Popular Lectures on Zoonomia
Dr. Garnett was received by the Managers of the Royal Institution with attention, civility, and respect. During the winter, the lecture room was crowded with persons of the first distinction and fashion, as well as by those who had individually contributed much to the promotion of science; and although the northern accent, which Dr. Garnett still retained in a slight degree, rendered his voice somewhat inharmonious to an audience in London, his modest and unaffected manner of delivering his opinions, his familiar, and at the same time elegant language, rendered him the object of almost universal kindness and approbation.
The exertions of the winter had in some measure injured his health, and a degree of uncertainty that he saw in his prospects, tended greatly to depress his spirits. He determined, however, to keep his situation at the Institution, in order that he might at a more convenient time be justified to himself in resigning it. In the summer of 1800, he visited his children in Westmoreland; but his anxiety of mind was not diminished, nor consequently his health improved, by this relaxation from active employment. He walked over the same ground, and viewed the same prospects that he had formerly enjoyed in the company of his wife. He had not resolution to check the impressions as they arose; and thus, instead of being solaced by the beauties which surrounded him, he gave the reins to his melancholy fancy, which, unchecked by any other remembrance, dwelt only on the affection and the virtues of her, whose loss he had ever to deplore; the want of whose society he imagined to be the chief source of his misery. Towards the end of autumn, he returned to the Institution, and in the winter, recommenced his duties as professor. The effect produced upon his lecturing by these and other irritating circumstances was remarkable. Debility of body, as well as uneasiness of mind, incapacitated him for that ardent and energetic pursuit of knowledge, by which he had been so eminently distinguished. His spirited, and at the same time modest method of delivery was changed into one languid and hesitating, that, during this period, occasioned an erroneous judgment to be formed of his abilities as a man of science, and a teacher, by such of his audience as were unacquainted with the cause, or the intrinsic value and merit of the man. At the close of the season, his determination of retiring from the Institution was fixed; and he presented to the Managers his resignation.
It was well known to Dr. Garnett's particular friends, that during the early part of this session, he determined to withdraw himself from the Institution; but the success and advancement of the establishment, which he sanguinely hoped would stand unrivalled in the universe, was so intimately connected with the affections of his mind, that he resolved to forego every personal consideration, rather than risk an inconvenience to the Institution, by ceasing to deliver his lectures in the middle of a course; liberally considering, that the Managers, after the business of the season was over, would have time and opportunity before the ensuing session, to fill the professor's chair with talents competent to the arduous undertaking; a circumstance the Managers afterwards so eminently profited by, with the highest credit to themselves, and advantage to the public, in the nomination of the gentlemen who now fill the situation held by Dr. Garnett, and who discharge its important duties with the most distinguished abilities.
The transactions of the last winter almost completely served to undermine the small strength of constitution he had left; he was constantly harrassed by complaints in the organs of digestion; head ache deprived him of the power of application; his countenance assumed a sallow complexion; the eye which had beamed with animation, retired within its socket, deprived of lustre; melancholy conceptions filled his imagination more habitually, and were excited by slighter causes; at times, they altogether deprived him of the power of exertion; and while he lamented their effect, the contemplation of themselves rendered him the more their prey. At this time, a gloomy day, or the smallest disappointment, gave him inconceivable distress; but he was not altogether incapable of temporary relief, and the few moments of pleasure he seemed to enjoy, would have given reason to believe, that he might once more have recovered, and have long continued to be the delight and instructor of his friends. A more close observation would at the same time have justified the supposition, that the strong and painful emotions of mind he had suffered, had already induced disorders of the bodily system, which were irrecoverable. Before Doctor Garnett had left his situation at Glasgow, he had determined to practice as a physician in London; but from this he was restrained, during the time he was at the Royal Institution. To his former intention he now determined to apply himself, and in addition to the attempt, by giving private lectures, to assure himself of that independency, of which his unfortunate destiny, though with every reasonable expectation before him, had hitherto deprived him.
With this intention, he purchased the lease of a house in Great Marlborough Street; and in the summer of 1801, built a lecture room. He brought his family to town, and once more looked forward with hope. The flattering success he soon met with, and a short residence at Harrowgate in the autumn, contributed to afford a temporary renovation of health and spirits; it was, however, but a short and delusive gleam of prosperity which now dawned upon him; for, confiding too much in his newly increased strength, he exerted himself to a much greater degree than prudence would have suggested. In the course of the following winter, he delivered not less than eight courses of lectures, two on chemistry, two on experimental philosophy, a private course on the same subject, one on mineralogy, and the course to which this sketch is prefixed, which he also delivered in an apartment at Tom's Coffee house, for the convenience of medical students, and others, in the city. Besides these, he commenced two courses on botany, one at Brompton, and the other at his own house; but a return of ill health prevented his concluding them. It was not to be expected, that a constitution so impaired and debilitated, could long support this continued labour of composition and recitation; accordingly he became affected with a consequent disorder, which rapidly exhausted his strength; and, being unable to employ the only probable means of recovering it, he became more incapable of exertion. His spirits however were roused, and he ceased not to use every means of increasing his practice. In the spring of 1802, the office of physician to the St. Mary le Bonne Dispensary happened to be vacant, and he became a candidate; he was more than commonly anxious to obtain this situation. It seemed to him, as if his future good or ill fortune depended altogether upon the event of his canvass, he spared no effort to ensure his success; and accordingly was appointed to the situation in May. His life now drew near a close. Little was he calculated to bear the accumulated labours, and extreme fatigue, to which he was daily exposed. Any benefit which might have resulted from constant and well regulated occupation was frustrated; for whilst he still suffered from the vividness of his conception, representing to him in mournful colours the occurrences of his past life, he became liable to other evils, not less injurious and destructive. The practice of medicine requires both vigorous health of body and firmness of mind. Dr. Garnett, now greatly weakened in body, and not exempt from anxiety of mind, became more and more susceptible to the action of morbific matter. It was not long before he received the contagion of typhous fever, whilst attending a patient, belonging to that very dispensary of which he had been so anxious to become physician. He laboured under the disorder for two or three weeks, and died the 28th of June, 1802; and was buried in the new burial ground of the parish of St. James, Westminster.
Thus was lost to society a man, the ornament of his country, and the general friend of humanity. In his personal attachments, he was warm and zealous. In his religion he was sincere, yet liberal to the professors of contrary doctrines. In his political principles, he saw no end, but the general good of mankind; and, conscious of the infirmity of human judgment, he never failed to make allowances for error. As a philosopher, and a man of science, he was candid, ingenuous, and open to conviction; he never dealt in mystery, or pretended to any secret in art; he was always ready in explanation, and desirous of assisting every person willing to acquire knowledge. Virtue was the basis of all his actions; science never possessed a fairer fabric, nor did society ever sustain a greater loss.
LECTURE I. INTRODUCTION
I AM well aware of the difficulties attending the proper composition of a popular course of lectures on the animal economy, which must be essentially different from those generally delivered in the schools of medicine; because it professes to explain the structure and functions of the living body, to those who are supposed to be unacquainted with the usual preliminary and collateral branches of knowledge. It must be obvious to every one, that it can be by no means an easy task to give in a few lectures, a perspicuous view of so extensive a subject; but I trust that the consideration of this difficulty will readily extend to me your indulgence.
That such a course, if properly conducted, must be interesting, needs scarcely to be observed; for the more we examine the structure and functions of the human body, the more we admire the excellence of the workmanship, and beauty of contrivance, which presents itself in every part, and which continually shows the hand of omniscience. The most ingenious of human inventions, when compared with the animal frame, indicate a poverty of contrivance which cannot fail to humble the pretensions of the sons of men. Surely then there are few who will not feel a desire to become acquainted with subjects so interesting.
But there is another point of view which will place the utility of such inquiries in a still stronger light. We shall afterwards see, that our life is continually supported by the action of a number of substances, by which the body is surrounded, and which are taken into the stomach for its nourishment. On the due action of these depends the pleasant performance of the different functions, or the state of health; without which, riches, honours, and every other gratification, become joyless and insipid.
By understanding the manner in which these powers act, or, in other words, by becoming acquainted with the principles of physiology, we shall be enabled to regulate them, so as, in a great measure, to guard against the numerous ills that flesh is heir to: for it is universally agreed, that by far the greatest part of the diseases to which mankind are subject, have been brought on by intemperance, imprudence, and the neglect of precautions, which often arises from carelessness, but much oftener from ignorance of those precautions.
Physiological ignorance is, undoubtedly, the most abundant source of our sufferings; every person accustomed to the sick must have heard them deplore their ignorance of the necessary consequences of those practises, by which their health has been destroyed: and when men shall be deeply convinced, that the eternal laws of nature have connected pain and decrepitude with one mode of life, and health and vigour with another, they will avoid the former and adhere to the latter.
It is strange, however, to observe that the generality of mankind do not seem to bestow a single thought on the preservation of their health, till it is too late to reap any benefit from their conviction: so that we may say of health, as we do of time, we take no notice of it but by its loss; and feel the value of it when we can no longer think of it but with retrospect and regret.
When we take a view of the human frame, and see how admirably each part is contrived for the performance of its different functions, and even for repairing its own injuries, we might at first sight imagine, that such a structure, unless destroyed by external force, should continue for ever in vigour, and in health: and it is by mournful experience alone that we are convinced of the contrary. The strongest constitution, which never experienced the qualms of sickness, or the torture of disease, and which seems to bid defiance to the enemies of health that surround it, is not proof against the attacks of age. Even in the midst of life we are in death; how many of us have contemplated with admiration the graceful motion of the female form; the eye sparkling with intelligence; the countenance enlivened by wit, or animated by feeling: a single instant is sufficient to dispel the charm: often without apparent cause, sensation and motion cease at once; the body loses its warmth, the eyes their lustre, and the lips and cheeks become livid. These, as Cuvier observes, are but preludes to changes still more hideous. The colour passes successively to a blue, a green, and a black; the flesh absorbs moisture, and while one part of it escapes in pestilential exhalations, the remaining part falls down into a putrid liquid mass. In a short time no part of the body remains, but a few earthy and saline principles; its other elements being dispersed through air, or carried off by water, to form new combinations, and afford food for other animals.
The human body has been defined to be a machine composed of bones and muscles, with their proper appendages, for the purpose of motion, at the instance of its intelligent principle. From this principle, nerves, or instruments of sensation, are likewise detached to the various parts of the body, for such information as may be necessary to determine it to those motions of the body, which may conduce to the happiness of the former, and the preservation of both.
It may perhaps be objected to this definition, that the body consists of other parts besides bones, muscles, and nerves; this is undoubtedly true; but, if we examine more minutely, we shall find that all the other parts, as well as functions of the body, seem only to be subservient to the purposes I have mentioned. For, in the first place, the muscles which are necessary to the motions of the body, are, from the nature of their constitution, subject to continual waste; to repair which waste, some of the other functions have been contrived.
Secondly, most of the other parts and functions of the body, are either necessary to the action of the muscles, or to the operation of the intelligent principle, or both.
Lastly, from the sensibility, and delicate structure, of the muscles and nerves, they require to be defended from external injuries: this is done by membranes, and other contrivances, fitted for the purpose.
To see this more clearly, we shall examine a little more particularly how each of the functions is subservient to the muscular and nervous systems. For this purpose it may be observed, 1st. that the stomach and digestive faculties serve to assimilate the food, or convert it into matter proper to repair the continual waste of solids and fluids. The circulation of the blood besides being absolutely necessary, as we shall afterwards see, to the action of the muscles, distributes the nourishment, thus assimilated and prepared by the stomach, to all parts of the body. The different glands separate liquors from the blood, for useful, but still for subservient purposes. Thus the salivary glands, stomach, pancreas, and liver, separate juices necessary to the proper digestion and assimilation of the food. The kidneys serve to strain off from the blood the useless and superfluous water, salts, &c. which if allowed to remain in the body would be very injurious to it.
We shall afterwards see, that the nerves are not only instruments of sensation, but the origin of motion; it being immediately by their means that the muscles are moved. A certain degree of heat is necessary to keep the blood fluid, and also to the action of the nerves; without either of which, no motion could be performed. Respiration or breathing is so necessary to life, that it cannot exist, even a few minutes, without the exercise of that function; and yet we shall afterwards see, that the ultimate end of respiration is to keep the body in a proper state, for the purposes of muscular motion and sensation.
The skin serves like a sheath to defend the body from injuries; the skull serves the same purpose to the brain, which is the origin of the nerves. The different membranes separate the fibres, muscles, nerves, and various organs of the body, from each other. Hence we see that there is no impropriety, in calling the human body a machine composed of bones and muscles, with their proper appendages, for the purpose of motion, at the instance of its intelligent principle.
In order to show more clearly how each part is subservient to these ends, I shall give a short account of the structure of the human body, but I must premise, that the nature of this course will prevent my entering minutely into anatomical detail. All that can be done is, to give such a general outline of anatomy and physiology, as will furnish individuals with so much knowledge of themselves, as may enable them to guard against habitual sickness.
Among the solid parts of the human frame the bones stand conspicuous. Their use is, to give firmness and shape to the body. Some of them likewise serve as armour, or defense, to guard important parts; thus the skull is admirably contrived to defend the brain; and the spine or backbone is designed, not only to strengthen the body, but to shield that continuation of the brain, called the spinal marrow, from whence originate great numbers of nerves, which pass through convenient openings of this bone, and are distributed to various parts of the body. In the structure of this, as well as every other part, the wisdom of the Creator is manifest. Had it been a single bone, the loins must have been inflexible; to avoid which, it consists of a number of small bones, articulated or joined together with great exactness, which are strengthened by compact ligaments. Hence it becomes capable of various inflections, without injuring the nerves, or diminishing that strength which is so much required.
The whole system of bones, or skeleton, is constructed of several parts, of different shapes and sizes, joining with one another in various manners, and so knit together, as best to answer to the motions which the occasions of the animal may require.
These bones serve as levers for the muscles to act on; which last serve as mechanical powers, to give the machine various motions, at the command of the will.
The muscles are fleshy fibres, attached by their extremities to the bones. When the fibres shorten themselves, the two parts into which the muscle is inserted are brought nearer; and, by this simple contrivance, all the motions of animals are performed, and their bodies carried from one place to another.
Joints are provided with muscles for performing the motions for which they are adapted; every muscle pulling the bone, to which it is attached, in its own particular direction. Hence the muscles may be considered as so many moving forces, as was before hinted; and their strength, the distance of their insertion from the centre of motion, the length of the lever to which they are attached, and the weight connected with it, determine the duration and velocity of the motions which they produce. Upon these different circumstances depend the different kinds of motion performed by various animals, such as the force of their leap, the extent of their flight, the rapidity of their course, and their address in catching their prey.
Most of the muscles act upon the bones, so as to produce the effects of a lever of the third kind, as it is termed by mechanics, where the power acts between the centre of motion and the weight; hence it has a mechanical disadvantage; as an instance of this, the muscle which bends the forearm, is inserted about one eighth or one tenth of the distance from the centre of motion that the hand is, where the weight or resistance is applied; hence the muscle must exert a force eight or ten times greater than the weight to be raised. But this disadvantage is amply compensated by making the limbs move with greater velocity; besides, if room had been given for the muscles to act with greater advantage, the limbs must have been exceedingly deformed and unwieldy.1
The muscles, in general, at least those which serve for voluntary motion, are balanced by antagonists, by means of which they are kept beyond their natural stretch. When one of two antagonists is contracted by the will, the other relaxes in order to give it play; or at least becomes overpowered by the contraction of the first. Also when one of such muscles happens to be paralytic, the other being no longer balanced, or kept on the stretch, immediately contracts to its natural length, and remains in that situation. The part to which it is fixed will, of course, be affected accordingly. If one of the muscles which move the mouth sideways be destroyed, the other immediately contracting, draws the mouth awry; and in that situation it remains. The same may be observed of the leg, the arm, and other parts. Some muscles assist one another in their action, while others have different actions; according to their shapes, the course of their fibres, and the structure of the parts they move.
According to the shape and nature of the bones to be moved, and of the motions to be performed, the muscles are either long, or short; slender, or bulky; straight, or round. Where a great motion is required, as in the leg, or arm, the muscles are long; where a small motion is necessary, they are short; for a strong motion they are thick, and for a weak one slender.
Some of the muscles are fastened to, and move bones; others cartilages, and others again other muscles, as may best suit the intention to be answered.
With respect to the bones, some are solid and flattened; others hollow and cylindrical. Every cylindrical bone is hollow, or has a cavity containing a great number of cells, filled with an oily marrow. Each of these cells is lined with a fine membrane, which forms the marrow. On this membrane, the blood vessels are spread, which enter the bones obliquely, and generally near their middle; from some branches of these vessels the marrow is secreted; while others enter the internal substance of the bones for their nourishment; and the reason why they enter the bones obliquely is, that they may not weaken them by dividing too many fibres in the same place.
The bones being made hollow, their strength is greatly increased without any addition to their weight; for if they had been formed of the same quantity of matter without any cavities, they would have been much weaker; their strength to resist breaking transversely being proportionate to their diameters, as is evident from mechanics.
All the bones, excepting so much of the teeth as are out of the sockets, and those parts of other bones which are covered with cartilages, are surrounded by a fine membrane, which on the skull is called pericranium, but in other parts periosteum. This membrane serves for the muscles to slide easily upon, and to hinder them from being lacerated by the hardness and roughness of the bones.
But though the apparatus which I have been describing is admirably contrived for the performance of motion; it would continue for ever inactive, if not animated by the nervous system.
The brain is the seat of the intelligent principle: from this organ, white, soft, and medullary threads, called nerves, are sent off to different parts of the body: some of them proceed immediately from the brain to their destined places, while the greater number, united together, perforate the skull, and enter the cavity of the backbone, forming what we call the spinal marrow, which may be regarded as a continuation of the brain. Portions of the spinal marrow pass through different apertures to all parts of the body.
We are not conscious of the impression of external objects on our body, unless there be a free communication of nerves, between the place where the impression is made and the brain. If a nerve be divided, or have a ligature put round it, sensation is intercepted.
There is perhaps only one sense which is common to all classes of animals, and which exists over every part of the surface of the body; I mean the sense of touch. The seat of this sense is in the extremities of the nerves distributed over the skin; and by means of it we ascertain the resistance of bodies, their figure, and their temperature.