, safe, and simple exercise for it, yet one which, if 
 protracted, will soon swell it into notice, and give it un- 
 wonted strength and beauty, is effected by stooping down 
 as low as possible, the feet being but a few inches apart, 
 and the heels never being allowed to rise even a quarter of 
 an inch off the floor. Lift the heels, and this muscle is at 
 once relieved. 
 
 Laying any weight on the foot, and lifting it clear from 
 the ground, will also call on this muscle. Simply standing 
 on one foot, first holding the other clear of the floor, and 
 then drawing it up as near as possible to the front of its own 
 ankle, and then opening it as wide as you can, will be found 
 a safe and reasonably effective way of bringing forward this 
 
Appendix. 267 
 
 small but useful muscle ; while walking on the heels, with 
 the toes drawn up high, is simpler yet. 
 
 Work for the Front of the Thigh. 
 
 Scarcely any muscles are more easily brought into action 
 than these of the upper or front thigh. Stand erect, with head 
 and chest high, and the feet about six inches apart. Now, 
 bend the knees a little, say until the head has dropped verti- 
 cally six inches. Then rise to the perpendicular again. This 
 movement is very much akin to that in dancing, the latter 
 being the harder of the two, because the weight is first on one 
 foot, and then on the other, while in the former it is always 
 on both. 
 
 A more severe tax yet is had by holding one foot far out, 
 either in front or back, and then stooping down wholly on 
 the other foot. Few can do this many times, and most 
 persons cannot do this at all. 
 
 Jumping itself, either high or flat, is admirable for the 
 thighs. Maclaren says that hardly any work will quicker 
 bring up the whole legs ; but this will probably prove true 
 where a large number of moderate jumps are taken daily 
 than where a few extreme efforts are made. 
 
 Both fast walking and running bring vigorous action to 
 these muscles ; slow walking does Uttle for them, hence the 
 number of weak, undeveloped thighs among men who do 
 little or no quick foot- work. 
 
 Hopping, which is so good for the calves, is hardly less so 
 for these muscles, and is one of the best possible movements 
 to develop them in the shortest time. 
 
 A more moderate exercise than the running, though not 
 always so available, is walking up hill. This, besides, as 
 already mentioned, doing so much for the calves, tells directly 
 and markedly on the thighs as well. Skating makes a pleasant 
 substitute for walking during a part of the colder months, 
 and, when much distance is covered daily, brings, strong 
 shapely thighs. 
 
 All lifting of heavy objects from the ground tells heavily 
 
268 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 on these muscles, but occasional heavy lifting tends rather 
 to harden than to rapidly increase its size, protracted effort 
 at lighter but good-sized weights doing the latter to better 
 advantage. 
 
 Brisk horseback -riding keeps these muscles very actively 
 employed. Every sort of work which calls for frequent 
 stooping down does the same. 
 
 To Enlarge the Under Thigh. 
 
 The muscles of the under thigh do not get nearly so much 
 to do as those in front, in many persons seeming not to exist 
 at all. The exercise already recommended, of pressing the 
 sole of the foot hard on the ground just as it leaves it, is 
 scarcely more beneficial to the muscles of the calf than to 
 these ; likewise walking up hill. Fastening a weight of any 
 sort, a dumb-bell or flat-iron, to the ankle, say with strap or 
 towel, and raising the foot as high up backward and outward 
 as possible, and repeating until tired ; putting the foot in 
 the handle of a pulling-weight, and frequently drawing it 
 far down ; or, standing with back to the wall, and placing 
 the heel against the base-board of the room, or any solid 
 vertical surface, and pressing hard many times — these all 
 tell on the hidden under-muscle. 
 
 To Strengthen the Sides op the Waist. 
 
 Notice a man weak just here, and see his body sway a lit- 
 tle from side to side as he walks, seeming to give at the 
 waist. Were such a one to practice daily hopping straight 
 ahead on one foot, and then on the other, until he could by- 
 and-by cover half a mile without fatigue, he would find 
 his swaying propensity fast disappearing ; and if he has been 
 troubled with a feeble or unshapely waist, that will also have 
 gradually changed, until at the end it has become firm and 
 well-set. 
 
 Take the long balancing pole of the tight-rope walker and 
 try to walk a rope a while, or try the more simple expedient 
 of walking on the railroad rail, and these muscles are at once 
 
Appendix. 269 
 
 uncommonly busy. Notice the professional tight-rope man 
 and see how strong he is here. His profession has compelled 
 the continued use of these muscles. 
 
 Daily Exeecise for Wo^iex. 
 
 And what should the girls and women do each day? 
 With one-pound wooden dumb-bells at first, let them, be- 
 fore breakfast, go through with the exercises already given 
 to develop the chest (page 259). After six weeks or two 
 months they can increase the number gradually, and if this 
 does not bring the desired increase in size and strength of 
 arm, chest, and back, they can try dumb-bells weighing four 
 or five pounds each. 
 
 Out of doors, either in the latter part of the morning 
 or afternoon, let them, in broad, easy shoes, walk for one 
 hour, not at any listless two-mile pace, but at first as fast as 
 they comfortably can, and then gradually increase the pace. 
 In a fortnight or more they can make sure of three miles and 
 a half at least, if not of four miles within the hour, and that 
 without great fatigue. 
 
 Girls should also learn to run. Few of them are either 
 easy or graceful runners ; but it is an accomplishment 
 quickly learned; and begun at a short distance and at a slow 
 jog and continued until the girl thinks nothing of running 
 a mile in seven minutes, and that without once touching a 
 heel to the ground, it will do more than almost any other 
 known exercise to make her graceful and easy on her feet, 
 and also to enlarge and strengthen her lungs. 
 
 If besides these things the girl or woman will determine 
 that, as much as possible of the time each day in which she 
 is sitting down, she will sit with head and neck up, trunk 
 erect, and with her shoulders low, and that whenever she 
 stands or walks she will at all times be upright) she will 
 shortly find that she is getting to be far Btraighter than she 
 was, that six- has a larger, finer chest than formerly, and that 
 she can mure easily till her lungs. 
 
270 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 Anthropometey. 
 
 The question naturally arises, What should be considered 
 the normal development for a healthy adult. Up to fourteen, 
 girls as a rule are slightly heavier and taller than boys, but 
 after that time the average boy is larger than the girl of the 
 same age. As a standard of comparison, and for learning 
 what parts are deficient in one desiring symmetrical develop- 
 ment, we add the following table by the courtesy of the Nar- 
 ragansett Chest Weight Company: 
 
 A TABLE 
 
 Showing the Pbopeb Weight, Height, and Measurement of a Folly 
 
 Developed Adult. 
 
 1 
 
 X 
 
 *s 
 
 PS 
 
 
 J3 
 
 '3 
 
 S. 
 
 5 
 
 s 
 
 d 
 
 o 
 Ee, 
 
 ,3 
 
 H 
 
 3 
 
 5 ft. 
 
 5 " 1 in. 
 
 103-107 
 107-111 
 
 1H 
 
 32-33 
 33-34 
 
 29 
 29* 
 
 S-i 
 
 o 
 
 8^ 
 
 °8 
 
 4 
 
 15 
 
 16 
 
 
 5 " 2 " 
 5 " 3 " 
 
 111-116 
 116-121 
 
 12 
 12£ 
 
 34-35 
 35-36 
 
 30 
 30£ 
 
 03 
 
 03 
 
 n 
 
 10 
 
 17 
 18 
 
 c3 
 
 5 " 4 " 
 
 121-127 
 
 13 
 
 36-37 
 
 31 
 
 +3 
 
 lOf 
 
 19 
 
 
 5 •' 5 " 
 
 127-133 
 
 13± 
 
 37-38 
 
 3l£ 
 
 
 lof 
 
 11} 
 
 20 
 
 & . 
 
 EM 
 
 5 " 6 " 
 
 133-140 
 
 14 
 
 38-39 
 
 32 
 
 21 
 
 5 " 1 " 
 
 140-147 
 
 m 
 
 39-40 
 
 321 
 
 p a 
 
 111 
 
 22 
 
 S a 
 
 5 " 8 " 
 
 147-155 
 
 15 
 
 40-41 
 
 33 
 
 
 111 
 
 23 
 
 c3 
 
 5 " 9 " 
 
 155-164 
 
 15* 
 
 41-42 
 
 33| 
 
 B 
 
 i4 
 
 24 
 
 a 
 
 5 "10 " 
 
 164-174 
 
 16 
 
 42-43 
 
 34 
 
 
 12j 
 
 25 
 
 
 5 "11 " 
 
 174-185 
 
 16$ 
 
 43-44 
 
 34| 
 
 B 
 
 13 
 
 26 
 
 a 
 
 6 " 
 
 185-196 
 
 17 
 
 44-45 
 
 35 
 
 c3 
 
 13f 
 
 27 
 
 o3 
 OS 
 
 Furthermore a few explanatory words should be added as to 
 the exact methods which have been agreed upon for making 
 these measurements: 1. Weight, if possible, should be taken 
 without clothes, but where this is impracticable the weight 
 of the clothing should be learned, and subsequently deducted. 
 2. JVeck girth should be taken by passing the tape around 
 the neck just below "Adam's Apple." (See page 167.) 
 
 The chest should be measured by a tape embracing it so as 
 to pass over the lower part of the shoulder blades, with the 
 
Appendix. 271 
 
 arms held horizontally. Chest girth should be taken before 
 and after inspiration. 
 
 Waist should be measured at the smallest part after a nat- 
 ural expiration. 
 
 Biceps can best be measured by bending the arm hard at 
 the elbow and holding it horizontally away from the body, 
 passing the tape around the greatest prominence on the arm. 
 
 Forearm is measured by the tape being passed around the 
 largest part, the fist being firmly clenched and the palm of 
 the hand turned upward. 
 
 Thigh. Stand with the feet about six inches apart, with 
 the weight equally distributed on each leg, and measure the 
 thigh just below the nates. 
 
 Calf. Stand as for measurement of thigh and take 
 the measurement around the most prominent part of the 
 calf. 
 
 Furthermore, in addition to the measurements already pro- 
 posed, special attention should be called to the defects most 
 frequently found from the disproportionate use of the various 
 parts of the body; for instance, the head is drawn oftener 
 forward than backward, and hence as a rule the head is held 
 too far forward. For similar reasons the muscles of the right 
 arm tend to pull that shoulder down, except in the case of 
 left-handed people, when the reverse is true. Lack of use 
 of the muscles of the back converts the shoulder-blades into 
 " wings," and thin, narrow waists come from lack of use of 
 the waist muscles, etc. Important as are these defects in the 
 adult, they are still more so in the growing child, where they 
 are more easily remediable than in the adult. 
 
 Physical Defects Common in Children and Adults. 
 
 With children the most frequent of these defects, as noted 
 by Dr. W. G. Anderson, are the following, concerning which 
 it should be remembered that three months may possibly 
 correct some, but that a year is oftener required to straighten 
 round shoulders, and a longer time for a crooked spine. 
 " After fifteen or sixteen years of age it is a long and 
 
272 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 tedioics task, and such as no one of that age will work at 
 alone," says Dr. Anderson, after his wide experience in these 
 matters, and hence the very great value of class work in 
 the development of children. 
 
 (a.) Head. — Droops forward. 
 
 Carried on one side. 
 (&.) Shoulders. — Round, stooped, or sloping. 
 Right lower than left. 
 
 In left-handed people the reverse is generally seen. 
 The lower and inner border of the shoulder-blade is too 
 prominent. 
 (c.) Spine. — Lateral curve of the spine between shoulders. 
 (d.) Arms. — The forearm larger in proportion than upper. 
 (e.) Waist. — Small, narrow, and weak. 
 (/.) Hips. — Thrown too far forward. 
 (g.) Leg. — Developed more than thigh. 
 (h.) Thigh. — Poorly developed on the back and inside. 
 
 The exercises which have been found most helpful for the 
 correction of the common defects of children are given, es- 
 pecial pains having been taken to select those that can be 
 performed without expensive apparatus. 
 
 (a.) Head. — To correct drooping, move the head backward 
 and sideward, but not to the front. Roll the head from left 
 to right backward, and throw the head to the rear as far as 
 possible, keeping it level. 
 
 (b.) Shoulders. — To elevate a depressed shoulder, raise the 
 arm, rigid, to the front or side. Draw the shoulder as high 
 as possible. To draw the shoulders back, raise the arms to 
 the front and force them back as far as possible, for any 
 motion by which the hands come together back of the body 
 is a good one. Place the hands on the hips, thumbs forward 
 and fingers touching back, or clasp the hands back of the 
 head and force the elbows back as far as possible. To return 
 protuberant shoulder-blades to their places, any motion 
 whereby the hands or arms are brought together behind the 
 body is helpful, as are full swinging motions of the arms 
 from front to rear. 
 
 (c.) Spine. — Any movement that will level the shoulders 
 
Appendix. 273 
 
 will tend to cure lateral curvature and draw the shoulders to 
 their proper position. 
 
 To depress a shoulder, any movement whereby the hand is 
 drawn to the side forcibly or to the front or back of the body. 
 
 (d.) Arms. — To develop the front upper arm, any move- 
 ment that will bring the hand to the shoulder or the shoulder 
 to the hand. 
 
 To develop the back upper arm, any movement that will push 
 the hand from the shoulder or the shoulder from the hand. 
 
 To develop the front forearm, any movement drawing 
 the palmar surface of the hand toward the elbow and clinch- 
 ing the hand. 
 
 The back forearm, opening the hand. Drawing the back 
 of the hand toward the elbow. 
 
 To develop the chest, any movement where the hands are 
 drawn to the front of the body. 
 
 (e.) Waist. — Front, any movement that bends the body 
 forward. 
 
 Sides. Any movement that bends the body to one side 
 will develop that side. 
 
 Back. Bending the body backward. 
 
 General rules: A rolling motion of the body on the hips. 
 Twisting the shoulders to right or left. 
 
 (f.) Hips. — To draw the hips back, bend the body forward 
 and backward. Raise each knee as high as possible. Raise 
 each leg without bending the knee. 
 
 (g.) Legs. — Back. Any movement that raises the body on 
 the toes. 
 
 Front. Any movement that raises the toes. 
 
 (h.) TJxigh. — Front. Any movement that pushes the heels 
 from the hips or the hips from the heels. 
 
 Back. Any movement that draws the hips to the heels or 
 the heels to the hips. 
 
 Inside. Any movement that crosses the knees in front or 
 behind. 
 
 (i.) Ankles. — The leg movements will strengthen the 
 ankl< 
 12* 
 
274 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. 
 
 Throw the ankles apart by bending feet to the side. Give 
 a rotary motion to each foot when raised from the floor. 
 
 (j.) Toes. — To cure what is commonly called "pigeon 
 toes," or " toeing in," keep the heel on the floor, and, raising 
 the toes of the right foot, turn them forcibly to the right as 
 far as possible. 
 
 (k.) Chest. — Cultivation of deep inspiration is exceedingly 
 valuable in all cases of rickety or scrofulous children, or when 
 there is any family history of consumption. Dr. Anderson 
 recommends the use of the spirometer for this purpose. 
 According to Hutchinson, the chief authority on the use of 
 this instrument, persons should "blow" according to their 
 height. It will be seen by glancing at the tables given that 
 there is a difference of eight cubic inches for each inch in 
 height. 
 
 A Boy. 
 
 In. height. 
 
 48 should Klow 
 
 en. in. 
 
 70 
 
 In. height. 
 
 48 shoulc 
 
 49 " 
 
 50 " 
 
 51 " 
 
 52 « 
 
 53 " 
 
 54 " 
 
 55 " 
 
 56 " 
 
 57 " 
 
 58 " 
 
 59 " 
 
 60 " 
 
 61 " 
 
 62 " 
 
 63 " 
 
 64 " 
 
 65 « 
 
 66 " 
 
 67 " 
 
 68 " 
 
 69 " 
 
 70 " 
 
 71 " 
 
 72 " 
 
 A Girl. 
 blow 
 
 en. in. 
 
 32 
 
 49 
 
 ii (i 
 
 78 
 
 ii 
 
 40 
 
 50 
 
 a << 
 
 86 
 
 ii 
 
 48 
 
 51 
 
 11 a 
 
 94 
 
 <t 
 
 56 
 
 52 
 
 (( « 
 
 (1 (I 
 
 102 
 110 
 
 <( 
 
 64 
 
 53 
 
 a 
 
 72 
 
 54 
 
 II II 
 
 (( II 
 
 118 
 . 126 
 
 a 
 
 80 
 
 *>5 
 
 a 
 
 88 
 
 56 
 
 (1 (( 
 <( u 
 
 .... 134 
 142 
 
 a 
 
 96 
 
 57 
 
 a 
 
 a 
 
 104 
 
 58 
 
 (( II 
 ii a 
 
 150 
 158 
 
 112 
 
 59 
 
 a 
 
 a 
 a 
 
 120 
 
 60 
 61 
 
 a ii 
 ii ii 
 
 u <( 
 ii ii 
 ii (i 
 
 166 
 
 , . 174 
 182 
 190 
 
 198 
 
 128 
 
 136 
 
 62 
 63 
 64 
 
 a 
 H 
 
 a 
 a 
 a 
 a 
 a 
 
 144 
 
 152 
 
 160 
 
 65 
 66 
 
 67 
 68 
 
 <( (i 
 a II 
 << il 
 ii li 
 li ii 
 ii a 
 (( <( 
 u it 
 
 , , . 206 
 
 . 214 
 
 , 222 
 
 , , 230 
 
 238 
 
 . 246 
 
 , 254 
 
 262 
 
 168 
 
 176 
 
 184 
 
 192 
 
 69 
 70 
 71 
 
 72 
 
 (i 
 a 
 a 
 a 
 
 200 
 
 208 
 
 216 
 
 224 
 
 Where a spirometer is not accessible excellent results may 
 be obtained by the use of Julian Hawthorne's directions, 
 
Appexdix. 275 
 
 to inspire for seven steps and expire for the same time, or 
 even, slow, deep inspirations and expirations (seven to eight 
 per minute), through a quill or straw, are exceedingly 
 valuable for the expansion of sunken chests. Such methods 
 will slowly but surely broaden and deepen the chest of scrof- 
 ulous, rickety, and consumptive children; and when con- 
 joined with good plain diet — beef, eggs, and milk — and sen- 
 sible clothing, will lengthen their days and build them up 
 into the vigorous manhood and womanhood that it has been 
 the aim of this book to inculcate as the duty and privilege of 
 all tenants of the " House Beautiful." 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Abdominal aorta, 59. 
 
 Abdominal cavity, 58. 
 
 Abdominal muscles, to develop, 265. 
 
 Abdominal viscera, 58. 
 
 Absorbents of intestine, 94. 
 
 Abstinence, value of, 83. 
 
 Adam's apple, 167. 
 
 Adenine, 148. 
 
 Adipocere, 54. 
 
 Adulteration of food, 87, 88. 
 
 Aerobians, 242. 
 
 Air-cells, 151-158. 
 
 Albuminoid ammonia, 69. 
 
 Albuminoid foods, 80. 
 
 Albuminoids of body, 74. 
 
 Alcohol, 13. 
 
 Alcohol as a medicine, 85. 
 
 Alcohol as a food, 84. 
 
 Alcohol and cold, 85. 
 
 Alcohol and co-ordination, 202. 
 
 Alcoholic fermentation, 233. 
 
 Alveoli, 151. 
 
 American voice, 171. 
 
 Ammoniaphone, 172. 
 
 Amount of food, 62. 
 
 Anaemia, 110. 
 
 Anaerobians, 242. 
 
 Anastomoses, 124. 
 
 Aniline colors, 241. 
 
 Anorexia, 83. 
 
 Anterior root of cord, 191. 
 
 Anthrax, 243. 
 
 Antipathies, 115. 
 
 Antiseptic surgery, 249. 
 
 Anvil of ear, 205. 
 
 Aorta, 127. 
 
 Apoplexy, 118. 
 
 Arachnoid, 189. 
 
 Arbor vitae, 203. 
 
 Areolar tissue, 21. 
 
 Ami, divisions of, 44. 
 
 Arteries, 124. 
 
 Arterial hemorrhage, 123. 
 
 Artificial eggs, 89. 
 
 Arytenoid ciurtilages, 167. 
 
 Asphyxia, 106,156. 
 
 Atoms, VJ.r>. 
 
 Atrophy of muscle, 50. 
 
 Audible sounds, 208. 
 Auricles of heart, 121. 
 Automatic centers, 202. 
 Axillary arteries, 127. 
 
 Bacilli, 241. 
 
 Bacillus anthracis, 239. 
 
 Bacillus lepra?, 239. 
 
 Bacillus malarias, 239. 
 
 Bacillus subtilis, 239. 
 
 Bacillus tuberculosis, 244. 
 
 Backbone, 41. 
 
 Bacteria, multiplication of, 232. 
 
 Bacterium termo, 239. 
 
 Bad air, 154. 
 
 Bad breath, 134. 
 
 Bad taste in mouth, 133. 
 
 Basement membrane, 14. 
 
 Bass voice, 169. 
 
 Bathing, 135. 
 
 Beef, chemistry of, 63. 
 
 Beer, action of, 54. 
 
 Biceps, to develop, 262. 
 
 Bile, 66, 81, 146. 
 
 Bilious attack, 145. 
 
 Black death, 136. 
 
 Bleached butter, 88. 
 
 Bleached hair, 17. 
 
 Bleeders, 99. 
 
 Bleeding, 147. 
 
 Blisters, 132. 
 
 Blood, 66, 106. 
 
 Blood clot, 98. 
 
 Blood placques, 109. 
 
 Blood plasma, 99. 
 
 Blood serum, 95. 
 
 Blushing, 128. 
 
 Body building, 257. 
 
 Boils, 147. 
 
 Bones, 66. 
 
 Bones at Cologne, 35. 
 
 Bone cells, 36. , 
 
 Bone fertilizer, 37. 
 
 Bone gelatine, 36. 
 
 Bow legs, 32. 
 
 Brachial arteries, 127. 
 
 Brain, the, 200. 
 
 Brain fever, 209. 
 
278 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. — Index. 
 
 Bread, chemistry of, 65. 
 Breast-bone, 40. 
 Bright's disease, 141. 
 Bronchi, 127. 
 Bronchial arteries, 127. 
 Bronchioles, 151. 
 Bronze age of man, 26. 
 Bush, the burning, 152. 
 Business men, exercise for, 259. 
 Butter, adulterations of, 87. 
 Butterine, 87. 
 
 Calcium, quantity of, 61. 
 Calcium phosphates, 74. 
 Camera, of the eye, 184. 
 Canaliculi, 35. 
 Cancellated bone, 34. 
 Canned fruits, 231. 
 Capillaries, 124. 
 Carbo-hydrates, 72. 
 Carbon, 61, 153. 
 Carbonaceous foods, 91. 
 Carbonates of the body, 73. 
 Carbon dioxide, 73, 116, 153. 
 Care of the ear, 208. 
 Care of the eyes, 185. 
 Care of the skin, 137. 
 Carotid arteries, 127. 
 Cartilage, 21, 31, 66. 
 Casein, 81. 
 Catalepsy, 183. 
 Catarrh, 130. 
 Catching cold, 129. 
 Cause of sickness, 114. 
 Cerebellum, 190, 192. 
 Cerebro-spinal system, 187. 
 Cerebrum, 188. 
 Chemical affinity, 62. 
 Chemistry of bones, 36. 
 Chest, bones of, 58. 
 Chest, to develop, 259, 260. 
 Chicken cholera, 242. 
 Chicken gizzards, 82. 
 Chilliness, 129. 
 Chinese dwarfs, 32. 
 Chinese false teeth, 77. 
 Chinese feet, 32. 
 Chinese physicians, 114. 
 Chloride of sodium, 74. 
 Chlorides of the body, 73. 
 Chlorine in body, 61. 
 Chloroform, 240. 
 Cholera, 68, 245. 
 Choroid coat, 178. 
 Chrondrogen, 74. 
 Chyme, 81. 
 Chyle, 66, 94, 97. 
 Cicatrix, 102. 
 Cigarette-smoking, 120. 
 Cilia of microbes, 240. 
 
 Ciliated epithelium, 151. 
 Circulation, course of, 122. 
 Circulation in lymphatics, 97. 
 Circumvallate papulae, 165. 
 Clergymen's sore throat, 172. 
 Coagulation, 98. 
 Coal-tar colors, 240. 
 Coats of artery, 125. 
 Coccyx, 44. 
 Coeliac axis, 59. 
 Coffee, 89. 
 Cold, 229. 
 
 Colds, treatment of, 131. 
 Collar bones, 40. 
 Color-blindness, 181. 
 Color of hair, 16. 
 Common sense shoes, 39. 
 Complementary colors, 180. 
 Composition of foods, 63. 
 Cones of kidney, 142. 
 Congestion, 128. 
 Congestion of the lungs, 118. 
 Connective tissue, 21. 
 Constituents of the body, 61. 
 Consumption, 159, 245. 
 Convulsions, 48. 
 Cooking, 74. 
 Co-ordination, 201. 
 Corium, 14. 
 Corned beef, 88. 
 Corpus callosum, 188. 
 Corns, 19. 
 Corsets, 39. 
 Cortex of kidney, 142. 
 Cosmetics, 20. 
 Coughing, 159. 
 Cowlicks, 16. 
 Cramp, 48. 
 Cranium, 188. 
 Cribriform plate, 173. 
 Cricoid cartilage, 167. 
 Critical periods of life, 27. 
 Cuckoo bone, 44. 
 Culture- fluids, 238. 
 Curd of milk, 79. 
 Curdling ferments, 81. 
 Curling of hair, 16. 
 Cuts and wounds, 20. 
 
 Daily shrinking, 41. 
 
 Dairy products, chemistry of, 63. 
 
 Dandruff, 17. 
 
 Dangerous water, 70. 
 
 Dead teeth, 77. 
 
 Deafness, 208. 
 
 Death, modes of, 228. 
 
 Delicacy of smell, 174. 
 
 Dessicated eggs, 89. 
 
 Dextrine, 81. 
 
 Diaphragm, 57, 58, 160. 
 
Physiology and Hygiene. — Index. 
 
 279 
 
 Diaphragm, rupture of, 161. 
 Digestion, 81. 
 Diphtheria, 150. 
 Dirty saints, 135. 
 Division of cells, 33. 
 Double tube, man, 57. 
 Dress reform, 114. 
 Drink, amount of, 66. 
 Drinking water, 69. 
 Dropsy, 22. 
 Drowsiness, 153. 
 Drum of the ear, 205. 
 Duodenum, 59. 
 
 Duke of Gloucester's bath, 138. 
 Dura mater, 189. 
 Dyspepsia, 60, 81. 
 
 Earache, 206. 
 Ears, 205. 
 
 Earthy salts of bone, 36. 
 East Indian fakirs. 50. 
 Eburnated bone, 34. 
 Eggs, chemistry of, 63. 
 Egyptian mummies, 230. 
 Elastic tissue, 66. 
 Elbow joint, 57. 
 Emulsive ferment, 81. 
 Enamel of teeth, 76. 
 Encephalon, 187. 
 Endothelium, 125. 
 Enlarged glands, 96. 
 Epidermis, 13. 
 Epiglottis, 167. 
 Epithelial scales, 10. 
 Epithelium, 132. 
 Erythopsin, 180. 
 Etruscan kings, 230. 
 Eupepsia, 81. 
 Excretion, 137. 
 Exercise, 51, 257. 
 Exercise for girls, 111. 
 Exercise, time for, 258. 
 Eyeball, 177. 
 Evebrows, 177. 
 Eyelids, 177. 
 
 Face bones, 43. 
 Faith-cures, 251. 
 Fainting, 115. 
 False teeth, 77. 
 Fascia, 22, 46. 
 Fat, 66. 
 
 Fat, advantages of, 52. 
 Fat cells, 52. 
 Fats as food, 72. 
 Fatigue, 229, 258. 
 Fatty degeneration, 51. 
 Feathers, 16. 
 Fermentation, 234. 
 Fibero of Corti, 807. 
 Fibrine, 74, 98. 
 
 Fibrinogen, 98. 
 
 Fibrinoplastin, 98. 
 
 Fibro-cartilage, 21. 
 
 Filiform papillae, 165. 
 
 Filling teeth, 77. 
 
 Filth and sanctity, 135. 
 
 Finger-nails, 18. 
 
 Fingers, to strengthen, 261. 
 
 Fire, 229. 
 
 First intention healing, 102. 
 
 Fish foods, chemistry of, 64. 
 
 Fission of microbes, 242. 
 
 Flannels, 141. 
 
 Floating ribs, 40. 
 
 Flour, adulterations of, 87. 
 
 Flourens' law, 26. 
 
 Flowers, odor of, 175. 
 
 Fluorides of the body, 73. 
 
 Fluorine, quantity of, 61. 
 
 Flying, 43. 
 
 Food, 61. 
 
 Food as fuel, 72. 
 
 Food, quantity of, 83. 
 
 Foods, division of, 72. 
 
 Foods for microbes, 242. 
 
 Fore-arm, to strengthen, 262. 
 
 Fossil bones, 25. 
 
 Fowl, chemistry of, 63. 
 
 Fractures, 57. 
 
 Fragility of bones, 42. 
 
 Free acids of the body, 73. 
 
 French heels, 39. 
 
 Fungiform papillse, 165. 
 
 Funnels of kidney, 142. 
 
 Furred tongue, 18. 
 
 Gall bladder, 59. 
 
 Ganglia, 187, 201. 
 
 Ganglia of the heart, 187. 
 
 Gases of the body, 61. 
 
 Gastric juice, 79. 
 
 Gelatine, 23. 
 
 Gemmation, 233. 
 
 General death, 227. 
 
 Germinal matter, 11. 
 
 Gilding the skin, 139. 
 
 Globulin, 74. 
 
 Glottis, 168. 
 
 Glucose, 81. 
 
 Glue, 36. 
 
 Gluttony, 60. 
 
 GoMen age of man, 26. 
 
 Goose-skin, 16. 
 
 Granulation, 103. 
 
 Gray substance of the brain, 189. 
 
 Grip, to strengthen, 261. 
 
 Growth of the body, 27. 
 
 Haematoblasts, 108. 
 Haemoglobine, 107. 
 
280 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. — Index. 
 
 Hair as evidence, 15. 
 
 Hair dyes, 17. 
 
 Hair follicle, 15. 
 
 Hairs, number of, 9. 
 
 Hammer of the ear, 205. 
 
 Hand, to develop, 260. 
 
 Harmless germs, 247. 
 
 Haversian canals, 35. 
 
 Hay fever, 176. 
 
 Headache, 153. 
 
 Healing of a wound, 101. 
 
 Heart disease, 117. 
 
 Heart sounds, 116. 
 
 Heart, weight of, 121. 
 
 Heat and spores, 238. 
 
 Heat apoplexy, 140. 
 
 Heat centers, 92. 
 
 Heat of the body, 92. 
 
 Height and weight, 28. 
 
 Hemispheres of the brain, 188. 
 
 Hiccough, 160. 
 
 High heels, 113. 
 
 Hoarseness, 129. 
 
 Hole, Black, of Calcutta, 153. 
 
 How to grow old, 27. 
 
 Hunger, 229. 
 
 Hyaline cartilage, 32. 
 
 Hydration and digestion, 80. 
 
 Hydrogen, 61, 73. 
 
 Hydrophobia, 245. 
 
 Idiosyncrasies, 166. 
 
 Immunity from disease, 245. 
 
 Infant digestion, 78. 
 
 Infant foods, 79. 
 
 Inflammation, 103. 
 
 Inhalation battery, 171. 
 
 Innominate artery, 127. 
 
 Inorganic constituents of body, 73. 
 
 Inorganic food, 73. 
 
 Insalivation, 78. 
 
 Insomnia, 196. 
 
 Integument, 10. 
 
 Inter vascular spaces, 125. 
 
 Intervertebral disks, 41. 
 
 Intoxication, 149. 
 
 Inverted sugar, 81. 
 
 Invertin, 81. 
 
 Involuntary muscles, 46, 47. 
 
 Iron age or man, 26. 
 
 Iron in body, 61. 
 
 John "Wesley's questions, 82. 
 Joints of the body, 57. 
 
 Karyokinesis, 12. 
 
 Keep your mouth shut, 150. 
 
 Keratin, 74. 
 
 Kidneys, 66, 141. 
 
 Kidney dise,ase, 141. 
 
 Kissing, danger of, 163. 
 Kitchen of the body, 60. 
 
 Labials, 164. 
 Lachrymal duct, 177. 
 Lachrymal gland, 176. 
 Lacteals, 80, 94. 
 Lacunae of bone, 35. 
 Lamellae of bone, 35. 
 Leptothrix, 241. 
 L'archee, 230. 
 Laryngoscope, 168. 
 Larynx, 167. 
 Latticed hone, 34. 
 Laughing, value of, 162. 
 Leaky heart, 1 23. 
 Leberwurst, 88. 
 Legs, bones of, 44. 
 Leucocytes, 104. 
 Leucoamines, 148. 
 Ligaments, 56. 
 Light, sensation of, 179. 
 Limit of work, 49. 
 Liver, 59, 66. 
 Living skeletons, 22. 
 Local death, 226. 
 Location of heart, 58, 120. 
 Loins, to strengthen, 264. 
 Long bones, 33, 37. 
 Longevity, increase in, 26. 
 Loose teeth, 77. 
 Lower leg, to develop, 266. 
 Lungs, 156, 157, 158. 
 Lymph, 66, 95. 
 Lymphatic glands, 95. 
 Lymphatics of bone, 35. 
 
 Macula lutea, 178. 
 Maggots, 232. 
 
 Magnesium, quantity of, 61. 
 Malaria, 245. 
 Malphigian capsule, 141. 
 Manganese, quantity of, 61. 
 Marsh gas, 73. 
 Mastication, 75. 
 Mastodon soup, 36. 
 Measles, 245. 
 Mediastinum, 156. 
 Medulla oblongata, 190. 
 Medulla of kidney, 142. 
 Membranes of the brain, 189. 
 Membrane of the ear, 205. 
 Metalloids of the body, 61. 
 Microbes, 103, 230. 
 Micrococcus, 241. 
 Micrococcus septicus, 239. 
 Microcytes, 109. 
 Microscopic eggs, 233. 
 Middle ear, 206. 
 Milk, 66, 79. 
 
Physiology and Hygiene. — Index. 
 
 281 
 
 Milk, digestion of, 79. 
 Milk teeth, 75. 
 Mitral valve, 122. 
 Molars, 78. 
 Molecules, 252. 
 Mouth breathing, 151. 
 Mucous membrane, 132. 
 Mucus, 66. 
 Muscle, 45, 66. 
 Muscles, number of, 45. 
 Muscles, naming of, 45. 
 Muscular fibers, 46. 
 Muscular sense, 183. 
 Music and color, 179. 
 Mustard, 73. 
 
 Mutton, chemistry of, 63. 
 Mycoderma, 241. 
 Myopia, 182. 
 
 Nasal inhalation, 151. 
 Neck, bones of, 43. 
 Nerves, 66. 
 Nerve cells, 189. 
 Nerve force, 193. 
 Nerve structure, 186. 
 Nerve tire, 197. 
 Nerve tuner, 195. 
 Nervous dyspepsia, 83. 
 Neuralgia, 111, 197. 
 Neurasthenia, 198. 
 Nutritious food, 86. 
 Nitrates of the body, 73. 
 Nitrogen, 73. 
 Nitrogen, quantity of, 61. 
 Nitrogenous food, 72. 
 Non-nitrogenous foods, 72. 
 Norris's corpuscles, 108. 
 Noses, study of, 31. 
 
 Odor of water, 69. 
 Old men, 26. 
 Old bones, 25. 
 Oleomargarine, 88. 
 Olfactory nerve, 173. 
 Optic nerve, 178. 
 Optic thalamus, 192. 
 Orbit, 178. 
 Organic germs, 246. 
 Osmic acid, 176. 
 Ossification of cartilage, 33. 
 Ostein, 74. 
 Osteoblasts, 33. 
 Overworked muscles, 50. 
 Oxygen, 73, 153. 
 
 j ii and fermentation, 234. 
 Oxygen, quantity of, 61. 
 
 Packing of i.erves, 203. 
 Pain of dying, 228. 
 Pancreas, 59. 
 
 Pancreatic diastase, 81. 
 Pancreatic fluid, 81. 
 Papillae of fingers, 14. 
 Paralysis, 54. 
 Parotid gland, 78. 
 Patent foods, 86. 
 Pearl powder, 43. 
 Pelvis, 33, 44. 
 Pepper, 73. 
 Pepsin, 79, 81. 
 Peptic glands, 79. 
 Peptone, 79, 80. 
 Pericardium, 120. 
 Perimysium, 56. 
 Perivascular spaces, 96. 
 Perspiration, 138. 
 Perspiration, amount of, 140. 
 Pharynx, 166. 
 
 Phosphates of the body, 73. 
 Phosphorus, quantity of, 61. 
 Phrenology, 42. 
 Pia-mater, 190. 
 Pitch of voice, 168. 
 Plague, 135. 
 Plethora, 110. 
 Pleura, 156. 
 Plexus, 186. 
 Plumpness, 51. 
 Pomatum, 16. 
 Poor teeth, 75. 
 Pork, chemistry of, 63, 75. 
 Posterior roots of cord, 191. 
 Potable water, 69. 
 Potassium, quantity, 61. 
 Potatoes, 74. 
 Prespyopia, 181. 
 Price of food, 90. 
 Protoplasm, 12. 
 Psychic force, 202. 
 Ptoamines, 148. 
 Pty aline, 81. 
 Pulmonary arteries, 122. 
 Pulmonary veins, 122. 
 Pulse, 123. 
 
 Purkinje, substance of, 186. 
 Pus, 20, 103. 
 Putrefaction, 231. 
 Pylorus, 59, 81. 
 
 Quarantine, 136. 
 
 Rameses II., 24. 
 Rain-water, 69. 
 Red corpuscles, 104, 105, 106. 
 Red corpuscles, origin of, 110. 
 Regulation of heat, 140. 
 Reins, 141. 
 Residual air, 158. 
 Respiration, 152. 
 Respiratory centers, 202. 
 
282 
 
 Physiology and Hygiene. — Index. 
 
 Retina, 178. 
 Ribs, number of, 40. 
 Rickety children, 42. 
 Rigor mortis, 47. 
 River water, 69. 
 Rods and cones, 178. 
 Root of tbe lungs, 157. 
 Roses, odor of, 176. 
 Running, 269. 
 
 Sacrum, 33. 
 
 Saliva, 66, 75, 78. 
 
 Salivary diastase, 81. 
 
 Salivary glands, 78. 
 
 Salt, common, 74. 
 
 Salts and coagulation, 100. 
 
 Saratoga chips, 89. 
 
 Sarcina, 239. 
 
 Sarcolemma, 56. 
 
 Sausages, 88. 
 
 Scapula?, 43. 
 
 Scarf skin, 13. 
 
 Scarlet fever, 245. 
 
 Scars, 20. 
 
 Scent, 173. 
 
 Schwann, substance of, 186. 
 
 Sclerotic coat, 182. 
 
 Scrofula, 96. 
 
 Scurvy, 87. 
 
 Sebaceous glands, 15. 
 
 Secretion, 137. 
 
 Semicircular canals, 206. 
 
 Semilunar valves. 122. 
 
 Sensibility of retina, 180. 
 
 Ser-albumen, 74. 
 
 Sewer-gas poisoning, 154. 
 
 Sex, relation to coagulation, 100. 
 
 Shadoof, the, 116. 
 
 Shafts of long bones, 34. 
 
 Shaving, 172. 
 
 Sheep tag, 243. 
 
 Shoulder-blades, 43. 
 
 Shoulders, to develop, 263. 
 
 Sick headaches, 82. 
 
 Sighing, 160. 
 
 Sight without eyes, 183. 
 
 Sigmoid flexure, 150. 
 
 Silkworm disease, 243. 
 
 Singing, 159. 
 
 Sinuses of the brain, 188. 
 
 Sinews, 56. 
 
 Six-year molars, 76. 
 
 Skeleton, 25, 33. 
 
 Skin, 66. 
 
 Skull, a box, 42. 
 
 Skull, arches of, 42. 
 
 Slang, 194. 
 
 Sleep, 195. 
 
 Sleeping-rooms, 154. 
 
 Smelling, 173. 
 
 Sneezing, 160. 
 
 Snoring, 160. 
 
 Sobbing, 160. 
 
 Soda water, 152. 
 
 Sodium, in body of, 61. 
 
 Soft palate, 166. 
 
 Sound waves, 169. 
 
 Spaltpilze, 239. 
 
 .Speaking machines, 170. 
 
 Speech, 164. 
 
 Spinal column, 41. 
 
 Spinal cord, 41, 66, 191. 
 
 Spinal curvature, 42. 
 
 Spinal fluid, 66. 
 
 Spirilla?, 241. 
 
 Spirillum volutans, 239. 
 
 Spleen, 59, 66. 
 
 Sponge baths, 140. 
 
 Spongy bone, 34. 
 
 Spontaneous generation, 232. 
 
 Spores, 238. 
 
 Sprains, 57. 
 
 Spring fever, 147. 
 
 Spring water, 69. 
 
 Squinting, 181. 
 
 Stairs, 39, 258. 
 
 Stale clothing, 138. 
 
 Standing, 34, 37. 
 
 Starches, digestion of, 81. 
 
 Starchy foods, 74, 80. 
 
 Stepping, 38. 
 
 Sterilization, 238. 
 
 Stimulants, 84. 
 
 Stomach, 59. 
 
 Stomach bitters, 134. 
 
 St. Vitus dance, 48. 
 
 Sublingual glands, 78. 
 
 Subclavian arteries, 127. 
 
 Submaxillary glands, 78. 
 
 Sudoriferous glands, 137. 
 
 Sugar, 90. 
 
 Sulphates of the body, 73. 
 
 Sunstroke, 140. 
 
 Sulphureted hydrogen, 73. 
 
 Supplemental air, 158. 
 
 Sweat glands, action of, 138. 
 
 Sweating sickness, the, 137. 
 
 Synovial fluid, 31. 
 
 Sympathetic nerves, 93. 
 
 Sympathetic nervous system, 187 
 
 Table manners, early English, 136. 
 
 Tactile corpuscles, 14. 
 
 Taste, 165. 
 
 Taste of water, 70. 
 
 Tear jugs, 177. 
 
 Tears, 137, 177. 
 
 Teeth, 66, 75. 
 
 Telephones, 205. 
 
 Temperature and coagulation, 100. 
 
Physiology and Hygiene. — Index 
 
 283 
 
 Temperature of rooms, 155. 
 
 Tendon, 56. 
 
 Tenor, i69. 
 
 Thigh, to develop, 267, 268. 
 
 Thennogenesis, 92. 
 
 Thermolysis, 92. 
 
 Thermotaxy, 92. 
 
 Third corpuscles, 108. 
 
 Thirst, 67, 229. 
 
 Tidal air, 158. 
 
 Tight collars, 172. 
 
 Timbre of voice, 171. 
 
 Thoracic cage, 40. 
 
 Thoracic duct, 94. 
 
 Throat, 166. 
 
 Thyroid cartilage, 167. 
 
 Toasting, 75. 
 
 Tobacco heart, 118. 
 
 Toothache, 76. 
 
 Tongue. 164. 
 
 Tongueiess speech, 165. 
 
 Tonsils, 150. 
 
 Torula, 241. 
 
 Trachea, 127. 
 
 Tricuspid valve, 121. 
 
 Triceps, to strengthen, 261. 
 
 Trypsin, 81. 
 
 Tunics of the eye, 178. 
 
 Turbinated bones, 173. 
 
 Typhoid fever, 68, 245. 
 
 Tyndall's experiments, 237. 
 
 Upper back, to develop, 264. 
 
 Uraemia, 144. 
 
 Urea, 144. 
 
 Uriniferous tubules, 142. 
 
 Uric acid, 144. 
 
 Urine, 142. 
 
 Valves in veins, 126. 
 Value of pain, 249. 
 Varicose veins, 126. 
 Veal, chemistry of, 63. 
 
 Vegetables, chemistry of, 64. 
 
 Veins, 125, 126. 
 
 Velocity of nerve force, 193. 
 
 Vena cava, 94. 
 
 Ventilation, 154. 
 
 Ventricles of the brain, 188. 
 
 Ventricles of the heart, 122. 
 
 Vertebras, 41. 
 
 Vertigo, 110. 
 
 Vocal cords, 167, 168. 
 
 Vocal culture, 208. 
 
 Voice, 164. 
 
 Voice, range of, 169. 
 
 Volition, 192. 
 
 A'oluntary muscles, 45. 
 
 Vibrations in ear, 207. 
 
 Vibrio serpens, 239. 
 
 Vision, red, 180. 
 
 Vitality of spores, 238. 
 
 Wakefulness, 196. 
 
 Waist, to strengthen, 268. 
 
 Walking, 38, 39, 111. 112. 
 
 Water, 68, 73. 
 
 Water proportion in body, 66. 
 
 Water tests, 71. 
 
 Weight and height, 28. 
 
 Weight of dried body, 66. 
 
 Well-water, 71, 72. 
 
 Whisky bronchitis, 134. 
 
 White blood corpuscles, 103. 
 
 Wigs, 17. 
 
 Windpipe, 151. 
 
 Women, exercise for, 269. 
 
 Work, 48, 56. 
 
 Work, limit of, 49. 
 
 Wrinkles, 23. 
 
 Yawning, 160. 
 Yellow fever, 245. 
 Yellow spot, 178. 
 
 Zooglcea, 239. 
 
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