The other senses have been thought to be only more refined modifications of the sense of touch; and the organs of each are placed near the brain on the external surface of the head. The sense of sight, for instance, is seated in the eye; the hearing in the ear; the smell in the internal membrane of the nose; and the taste in the tongue.
The light; the pulses, or vibrations of the air; the effluvia floating in the atmosphere; saline particles, or particles which are soluble in water or saliva, are the substances which act upon these four senses; and the organs which transmit their action to the nerves, are admirably adapted to the respective nature of each. The eye presents to the light a succession of transparent lenses to refract its rays; the ear opposes to the air membranes, fluids, and bones, well fitted to transmit its vibrations; the nostrils, while they afford a passage to the air in its way to the lungs, intercept any odorous particles which it contains, and the tongue is provided with spongy papillae to imbibe the sapid liquors which are the objects of taste.
It is by these organs that we become acquainted with what passes around us; by these we know that a material world exists. We may however observe, that the nervous system, besides making us acquainted with external things, gives us notice of many changes that take place within our own body. Internal pain warns us of the presence of disease; and the disagreeable sensations of hunger, thirst, and fatigue, are signs of the body standing in need of refreshment or repose.
Concerning the manner in which we become acquainted with external things, by means of the senses, we know nothing. Many hypotheses have been offered to explain this: none of them however are the result of experiment and observation. Many philosophers have supposed the universe to be filled with an extremely subtile fluid, which they have termed ethereal; and this hypothesis has been sanctioned by the illustrious authority of Newton. He however merely offered it in the modest form of a query, for the attention of other philosophers; little thinking that it would be made use of to explain phenomena which they did not understand. His query about a subtile elastic fluid pervading the universe, and giving motion and activity to inert masses of matter, and thereby causing the phenomena of attraction, gravitation, and many other appearances in nature, was immediately laid hold of by his followers, as a fact sufficiently supported, because it seemed to have the sanction of so great an authority.
This hypothesis was made use of to explain a great number of phenomena, and the physiologists, whose theories were generally influenced by the prevailing philosophy, eagerly laid hold of it to explain the phenomena of sensation, and muscular motion. When an impression was made upon any part of the external surface of the body, whether it was occasioned by heat, or mechanical impulse, they supposed, that the ether in the extremities of the nerves was set in motion. This motion, from the energy of the ether, is communicated along the nerves to the brain, and there produces such a change as occasions a consciousness of the original impression, and a reference in the mind to the place where it was made. Next they supposed, that the action of the will caused a motion of the ether to be instantly propagated along the nerves that terminate in the fibres of the muscles, which stimulated them to contraction.
Other philosophers imagined, that a tremulous motion was excited in the nerves themselves, by the action of external impulses, like the motions excited in the string of a harp. These motions they supposed to be propagated along the nerves of sense, to the brain, and from thence along the motory nerves, to the muscles.
Before they attempted this explanation of the phenomena, they should have proved the existence of such a fluid, or at least brought forward such circumstances, as rendered its existence credible. But supposing we grant them the hypothesis, it will, in my opinion, not avail much; for it is not easy to conceive how the motion of a subtile fluid, or the vibration of a nerve, can cause sensation.
Nor are the internal senses, as they are generally called, namely, memory, and imagination, any better explained on this supposition; for we cannot conceive how this nervous fluid is stored up and propelled by the will.
After all, I think we must confess, that this subject is still enveloped in obscurity. One observation is worth making, namely, that our sensations have not the smallest resemblance to the substance or impression, which causes them; thus the sensation occasioned by the smell of camphor, possesses not the smallest resemblance to small particles of camphor floating in the atmosphere; a sensation of pain has no similitude whatever to the point of a sword which occasions it; nor has the sensation of sound any resemblance to waves or tremors in the air. In our present state of knowledge, therefore, all that we can say, is, that nature has so formed us, that when an impression is made on any of the organs of sense, it causes a sensation, which forces us to believe in the existence of an external object, though we cannot see any connexion between the sensation and the object which produces it.
But though philosophers were certainly blameable for assuming an unknown cause, to account for various phenomena, yet later experiments would seem to prove that even the conjectures of Newton were not founded on slight grounds. His idea that the diamond was inflammable, has been confirmed by various experiments: and that there exists in nature a subtile fluid, capable of pervading with ease the densest bodies, the phenomena of electricity would seem to show, and some late experiments render it by no means improbable, that this fluid or influence, acts a conspicuous part in the nervous system. That it exists in great quantity in animal bodies, is evident on gently rubbing the back of a cat in the dark; and it would seem that, in some instances, it may be given out or secreted by the nerves. We shall afterwards see that the seat of vision is a delicate expansion of a large nerve which comes from the brain, and is spread out on the bottom of the eye; and flashes of light, or a kind of sparkling, is often seen to dart from the eyes of persons in high health, and possessed of much nervous energy. These luminous flashes are very apparent in the dark in some animals; such as the lion, the lynx, and the cat; and it is difficult to account for this appearance unless we suppose it electrical.
The experiments of Galvani and others, have however proved beyond all doubt, that this fluid, when applied to the nerves and muscles, is capable of exciting various sensations and motions. To produce this fluid by the application of two metals, it is necessary that one of them should be in such a situation, as to be easily oxidable, while the other is prevented from oxidation. If a piece of zinc be put into water, no change will take place; but if a piece of silver be put along with it, the zinc will immediately oxidate, by decomposing the water, and a current of electricity will pass through the silver. If the upper and under surfaces of the tongue be coated with two different metals, one of which is easily oxidable, and these be brought into contact, a sensation is produced resembling taste, which takes place suddenly, like a slight electrical shock. This taste may likewise be produced by applying one part of the metals to the tongue and the other to any part of the body deprived of the cuticle, and bringing them in contact.
The sensation of light may be produced in various ways; such as by applying one metal between the gum and the upper lip, and the other under the tongue; or by putting a silver probe up one of the nostrils, and a piece of zinc upon the tongue; a sensation resembling a very strong flash of light is perceived in the corresponding eye, at the instant of contact.
But the experiments which tend most strongly to prove what I have hinted, are made in the following manner. Lay bare a portion of a great nerve leading to any muscle or limb of an animal, for instance, the leg of a frog separated from the body. Touch the bared nerve with a piece of zinc, and the muscle with a piece of silver, and strong contractions take place the instant these metals are brought into contact. The same effect may be produced by placing a piece of silver on a larger piece of zinc, and putting a worm or a leech on the silver; in moving about, the instant it touches the zinc it is thrown into strong convulsions.
These phenomena have been clearly proved to be electrical; for by a number of pieces of these metals, properly disposed, strong shocks can be given, the electrometer can be affected, a Leyden vial charged, the electric spark seen, and combustible bodies inflamed.
Some animals likewise possess the power of accumulating this influence in a great degree; for instanc the torpedo, and electrical eel, which will both give strong shocks; and if the circuit have a small interruption a spark may be seen, as was shown by Mr. Walsh. On dissecting these fish, Mr. Hunter found an organ very similar to the pile of Volta; it consists of numerous membranaceous columns, filled with plates or pellicles, in the form of thin disks, separated from each other by small intervals, which intervals contain a fluid substance; this organ, like the pile of Volta, is capable of giving repeated shocks, even when surrounded by water.
It is not absolutely necessary to use two metals to produce the galvanic phenomena; for if one side of a metal be made to oxidate, while the other is prevented from oxidation, these appearances will still be produced. It is not indeed necessary to use any metal; for a piece of charcoal, oxidated in the same way, produces galvanism; so does fresh muscular fibre, and perhaps any substance capable of oxidation. The most striking circumstance in galvanism, is, that it accompanies oxidation, and is perhaps never produced without it. But oxidation is always going on in the body by means of respiration and the circulation of the blood. We shall afterwards find reason to believe, that the oxygen, received from the atmosphere by the lungs, is the cause of animal heat, and probably of animal irritability; and it is perhaps not unreasonable to suppose, that the nervous influence or electricity may be separated by the brain, and sent along the nerves, which seem the most powerful conductors of it, to stimulate the muscles to action.
What the nature of the electric fluid is, we are ignorant; some galvanic experiments have led me to suppose that it may be hydrogen, which when combined with caloric appears in the form of gas, but when pure, or perhaps in a different state, may be capable of passing through solid bodies in the form of electricity.
Having given this short view of the human body, considered as a machine composed of bones, muscles, and nerves, I shall proceed to state the different subjects which I shall consider in this course. It is extremely difficult to begin a course like this; for we must either enter abruptly into the middle, or the outset must be in some measure tedious and dry. I have chosen however rather to hazard the latter appellation, with respect to this lecture, than to enter more abruptly into the subject, in order to make it more entertaining. As we proceed, I trust you will feel an increasing interest in the subject; and, I think I may venture to promise, that this will be found the least entertaining lecture in the course. The subjects will be illustrated by experiments, in order to render the deductions more striking.
I shall next proceed to consider the phenomena of respiration, and animal heat; after which I shall explain the circulation of the blood; and the phenomena of digestion and nutrition. I shall then examine, more minutely than has been done in this lecture, the connexion of man with the external world, which will lead to a discussion of the different senses; vision, hearing, smelling, tasting, and feeling.
When these subjects have been discussed as fully as our time will allow, I shall examine, at considerable length, the manner in which the powers that support life, which have been improperly called by physiologists, the nonnaturals, act upon the body. This will naturally lead to a fuller explanation of the system which I have attempted to defend, in my lecture on health. And, after I have fully explained the laws by which the irritable principle is regulated, I shall proceed to show, how those variations from the healthy state, called diseases, are produced; I shall point out the difference that exists between the debility which is brought on by the diminished action of the powers which support life, and that which results from their too powerful action; I shall then inquire into the nature of diseases of increased excitement; and after having shown how the undue action of the powers which support life, operates in producing disease, I shall endeavour to lay down such rules for the preservation of health, as are the result of reasoning on these subjects, and are also confirmed by experience.
LECTURE II. RESPIRATION
In the last lecture I took a short view of the human body, as a moving machine, regulated by the will. We shall now proceed to examine some of its functions more particularly.
I need not tell any of my audience, how necessary air is to the living body; for every person knows that we cannot live when excluded from this fluid; but, before we can understand the manner in which it acts on the body, we must become acquainted with some of its properties.
That the air is a fluid, consisting of such particles as have little or no cohesion, and which slide easily among each other, and yield to the slightest force, is evident from the ease with which animals breathe it, and move through it. Indeed from its being transparent, and therefore invisible, as well as from its extreme tenuity, and the ease with which bodies move through it, people will scarcely believe that they are living at the bottom of an aerial ocean, like fishes at the bottom of the sea. We become, however, very sensible of it, when it flows rapidly in streams or currents, so as to form what is called a wind, which will sometimes act so violently as to tear up the strongest trees by the roots, and blow down to the ground the best and firmest buildings.
Some may still be inclined to ask, what is this air in which we are said to live? We see nothing; we feel nothing; we find ourselves at liberty to move about in any direction, without any hindrance. Whence then comes the assertion, that we are surrounded by a fluid, called air? When we pour water out of a vessel, it appears to be empty; for our senses do not inform us that any thing occupies the place of the water, for instance, when we pour water out of a vial. But this operation is exactly similar to pouring out mercury from a vial in a jar of water, the water gets in and supplies the place of the mercury; so does the air which supplies the place of the water; and this air will prevent water from rising, or filling a vessel which contains it.
Hence we see that air possesses similar appearances of impenetrability with other matter: for it excludes bodies from the space which itself occupies.
Air being therefore material must have weight; and we shall accordingly find, that a quart of it weighs about fifteen grains. But a quart of water weighs about two pounds; this fluid therefore is nearly a thousand times heavier than air.
But though air is so much lighter than water, yet, because it extends to a considerable height above the surface of the earth, it is evident, that it must press strongly on the surfaces of bodies. It is thought to extend nearly fifty miles above the surface of the earth, and must therefore press heavily on this surface. This may be evinced by different experiments, performed by means of the air pump.
Another property of the air, by which it is distinguished from most other fluids, is its elasticity. It may be compressed into a less space than it naturally occupies, and when the compressing force is removed, it expands to its former bulk, by its spring or elasticity. Indeed it is always compressed into less space than it would naturally occupy, by the weight of the superincumbent air.
The trachea, or windpipe, commences at the further end of the mouth, between the root of the tongue, and the passage into the stomach: its upper part is termed the larynx; it forms the projection in the fore part of the neck, which is more prominent in the male than the female: its opening is called the glottis, and is covered with a small valve, or lid, called the epiglottis, which is open while we breathe, but shuts when we swallow any thing, to prevent its getting into the lungs: sometimes, however, particularly when we attempt to speak at the time we swallow, a small portion of our food or drink gets into the larynx, and excites violent coughing until it is thrown back again.
The windpipe is composed of cartilaginous rings, covered with membrane, which keep it open: after having run downwards for the space of a few inches, it divides into two great branches, each of which is subdivided into a vast number of ramifications, ultimately terminating in little vesicles, which, when distended with air, make up the greatest part of the bulk of the lungs.
The cavity in which the lungs are contained is called the thorax, or chest: and is bounded by the ribs, and backbone or spine, and separated from the abdomen by a muscular membrane, called the diaphragm. The thorax, by the action of the diaphragm and intercostal muscles, is alternately enlarged and diminished. Suppose then the thorax to be in its least state; if it become larger, a vacuum will be formed, into which the external air will descend by its weight, filling and distending the vesicles of the lungs.
The thorax, thus dilated, is brought back to its former magnitude, principally by the relaxation of the muscles, which distended it, and the natural elasticity of the parts, aided by the contraction of the abdominal muscles; the thorax being thus diminished, a quantity of air is expelled from the lungs. The muscles which distend the thorax beginning again to act, the air reenters; and this alternate dilatation and contraction, is called respiration. The entrance of the air into the lungs, is termed inspiration, and its expulsion, expiration.
To form a more accurate idea of the manner in which respiration is performed, let us suppose this room to be filled with water. On enlarging the thorax, in the manner before mentioned, the water by its weight would rush in, and fill the newly formed void; and, upon the diminution of the capacity of the thorax, a part of this water would be expelled. Just in the same manner the air will alternately enter and be expelled from the lungs by this alternate dilatation and contraction of the thorax.
Respiration is a function of such consequence, that death follows if it is suspended for a few minutes only. By means of this function the blood is elaborated, and rendered fit to nourish the body; by means of it the system is, most probably, supplied with irritability; by means of it the nervous energy is, most likely, conveyed into the body, to be expended in sensation, and muscular motion. It appears, likewise, that in this way, animals are supplied with that heat which preserves their temperatures nearly the same, whatever may be the temperatures of surrounding bodies.
If any number of inanimate bodies, possessed of different degrees of heat, be placed near each other, the heat will begin to pass from the hotter bodies to the colder, till there be an equilibrium of temperature. But this is by no means the case with respect to animated matter; for whatever be the degree of heat peculiar to individual animals, they preserve it, nearly unchanged, in every temperature, provided the temperature be not altogether incompatible with life or health. Thus, we find, from experiments that have been made, that the human body is not only capable of supporting, in certain circumstances, without any material change in its temperature, a degree of heat considerably above that at which water boils; but it likewise maintains its usual temperature, whilst the surrounding medium is several degrees below frost.
It is evident, therefore, that animals neither receive their heat from the bodies which surround them, nor suffer, from the influence of external circumstances, any material alterations in that heat which is peculiar to their nature. These general facts are confirmed and elucidated by many accurate and well authenticated observations, which show, that the degree of heat in the same genus and species of the more perfect animals, continues uniformly the same, whether they be surrounded by mountains of snow, in the neighbourhood of the pole, or exposed to a vertical sun, in the sultry regions of the torrid zone.
This stability and uniformity of animal heat, under such a disparity of external circumstances, and so vast a latitude in the temperature of the ambient air, prove, beyond doubt, that the living body is furnished with a peculiar mechanism, or power of generating, supporting, and regulating its own temperature; and that this is so wisely adapted to the circumstances of its economy, or so dependent upon them, that, whatever be the temperature of the atmosphere, it will have very little influence either in diminishing or increasing that of the animal.
In order that we may see how this effect is produced, we must examine the chemical properties of the air. Previously to this, however, it will be necessary to point out briefly how bodies are affected, with respect to heat, when they change their form.
When a body passes from a state of solidity to that of fluidity, it absorbs a quantity of heat, which becomes chemically combined with it, and insensible to the touch or the thermometer; in the same manner, when it passes from a fluid state to that of vapour or gas, it combines with a still larger quantity of heat, which remains latent in it, so long as it continues in the state of gas, but when it returns to the liquid or solid state, it gives out the heat which was combined with it, which, being set at liberty, flows into the surrounding bodies, and augments their temperature.
This is evinced by the conversion of ice into water, and of water into steam; and by the return of steam into water. It is evinced likewise by the evaporation of ether, and by numberless other experiments.
Modern chemistry has shown that the atmosphere is not a homogeneous fluid, but consists of two elastic fluids, endowed with opposite and different properties.
If a combustible body, for instance a candle, be confined in a given quantity of atmospheric air, it will burn only for a certain time; after it is extinguished, if another combustible body be lighted and immersed in the same air, it will not burn, but will immediately be extinguished.
It has been proved by chemical experiments, that in this instance, the combustible body absorbs that portion of the air which is fitted for combustion, but produces no change on that which is unfit: so that, according to this, the air of the atmosphere consists of two elastic fluids, one of which is capable of supporting combustion, and the other not; and that they exist in the proportion of one part of the former to three of the latter nearly.
These two parts may be separated from each other, and experiments made with them.
Many metals, and particularly manganese, when exposed to the atmosphere, attract the combustible air from it, without touching the other; and it may be procured from these metals by the application of heat, in very great purity.
Because this air is essential to the formation of acids, it has been called by chemists the acidifying principle, or oxygen gas.
On plunging a combustible body into the remaining air, it is instantly extinguished; an animal in the same situation is immediately deprived of life: from this latter circumstance this air has been called azote, or azotic gas. If we take three parts of azote and one of oxygen, and mix them together, we shall form an air in every respect similar to that of the atmosphere.
If I plunge a piece of iron, previously heated, into oxygen gas, it will burn with great brilliancy, the gas will be diminished in quantity, and the iron augmented in weight, and this increase of weight in the metal will be in proportion to the oxygen which has disappeared: at the same time a great quantity of heat is given out. This is the heat which was combined with the oxygen in the state of gas, and which now becomes free, when the oxygen becomes solid and joins with the iron.