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WEBSTER'S COMPLETE DICTIONARY
OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, AND GENERAL BOOK
OF LITERARY REFERENCE. With 3000 Illustrations. Tho
roughly revised and improved by Chauncey A. Goodrich, D.D.,-
LL.D., and Noah Porter, D.D., of Yale College,
In One Volume, Quarto, strongly bound in cloth, 1840 pages, price £1 11.8. €d.m, half-calf;, ¦
£2 ; calf or half-russia, £2 2s. ; rnssia, £2 10s.
Besides the matter comprised in the Webster's Guinea Dictionary, this
volume contains the following Appendices, which will show that no pains have
been spared to make it a complete Literary Reference-book.: — >

A Pronouncing Vocabulary of Scrip
ture Proper Names. By W. A. Wheeler,
M.A- Including a List of the Variations
that occur in the Douay version of the
Bible.
An Etymological Vocabulary of Mo
dem Geographical Names. By the Rev»
C. H. Wheeler. Containing:— i. A List
of Prefixes, Terminations, and Formative
Syllables in various Languages, with their
meaning and derivation ; n. A brief List
of Geographical Names (not explained by
the foregoing List),, with their derivation
and signification, all doubtful and obscure
derivations being excluded.
Pronouncing Vocabularies of Modern
Geographical and Biographical Names.
By J. Thomas, M.D.
A Pronouncing Vocabulary of Com
mon English Christian Names, with their
derivations, signification, and diminutives
(or nick-names), and their equivalents in
several other languages.
A Dictionary of Quotations. Selected
and translated by William G. Webster.
Containing all Words, Phrases, Proverbs,
and Colloquial Expressions from the
Greek, Latin, and Modern Foreign Lan
guages, which are frequently met with in
literature and conversation.
A List of Abbreviations, Contrac
tions, and Arbitrary SignB used, in Writing
and Printing,*
A Classified Selection of Pictorial
Illustrations. (10 pages). With references
to the text. .
"The cheapest Dictionary ever. published, as it is confessedly one of the best. The intro
duction of small woodcut illustrations of technical and scientific lerms adds greatly to tho
utility of the Dictionary.*'— Ohwchmam. *

A Brief History of the English Lan
guage. By Professor James Hadley.
This Work shows the Philological Rela
tions of the English Language, and traces
the progress and influence of the causes
which have brought it to its present con
dition.
Principles of Pronunciation. By
Professor Goodrich and W. A. Wheeler,
M.A Including a Synopsis of Words
differently pronounced by different au
thorities.
A Short Treatise on Orthography.
By Abthub W. Wright. Including a
Complete List of Words that are spelt it
two or more ways.
An Explanatory and Pronouncing
Vocabulary of the Names of Noted Fic
titious Persons and" Places, &t» By W. A.
Wheeler, MA. This Work includes not
only persons and places noted in Fiction,
whether narrative, poetical, or dramatic,
but Mythological and Mythical names,
names referring to the Angelology and De-
monology of various races, and those
found in the romance writerB ; Pseu
donyms, Nick-names of eminent persons
and parties, Jfec., &c In fact, it is best
described as explaining every name which
is not strictly historical. _ A reference.ie
given to the originator of each name, and
where the origin is unknown a quotation
is given to some well-known writer in
which the word occurs.
This valuable Work may also be had
separately, post Bvo., 5s.
A Pronouncing Vocabulary of Greek
and Latin Proper Names. By Professor
Thachek, of Yale College.

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WEBSTER'S DICTIONARY.

From the Quarterly Eeview, Oct. 1873.
' " Seventy years passed before Johnson was followed by Webster, an
American writer, who faced the task of the English Dictionary with a
full appreciation of its requirements, leading to better practicalresults."
. • • •
" His laborious comparison of twenty languages, though never pub
lished, bore fruit in his own mind, and his training placed him both in
knowledge and judgment far in advance of Johnson as a philologist.
Webster's ' American Dictionary of the English Language ' was pub
lished in 1828, and of course appeared at once in England, where
successive re-editing has as yet kept it in tlie highest place as a practical
Dictionary." " The acceptance of an American Dictionary in England has itself
had immense effect in keeping up the community of speech, to break
which would be a grievous harm, not to English-speaking nations
alone, but to mankind. The result of this has been that the common
Dictionary must suit both sides of the Atlantic", ....
" The good average business-like character of Webster's Dictionary,
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Professor Goodrich's edition of 1847 is not much more than enlarged
and amended, but other revisions since have so much novelty of plan
as to be described" as distinct works." ....
" The American revised Webster's Dictionary of 1864, published in
America and England, is of an altogether higher order than these last
[The London Imperial and Student's]. It "bears on its title-page the
names of Drs. Goodrich and Porter, but inasmuch as its especial im
provement is in the etymological department, the care of which was
committed to Dr. Mahn, of Berlin, we prefer to describe it in short as
the Webster-Mahn Dictionary. Many other literary men, among them
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good modern authorities."
" On the whole, the Webster-Mahn Dictionary as it stands is most
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THE BRIDGEWATER TREATISES
ON THE
POWER, WISDOM, AND GOODNESS OF GOD.

THE HAND; its MECHANISM and VITAL ENDOWMENTS,
AS EVINCING DESIGN.
By SIR CHARLES BELL, K.G.H., F.R.S.

U?

1 ^h ''>

THE HAND;
JTS MECHANISM AND VITAL ENDOWMENTS,
AS EVINCING DESIGN AND ILLUSTRATING THE
POWER, WISDOM. AND GOODNESS OF GOD,
BY
SIR CHARLES BELL, K.G.H., F.R.S.

PRECEDED BY AN ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR'S DISCOVERlEi
IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM,

ALEXANDER SHAW,
SURGEON TO THE MIDDLESEX HOSPITAL.

EIGHTH' EDITION.

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GEORGE BELL AND SONS, YORK STREEj,
COVENT GARDEN.

i87S-

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PBINTED BY WrLLIAM CLOWES AND SONS,
STAMFOKD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.

PREFACE.

When one has to maintain an argument, he will be listened to
more willingly if he is known to be unbiassed, and to express
his natural sentiments. The reflections contained in these
pages have not been suggested by the occasion of the Bridge-
water Treatises, but arose, long ago, in a course of study
directed to other objects. An anatomical teacher, himself
aware of the higher bearings of his science, can hardly neglect
the opportunity which the demonstrations before him afford,
of making an impression upon the minds of those youn^ men
who, for the most part, receive the elements of their profes
sional education from him ; and he is naturally led to indulge
in such trains of reflection as will be found in this essay.
So far back as the year 1813, the late excellent vicar of
Kensington, Mr Rennell, attended, the author's lectures, and
found him engaged" in maintaining the principles of the
English school of Physiology, and in exposing the futility of
the opinions of those French philosophers and physiologists,
who represented life as the mere physical result of certain
combinations and actions of parts, by them termed Organisa
tion.

vi PREFACE.
That gentleman thought the subject admitted of an argu
ment which it became him to use, in his office of " Christian
Advocate."* This will show the reader that the sentiments
and the views, which a sense of duty to the young men about
him induced the author to deliver, and which Mr Bennell
heard only by accident, arose naturally out of those studies.
It was at the desire of the Lord Chancellor Brougham that
the author wrote the essay on "Animal Mechanics;" and it
was probably from a belief that the author felt the importance
of the subjects touched upon in that essay, that his Lordship
was led to do him the further honour of asking him to join
with him in illustrating the " Natural Theology " of Dr Paley.
That request was especially important, as showing that the
conclusions to which the author had arrived were not the
peculiar or accidental suggestions of professional feeling, nor
of solitary study, which is so apt to lead to enthusiasm ; but
that the powerful and masculine mind of Lord Brougham was
directed to the same objects ; that he, who in early life was
distinguished for his successful prosecution of science, and
who has never forgotten her interests amidst the most arduous
and active duties of his high station, encouraged and partook
of these sentiments.
Thus, from at first maintaining that design and benevolence
were everywhere visible in the natural world, circumstances
have gradually drawn the author to support these opinions
more ostentatiously and elaborately than was his original wish.
The subject which he has to illustrate in this volume, belongs
to no definite department ; and is intermediate between those
* An office in the University of Cambridge.

PREFACE. vii
sciences which have been assigned to others. The conception
which he has formed of its execution is, that setting out as
from a single point, he should enlarge his survey, and show the
extent of the circle, and the variety of subjects, upon which it
bears ; thence deducing the conclusion, that as there is a rela
tion of one part to the whole, there must be a system, and
universal design.
The author cannot conceal from himself the disadvantages
to which he is exposed in coming before the public, not only
with a work in some measure extra-professional, but with
associates distinguished by classical elegance of style, as well
as by science. He must entreat the reader to remember that
he was, early and long, devoted to the study of anatomy ; and
with a feeling (right or wrong) that it surpassed all others in
interest and usefulness. This made him negligent of acquire
ments which would have better fitted him for the honourable
association in which he has been placed : and no one can feel
more deeply that the suggestions which occur in the intervals
of an active professional life must always be unfavourably con
trasted with what comes of the learned leisure of a College.
The author has to acknowledge his obligations to His Grace
the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of London, and the
late President of the Royal Society, for having assigned to
him a task of so much interest. When he undertook it, he
thought only of the pleasure of pursuing these investigations,
and perhaps too little of what the public were entitled to ex
pect from an Essay composed in circumstances so peculiar, and
forming a part in this " great argument."
Brook Street, 1832.

Note. — The fourth edition of this Treatise was the last
revised by the Author himself. In that which followed, upon
permission having been kindly granted, some extracts were
introduced from the two works noticed in the Preface. These
are marked by being contained within brackets. To the
present edition there has been prefixed a general Account of
the Author's Discoveries in the Nervous System.
ALEXANDER SHAW.
Cavendish Square, 1860,

CONTENTS.

An Account of the Author's Discoveries in the Nervous
System ....

r-A^ifi

x;

CHAPTER L
Object of the Volume . i
• » • • i
CHAPTER IL
Definition of the Hand  . 10
CHAPTER IIL
Comparative Anatomy of the Hand  30
CHAPTER TV.
Of the Muscles of the Arm and Hand  81
CHAPTER V.
The Substitution of other Organs for the Hand ... 94
CHAPTER VI.
The Argument Pursued  105
CHAPTER VIL
Of Sensibility and, Touch  120

x CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VIII.
Of the Senses generally

PAGE 135

CHAPTER IX.
Of the Muscular Sense  "'
CHAPTER X
The Hand not the Source of Ingenuity, but adapted to
Man's Superiority  160

APPENDIX.— ADDITIONAL ILLUSTRATIONS.
The Mechanical Properties of the Animal Body Considered 175
Of the Solid Structure of Animal Bodies — Substitutes
for the True Skeleton  1 82
On the Position of the Head of Animals, and its Relation
to the Spine ; to illustrate the Proposition, that all
parts of the Skeleton are correlated, in adaptation
to their Functions  203
Imaginary Animals  227
Appropriate Sensibilities induce Combined Muscular Ac
tions, for the Protection of the Vital Organs . . 230
Comparison of the Eye with the Hand  243

AN
ACCOUNT OF TEE AUTHOK'S DISCOVERIES
IN
THE NEKVOUS SYSTEM.
By ALEXANDER SHAW.

In the following Treatise, especially in the fifth and seventh
Chapters, and the Appendix, there is frequent reference to
the distinct qualities of the Nerves, in illustration of the pro
perties of the Hand. But the Author has only alluded dis
tantly to the original inquiries which he himself pursued in the
Nervous System. The Discoveries for which Physiology is in
debted to him, in that branch, are among the most valuable that
have at any time been made. In the fundamental changes they
have wrought on the theories held upon the subject, they are on
a par with the Discovery of the Circulation of the Blood by
Harvey. It may, therefore, be an appropriate introduction to
this Volume, to give a brief account of the principal results of
his researches.
When the author commenced his investigations, the subject
of the functions of the Brain and Nerves was involved in great
darkness. The extent of ignorance may be judged of, when it
is stated that the distinction between the nerve which gives
Motor power to the muscles, and the nerve which conveys Sen
sation from the skin, had not at that time been ascertained.
The opinion universally held was, that the nerves generally, to
whatever part of the body they were distributed, possessed not
only those two properties, but various other less clearly-defined
ones ; all of which, it was supposed, were obtained promiscu
ously from the brain, which was regarded as a common central
source of every imaginable nervous endowment. And we may

xii AN ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR'S
perceive that those who held that view, of motor power and
sensation belonging conjointly to the same nerve, did not con
sider it impossible for two kinds of nervous influence, essen
tially distinct from each other, to be conveyed along its fibrils,
one taking one direction, and the other a direction exactly
opposite, at the same instant ; for it cannot be doubted that
the nervous agency which excites the muscles proceeds out
wardly from the brain, or centrifugally ; while that which com
municates sensation proceeds inwardly, or centripetally.
We may be surprised that a view which appears now so in.
congruous should have held its ground so long. Yet there is a
fact which will assist in accounting for the error. The body
generally, from head to foot, is supplied, with scarcely an ex
ception, by the extensive series of " Spinal nerves." Now n
happens that every one of that numerous class possesses the
power of bestowing both motion and sensation. For example,
if any nerve whatever that goes to the arm or leg be cut across,
the immediate effect will be total loss of both functions in the
part corresponding to the distribution of the nerve. Accord
ingly, when physiologists observed the same effects constantly
produced by such experiments, they naturally concluded that
the two properties were inseparably united in every nerve.
As an additional source of deception, it may be mentioned,
that if a nerve be removed from the body, and its internal
structure carefully examined, the thread-like fibrils of which it
is composed will all appear exactly alike ; nothing will be found
in their size, colour, or texture, to indicate that there should be
any difference in their functions.
It is to Sir Charles Bell that physiology is indebted for the
overthrow of those erroneous opinions, and for the discovery
of the true principle of investigating the functions of the ner
vous system. To him the honour is exclusively due of having
demonstrated, for the first time, that the nerve of Motion is
distinct from the nerve of Sensation ; and that when a nerve,
apparently simple, possesses both properties, it is a sign that it
is really compound, and consists of fibrils derived from distinct
divisions of the brain or spinal cord. Beyond that, with the aid
of the new principle referred to, he solved other difficult problems
which the study of the anatomy presented as important objects
of inquiry.

DISCOVERIES IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM xiii
Of the Distinction between Nerves of Motion and Sensation,
The process of investigation by which the author made the pre
eminently great discovery, that the nerve of Motion is distinct
from that of Sensation, may be briefly explained. It commenced
in his holding certain original views concerning the functions
of the principal centres of the nervous system. He opposed
the prevalent opinion, that the same common properties be
longed indiscriminately to all parts of the Brain and Spinal
cord. He conceived that, however undefined and irregular
were the various subdivisions of these important organs, and
however assimilated in structure, so as apparently to forbid
the notion of their having any essential differences between
them, they were, in fact, centres of distinct kinds of nervous
agency; but that all were subject to a connecting and presiding
influence exercised by the Brain as a whole.
Now, from this theory, of inferior organs, each endowed with
a distinct power, being contained within the brain and spinal
cord, the author was led to take a corresponding new view of
tho functions of the nerves. He conceived that each of those
nerves which arose from a distinct organ, would possess the
power of conveying to or from the body the particular influence
with which the organ itself was endowed.
Accordingly, a method of ascertaining the functions of the
nerves, never before thought of by physiologists, was suggested
to his mind. Heretofore, the only attempts made to distinguish
their uses had been by performing experiments on the trunks
of the nerves at a distance from their origins, and where they
had formed frequent connexions, in their course, with numerous
others coming from totally different parts of the brain. But
the mode he adopted, and which was the key to all his disco
veries, was that of examining the nerves at their roots — close, that
is to say, to the divisions of the brain, or of the spinal cord,
from which they took their rise.*
The first nerves to which he applied that original method of
research were those just adverted to as conferring motion and
sensation conjointly, viz., the Spinal nerves. After a time, he
carried his inquiries into the nerves of the Brain ; and prose-
* Idea of a New Anatomy of the Brain. 1811.

xiv AN ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR'S
cuted them in a similar manner, by taking their origins as his
guides. By thus extending his observations to both these
organs, he gained the important advantage of comparing with
each other various nerves which differed essentially in the
number and structure of their roots, and of elucidating the
functions of the one kind by contrast with the others.
If a Spinal nerve be taken anywhere in its course through the
*>ody, and traced backwards to its source in the Spinal cord,
it will be found that, when it gets near the organ, it spEts into
two sets of fibrils, of equal size, called its " roots." On further
examination, each root will be seen to dip into a division of the
cord, circumscribed by distinct boundaries, termed a " column."
One of these columns being situated at the back of the organ,
the root connected with it obtains the name "posterior;" and
a rounded body, of a reddish hue, called a " ganglion," is formed
upon this posterior root. The fibrils of the other root are
directed forwards and lost in the substance of a column situ
ated in front, whence it is called "anterior;" and is distin
guished from its fellow in not having a ganglion.
Encouraged by the observation of these marked differences in
the roots to suppose that his theory was well founded, and that
the one would be found to have a distinct function from the
other, he felt justified in putting his views to the test of experi
ment, by exposing the spinal cord with its roots in a living
animal, and dividing, or irritating them, in succession. Accord
ingly he proceeded to perform that operation ; and the results
realised his anticipations. They proved decidedly that the " an
terior" root was distinct in its functions from the "posterior."
But here it must be stated that the author was not satisfied
to rest his conclusions upon the particular functions of these
roots on experiments confined to them alone. His final views
were formed by associating the results obtained through them
with others derived from experiments, presently to be described,
on the nerves of the Brain.
The principal fact in regard to the spinal nerves, which he
was sure of having fully established, was that the power of giv
ing motion is exclusively the property of the "anterior" roots.
Each time these were pinched, a convulsive action of those
muscles which correspond to the distribution of the nerves ex
perimented upon took place, leaving no doubt of the cause of

DISCOVERIES IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. xv
the movement : but a similar effect could not be produced by
any amount of irritation applied to the "posterior" roots.
It might have been thought that when the author had thus
decidedly shown that the "anterior" roots bestowed motor
power, he would have concluded at once that the remaining
function of the nerves, sensation, belonged to the " posterior "
roots. But such was not his course of proceeding. He was
convinced, that for determining the seat of a power of the nature
of sensation, direct experiments on the nerves of the spine could
not alone be depended upon. To comprehend the grounds of
his want of confidence, we have merely to reflect on the peculiar
character of the experiments. Necessarily, they are of a violent
and painful description. They involve, first, the making of
long and deep incisions through the skin and muscles of the
back ; the next proceeding is that of forcibly breaking into the
narrow bony canal situated in the centre of the vertebral
column ; lastly, to expose the spinal cord and roots, the mem
branous sheath which immediately invests them has to be
extensively opened. Now, the unavoidable consequence of all
that severe operation is, that the animal, the subject of it, is
stunned, stupefied, and terrified. It is, therefore, in a condition
altogether unfit for drawing distinctions as to its capacity of
feeling, or not feeling, in connexion with manipulations made
by the experimenter on the particular roots at the depth of the
wound. Accordingly, before the author drew his final conclu
sion concerning the function of the "posterior" root — which
was decidedly that it conferred sensation — he had sought for
and obtained evidence of a perfectly reliable kind to confirm its
truth; his judgment was principally based on corroborative
proofs derived from experiments on nerves of the Brain, next
to be described.
When he proceeded to investigate the nerves of the Brain, his
attention was directed chiefly to the two nerves which have the
most extensive distribution of any in the head, viz., the " Portio-
dura" and the "Fifth."
Before describing the experiments made on these two nerves,
a brief account of the structure of the roots of each must be
given ; when it will be perceived that it would not have been
possible to have selected from the whole body any other nerves
better calculated to prove the soundness of his theory, and to

xvi AN ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR'S
demonstrate the distinction between the nerves of motion and
sensation. The Portio-dura is distinguished for its arising from the brain,
in remarkable contrast with the spinal nerves, by a single root
alone. In common with a series of other nerves, (to which I
shall presently refer,) it comes off from a circumscribed portion
of the base of the brain, by a root upon which there is no gang
lion. Having pierced the skull, it emerges on the face, in front
of the external ear, and lies there almost directly under the skin.
During its course it forms no important connexion with any
other nerve, so that it is as simple in its anatomical structure
at that part as when it had just arisen from the brain. The
nerve now subdivides into numerous branches : these take a
leap, as it were, across a particular class of muscles, those of
the jaws, to avoid them; and they are eventually distributed, in
the fore-part of the face, to the muscles which move the Features.
The Fifth is characterised by being the only nerve among
those of the brain which arises, like the spinal nerves, by two
distinct roots, each from an appropriate part of the organ ; and
not only are its roots double, but upon one of them is formed
a " ganglion " exactly Like the body of the same name on the
posterior roots of the nerves of the spine. Yet, although the
analogy here indicated cannot be doubted, a difference is to
be observed in the roots of the Fifth, which adds much to
the interest of examining its functions. In the spinal nerves
without exception, the two roots are of equal dimensions;
consequently, all the branches consist of the same number of
fibrils of each, and no distinction can be drawn between them.
But in the Fifth, the root upon which the ganglion is formed
is fully five times greater in size than the one which has no
ganglion. Hence it follows that, in the distribution of the
branches of the whole nerve, a large proportion belong exclu
sively to the " ganglionic " root, and a few only are composed
of the two roots joined together. It is also observed that the
branches prolonged directly and simply from the large root,
course to all the surfaces of the head,— the skin and sensi
tive membranes, where no muscles exist, — while those which
contain the fibrils of the lesser root can be traced to the group
of muscles which the Portio-dura had passed by, viz., the
muscles of the Jaws.

DISCOVERIES IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. xvii
The experiments performed by the author on the Portio-
dura, which goes to the features, were in their results most
decisive. To expose the nerve, he had to make only a small
incision, scarcely larger than that for venesection; and when
he cut it across, the effect was instantly visible. All the
muscles corresponding to the distribution of the nerve were
at once arrested in their motion — paralysed; but the sensi
bility of the skin was not in the smallest degree impaired.
Among other animals on which he performed the experiment
was the monkey; selected on account of the mobility and
activity of his features. Before the operation, the creature
was, of course, full of grinnings and grimaces at the liberties
taken with him : the moment that the Portio-dura was severed,
although his anger and jabberings did not cease, his face became
passive and expressionless, like a mask. It was thus incon-
testibly proved that the only function with which this nerve
is endowed, is the power of giving motion to the muscles.
The experiments which he next undertook were upon the
Fifth. And he chose, first, those branches that emerge upon the
face, at three distinct points, to supply the same parts to which
the Portio-dura is sent. Although he doubtlessly perceived
that, as motor power simply was conferred by that nerve, the
remaining function, sensation, would, almost certainly, be be
stowed by the only other distributed to the part, the Fifth, yet
he subjected the branches to the necessary experiments.
These branches have a particular interest attached to them,
from the mode of their origin. Each comes off directly from
the large, ganglionic root; and each pursues its course to its
appropriate part of the face, without forming a connexion
with any other nerve. The individual branches are, therefore,
true representatives of the root from which they arise. Again,
when they arrive at their' destinations, they are situated quite
superficially, being covered alone by skin ; and they can be ex
posed for experiment with the utmost facility. Accordingly,
experiments performed on these branches are essentially the
same in value for determining the function of the ganglionic
root, as if they had been made directly upon the root itself
within the cranium.
When these branches were cut across in a living animal, the
result expected was obtained. It was shown that their property
6

xviii AN ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR'S
was to bestow sensation; and that, in correspondence with
their arising simply from the single root, the " ganglionic," they
had no other function, and could not give motor power. When
divided, the skin of the animal could be freely pinched and
pricked without drawing forth any signs of feeling or pain. Yet,
although the part appeared thus dead, the movements were not
in the smallest degree directly affected : they were preserved
through the influence of the Portio-dura, which was entire.
The experiments now remaining to be performed were upon
those branches of the Fifth which are composed of the lesser,
" non-ganglionic " root, combined with some fibrils of the larger
root, and which are distributed wholly to the muscles of the
jaws. When these compound branches were cut across in a liv
ing animal, two effects were instantly produced : first, sensation
was destroyed in the surfaces to which the fibrils of the larger
root were distributed; secondly, all power of motion was im
mediately lost in the muscles of mastication. The jaw-bone
dropped, and could not be raised to bring the teeth together.
When the cut ends of the nerve were pinched by forceps, the
paralysed muscles acted with spasmodic suddenness; the jaw
closed with a snap ; and the fingers of the incautious assistant
being between the teeth, received a sharp bite.
The name which the author chose for expressing the double
nature of the functions of the Fifth, and the peculiar appropria
tion of its motor root, was the " Nerve of Sensation and Masti
cation." By these joint experiments on the two nerves of the brain,
the Portio-dura and Fifth, every proof that could be required
was furnished to demonstrate, in the most satisfactory manner,
that the nerves of motion are distinct from those of sensa
tion ; that the distinction bears direct relation to the roots by
which they arise respectively from the brain ; and that when
a nerve is found to possess both functions conjointly, it is a
sign that it is really double in structure — composed of fibrils, one
set of which come from an appropriate part of the brain that
bestows motion, and the other from a different part that confers
sensation. It now rests with me only to point the reader's attention to
the value of the observations on the two nerves of the brain just
described, in elucidating what was obscure regarding the func-

DISCOVERIES IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. xix
tions of the roots of the Spinal nerves. By the experiments on
the latter, it was indisputably shown that the "anterior" roots
were those which bestowed motor power. It was also observed
that they were destitute of ganglions : and as both the Portio-
dura, proved experimentally to be a nerve of motion, and the
lesser root of the Fifth, likewise proved to give motor power,
were unprovided with ganglions, it was seen to be character
istic of nerves of motion that they should be without these
appendages. Again, as to the "posterior" roots, on which the
ganglions are formed, it has been said that, owing to the vio
lence unavoidably inflicted in experimenting on the Spinal
nerves, evidence to be relied on could not be obtained to prove
that these were the roots of Sensation. But when the experi -
ments on the roots of the Fifth showed, in an unerring manner,
that the smaller, non-ganglionic root, analogous to the anterior
roots of the Spinal nerves, gave motor power alone, and that
the larger, ganglionic root, analogous to the posterior roots,
bestowed sensation, all doubt on the matter was removed; it
was concluded, most decidedly, that the function of the poste
rior roots of the Spinal nerves was to confer Sensation.

GENEEAL CLASSIFICATION OF THE NE11VES.
Having succeeded in establishing on a firm foundation the
important physiological truth — That the nerves of Motion are
distinct from those of Sensation — the author had made a most
valuable advance in our knowledge of the nervous system. But
he did not cease his labours at that point. By surveying the
nerves of the body generally, and observing the different modes
in which they arose from the subdivisions of the brain and spi
nal cord, on the one hand, and the appropriation of particular
kinds of nerves to distinct organs, on the other, he was led to
believe that such peculiarities of origin and distribution had an
important significance, — that they indicated distinctions in the
functions of the nerves additional to those which he had already
ascertained. In taking that extended view, two principal objects attracted
his notice, — First, he was particularly struck by the remarkable
manner in which the large series of Spinal nerves, with their

xx AN ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR'S
analogous nerve of the brain, the Fifth, arose from the central
organs, and passed to their destinations ; secondly, by the mode
in which another series, comparatively small, and formerly ad
verted to as represented by the Portio-dura, came off from a
limited portion of the brain, and was distributed to its appro
priate parts.
Attending to the series of Spinal nerves and Fifth. The
chief distinguishing characters of these nerves were, first, that
they all arose from the spinal cord and brain by two distinct
roots,— one of motion, the other of sensation. Secondly, that,
with an exception to be noticed presently, they were dis
tributed generally and promiscuously over the whole body.
Thus, with the reservation alluded to, these combined nerves
furnished to all members and regions of the frame the two
properties most essential for a nervous system to give. They
bestowed Sensation on the integuments and every other sensi
tive surface from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot,
together with Taste : they gave also motor power to the trunk,
the neck, and the upper and lower extremities. But here the ex
ception must be specified. It relates to the power of the Fifth
in giving motion. That nerve distributes its branches which
bestow sensation freely and without bounds to every part, in
ternal and external, of all the head ; but as a motor nerve, it
is confined exclusively to particular muscles — to those which
move the jaw in the act of Mastication. The author, as already
stated, had applied to it the name, Nerve of Sensation and.
Mastication. Accordingly, the general character to be assigned
to the series of Spinal nerves and Fifth was, first, that they be
stowed Sensation or Touch over the whole extent of the body,
without limit, and the sense of Taste in addition ; secondly, that
they bestowed Motor power, also without limit, upon every
region and member of the frame apart from the head, and upon
the muscles of mastication exclusively, in the head.
Next, attending to the smaller series of nerves, observed to
be opposed in various respects to those just mentioned. The
characters which chiefly distinguished them were, first, that
they arose, by single roots, from a defined and limited portion
of the brain, near its junction with the spinal cord, and were
capable of bestowing motor power alone; secondly, that they
were distributed solely to a particular region of the body, in-

DISCOVERIES IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. xxi
eluding the face, throat, neck, and chest. Again, it was re
marked that, instead of coursing to their respective destina
tions, like the Spinal nerves and Fifth, in a symmetrical
manner, by the shortest and straightest route, those nerves
proceeded in a devious and divergent way, crossing the paths
of the others, and terminating in organs already supplied with
nerves. In reference to the Portio-dura, the most conspicuous
of them, some peculiarities of a special kind were noticed.
The principal was the exclusiveness of its distribution to those
muscles of the face which move the Features. To reach these,
the nerve takes a long, winding route from behind : after
emerging in front of the ear, it is in close proximity to the
muscles of the jaws, and actually lies for a considerable part of
its course upon two of the largest ; but it declines sending a
single branch to these muscles : it pursues its way across them,
undiminished in size, to the muscles of the features beyond.
Again, it is remarkable that these muscles, to which the Portio-
dura thus goes circuitously, have large branches of the Fifth,
not less than three on each side, distributed freely in the midst
of them; but they come off from the ganglionic root alone,
have no fibrils of the motor root joined to them, and bestow
sensation exclusively. Accordingly, the peculiarities of the
Portio-dura may be summed up by saying, that it avoids con
tributing branches, which it could easily have done, to the
muscles of the jaws, and exhausts itself altogether on the
muscles of the features.
These were the observations which led the author to believe
that some important distinctions would be found to exist be
tween the two series of nerves whose peculiarities have been
thus shortly set forth. The theory which he advanced to solve
the problems it will be my endeavour to lay before the reader,
in as brief a space as can be done. And I may premise by stat
ing that it involved an examination of the development of the
Nervous System through the whole members of the animal
kingdom. First the author conceived that a class, formed of the Spinal
nerves and Fifth, and to which he applied the term " Original
System," ministered to organs, and bestowed nervous endow
ments, essential for the existence and well-being of creatures of

xxii AN ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR'S
every grade, high and low, in the animal kingdom. Secondly,
that an additional class, of which the Portio-dura was a type,
and to which he gave the name "Respiratory System," was
needed only by those animals, near or at the summit of the
scale, in which the organ of Respiration had become adapted,
by successive changes of structure, to be the instrument of
Voice, and, in Man, also of Speech and Expression.

Original System of Nerves.
I It has just been said that the author conceived that the
Spinal nerves and Fifth were the representatives, in the higher
animals and man, of a class common to them and to all below
them — a class which ministered to functions and endowments
required equally by animals in general. The mode in which he
endeavoured to establish that view was the following. He
sought, in the first place, to ascertain the primary objects for
which, in the construction of an animal, a nervous system was
originally demanded ; and in the next place, having satisfied
himself concerning that point, to learn whether these objects
could be secured, or the necessary functions of an animal be
provided for, by a class of nerves furnished with the powers
that belong to the Spinal nerves and Fifth.
In order to learn what may be the requirements, in animals
generally, which make the introduction of a nervous system
into their bodies necessary, he directed his observations to the
contrast between members of the Vegetable kingdom, which
are destitute of a nervous system, and those of the Animal
kingdom, in which it first appears. It is a well-known fact
in zoology, that the transition between beings of the two
kingdoms is so gradual, that it has always been a source
of dispute, in treating of those which reside on the confines,
whether particular individuals were the subjects of the one
or of the other realm. But looking on the subject differently,
the question may be properly asked — What are the generally-
pervading characters of a Vegetable, viewed in the abstract, as
contrasted with those of an Animal, viewed similarly in the
abstract 1
Now, the cardinal difference between the Vegetable, on the

DISCOVERIES IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. xxiii
one hand, and the Animal on the other, is, that the former
is a stationary organism, the latter locomotive. In other
words, the vegetable obtains its nourishment and lives by
means of roots which bind it prisoner to one place. The ani
mal has to shift its locality, seize its food, and, after due pre
paration in the mouth, convey it into the interior of its body.
When the aliment has been swallowed, it is true that the pro
cesses of assimilation, and of otherwise dealing with it, are
analogous in both. But the characteristic distinction between
them remains — that the one is fixed, the other moveable.
Accordingly, a new question arises : — An organised body, de
pendent for its subsistence on nourishment which it must pro
cure by voluntarily going in quest of it, being given, what
organs and properties must it possess to qualify it for that
mode of existence ?
The following series of parts appears indispensable : —
First : — Organs of Locomotion — including all varieties of in
struments by which animals can change their localities — as Legs,
or inferior substitutes for them.
Secondly: — Organs of Prehension — including all varieties of
instruments by which animals can seize and secure their prey,
or other food — as Arms and Hands, or inferior substitutes for
them. Thirdly : — Organs of Mastication — including all varieties of
instruments by which animals can triturate,and reduce the food
to a fit condition for being swallowed and conveyed into the
stomach — as Jaws armed with Teeth, or their inferior substitutes.
All the above instruments are speciaMy characteristic of
Animal, as contrasted with vegetable organisation. Each also
may be conceived to exist as an independent structure.
But owing to the variety of positions, habits, and instincts
of animals, and their obtaining nourishment from infinitely
diversified sources, the different organs present themselves in
the most multifarious forms. In animals lowest in the scale,
slightly removed from vegetables, the instruments are so fused,
by mutual interchange of offices, into one another, that it is dif
ficult to recognise the identity of each: the prehensile organ
will be found acting in aid of the locomotive, and the manduca
tory it may be, in combination with both. But as animals
progressively rise in the scale, a gradual departure from that

xxiv AN ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR'S
community of office is observed : each organ becomes disembar
rassed of the duties of the others, and performs its own particu
lar function alone. At length, when the animal organisation
has reached its highest point of development in Man, we find
Locomotion executed exclusively by its appropriate members —
the Lower Extremities : Prehension executed exclusively by its
appropriate members — the Upper Extremities : and Mastication
by its appropriate instruments— Jaws and Teeth.
And here it may be observed, that, when the Lower Extremi
ties, by their perfect construction as implements of locomotion,
have emancipated the Upper Extremities from sharing in pro
gression, so that the Hand and Arm are independent, and
available for all acts of prehension, the Jaws and Teeth cease to
be employed for seizing and holding. The mouth is exempt
from performing any other duty but that of Mastication. Con
sequently, the bones of the face, jaws, and teeth admit of being
reduced in dimensions : and the cavity of the mouth adapted,
in size and form, to be an important part of the organ of
Voice and Speech, in relation to man's highest endowment —
his Mind.
Such being the association of organs necessary for the con
struction of an Animal, viewed in the abstract, the question
next arises — How is the mechanism to be animated ; or, what
must be the combined properties of a Nervous System, de
signed to meet the wants of the organism 1 By following that
inquiry, we may be led to ascertain what is the most element
ary form of a System of Nerves.
In the simplest view that can be taken of a nervous system,
we must suppose the existence, in some part of it, of a central
organ, corresponding to the Brain in the highest animals ; an
organ from which motor power may be transmitted to the
muscles, and to which one or more senses may be conveyed
from the surface. It is also reasonable to assume, however
difficult it may be to prove the fact anatomically, that in the
elementary brain the particular structure which initiates motor
influence will be different from that which receives impres
sions from the senses.
With the doubly-constituted organ thus introduced, it must
be supposed that nerves will be provided as media of commu
nication— one set for giving Motion, and the other for giving

DISCOVERIES IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. xxv
Sense. Two questions therefore present themselves, bearing
directly on the immediate subject of the inquiry — What will be
the particular nerves of motion ; and What those of sense 1
The answer in regard to the nerves of Motion is simple.
Nerves of that kind will require to be allotted to the various
organs enumerated as composing the frame of the animal. First,
they will be sent to the Locomotive organs, represented in man
by the Lower Extremities ; next they will be sent to the Pre
hensile organs, represented by the Upper Extremities ; and
lastly, to the Manducatory organ, represented by the Jaws and
Teeth. As to the nerves of Sense. It is reasonable to suppose that,
of all the senses known to belong to animals generally, that of
Touch, or common Sensation, extending over the whole body,
will be the most essential for a creature placed lowest in the
ranks of the animal kingdom. And the next sense in importance
will be that of Taste, the guardian of the opening by which
food is passed into the stomach.
It will now be perceived, that, by following this course of
observation, and imagining an Animal, of the simplest form,
having the fewest attributes consistent with its ranking above
Vegetables, we arrive at the conception of a system of nerves,
which, for the properties supposed to belong to it, agrees pre
cisely with the class of Spinal nerves and Fifth, in the higher
animals and Man. By the former extensive series — the nerves
of the spine — power of motion is given to the upper and to
the lower extremities, the representatives of the organs of Pre
hension and of Locomotion ; and by the small root of the Fifth,
distributed exclusively to the muscles of the jaws, motor power
is bestowed on the part which represents the organ of Mastica
tion. Again, by the Spinal nerves, common Sensation or the
sense of Touch is supplied to all the surfaces of the body
(except the head) ; and by the large root of the Fifth, the same
property, Touch, is given to the whole head, together with the
special sense of Taste.
The conclusion, therefore, to which the author came was, that
the series of Spinal nerves and Fifth constituted a class which
belonged to animals in all grades of the animal kingdom ; that
it ministered to functions and endowments equally necessary to
those high and low in the scale ; that in animals of earliest and

xxvi AN ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR'S
simplest construction, it existed in the rudimentary form of a
nervous system; but that, by a gradual process of development,
it attained the perfect condition exhibited in the Vertebrata, and
in Man. Wherefore, in arranging the series together in his
classification, he applied to them the name " Original" system
of nerves.

Respiratory System of Nerves.
II. The nerves next claiming attention are those which, we
have seen, are distinguished by arising, in limited number,
from a small circumscribed portion of the base of the brain, by
single roots, and which diverge, in an apparently irregular and
scattered manner, across the other nerves, to be distributed to
the face, throat, neck, and chest — that is, to the region where
the organ of Respiration, with its concomitant parts, is situated
The fact that these nerves seek the organ of breathing for
their destination, naturally induced the author to study closely
all relating to that part of the body, in the hope of obtaining
facts which might assist in his inquiry. In that manner he was
eventually led to examine with peculiar interest a series of ex
tensive changes which gradually takes place in the scheme and
uses of the apparatus, during its development fiom the lowest
to the highest animals.
The organ of respiration, in the language of physiologists, is
commonly understood to refer only to that structure in animals
which is designed to expose the blood to the influence of the
air, so that the vital fluid may be purified and rendered fit to
circulate over the body. But essential as that office is to all
living beings, and a similar process of aerating and renovating
the fluids is carried on in vegetables as well as animals, it is not
to be regarded as the most elevated application of the organ.
Without diminution of its efficiency in that capacity, the me
chanism is adapted, in Man, to an object altogether foreign to
its original use : the structure is so ordered and arranged that
the air, which has been employed in oxygenating the blood, is
utilised, in the act of being expelled from the body, to produce
audible sounds — the elements of Human Voice and Speech.
The addition to the organ of respiration of that high office,

DISCOVERIES IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. xxvii
connected with Man's noblest endowment, the Mind, is effected,
in the course of its gradual development through the animal
kingdom, by a series of changes successively made in its con
struction. As it belongs directly to our subject to examine
these, I propose to give a general view of them, by tracing the
mechanism, with its various modifications, through the different
grades of animals, from the lowest to the highest.
First, it is important to notice that the process of respiration
is conducted in animals on two widely distinct plans. One of
these is termed the "Diffuse;" the other, the "Concentrated"
system. By the Diffuse system, is meant that mode of breathing by
which the air, or the water charged with air, is brought in
proximity to the blood by playing on surfaces upon which the
vital fluid circulates more or less abundantly, but which surfaces
are open and unenclosed. Here, then, is the distinctive pecu
liarity of the method — that the air made use of is not confined
within a cavity. When it has performed its office, it is dispersed
and lost.
In the Concentrated plan, the chief characteristic is the in
troduction into the mechanism of a membranous sac, capable
of holding air; and of a tube, which communicates with the
external atmosphere. The blood to be aerated circulates on the
surface of the air-sac : and the air can be constantly changed,
by the alternate expansion and compression of the walls sur
rounding the sac. From that general description it will be per
ceived that the sac containing air is the representative of lungs ;
the tube, of windpipe; and the enveloping walls, of thorax. It
will also be seen that in an apparatus consisting of such parts,
elements are supplied for the formation of an organ of Voice.
It only requires that the air confined in the bag shall be expelled
along the pipe, with a force sufficiently great to cause the special
vibrations of sound, that it may be applied to that office.
Next, of the animals to which each of these distinct modes
of respiration belongs. In arranging the animal kingdom, the
most comprehensive division is into the two great sub-king
doms — the Vertebrata, and the Invertebrata. Now, it is an in
teresting fact, in connexion with our subject, that in the whole
extent of the lower of these divisions, there is not a single
sxample of an animal which breathes according to the Concen-

xxviii AN ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR'S
trated system : the only method is the Diffuse. That is equi
valent to saying that in no animal of the Invertebrate sub-king
dom, is the mechanism formed on a plan consistent with its
producing sounds adequate for Voice.
It is not till we mount up to that high stage in the animal
kingdom, where animals begin to be formed on the Vertebral
type, that breathing by the Concentrated method is met with.
We then, for the first time, perceive introduced into the ani
mal framework, an apparatus analogous to thorax, lungs, and
windpipe. In the inferior classes of the sub-kingdom, we see,
and that obscurely, only the elementary rudiments of the con
struction. But by degrees, and in proportion as animals ap
proximate in their general structure to Man, the mechanism
becomes better calculated for performing its double office, — first,
of purifying the blood ; secondly, of ministering to Voice.
I may now point out, in a general manner, the more pro
minent changes wrought upon the organ, during its course of
development through the five different classes of Vertebrata.
1. In Fishes, which form the lowest class of Vertebrata, the
organ of respiration exhibits a transition state between the
Diffuse and the Concentrated systems. The gills are constructed
according to the former plan ; yet the process of taking in the
water by the Mouth, that it may be swept over the gills, is ac
cording to the latter. Indeed, the employment of the mouth
in connexion with the operation of breathing, which is general
in all the Vertebrata, is altogether unknown in the Invertebrata.
In the latter, the oral orifice has relation exclusively to the diges
tive functions. ¦ The first time, in the animal kingdom, that the
mouth is found to serve the double purpose of being a cavity
for receiving food for the stomach, and an opening for the
passage of the air in the vital operation of breathing, is in
Fishes. ?
But it is not the gills which, in this class, claim principal
interest in reference to the development of the organ of respira
tion. In certain fishes, there are lodged, within that part which
corresponds most nearly to their chest, a membranous sac, and
a tube ; and these are the true first representatives, in animals,
of Lungs and a Trachea. Disguised by performing an office not
directly connected with breathing, they are not easily recog
nised as having any relation to that organ. The sac is filled

DISCOVERIES IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. xxix
with air, and it forms what is called the " Swimming Bladder,''
by the expansion or compression of which the fish can either
diminish or increase its specific gravity in the water : the tube,
when appended, opens at the back of the throat; in that respect
it resembles a windpipe ; and it obtains the name ductus pneu-
maticus. 2. The earliest example of the air-sac and tube, thus existing
in a dormant state, as regards respiration, in the fish, being ap
plied to breathing, is found in the class intermediate between
them and reptiles, viz., Amphibia. These ichthyosaurians in
habit the margins of rivers and lakes, overflowed at one time,
and dried up at others : they are, accordingly, bounteously
supplied with both aquatic and terrestrial organs of breathing.
Outside their bodies, they possess gills resembling those of
fishes ; and so long as their territory is submerged they make
use of them. When the waters subside and they are stranded
on dry ground, they take to the swimming bladder, or Lungs,
within. Blood-vessels, conveying the impure blood, are freely
distributed on that sac : and the animals have the power, by
the expansion and contraction of the surrounding walls, or
Thorax, of alternately filling it with air and emptying it again,
through the pneumatic duct, or Trachea.
3. Except in the young of certain orders of the next class,
Reptiles, the gills are entirely discarded; and respiration is
performed exclusively according to the Concentrated system.
But even in the most perfect, the mechanism of the organ is
rude, corresponding to the animals of the class being cold
blooded. In the majority, the Lungs present the appearance of
membranous sacs, or swimming bladders, rather than that of
true pulmonic structure. Again, the Ribs forming the boundaries
of the thorax are either too flexible, in accommodation to their
characteristic mode of progression by creeping ; or are too in
flexible, from being embarrassed with remains of the external
skeleton. But the most notable imperfection consists in the
absence of a diaphragm, or the muscular partition which divides
the thorax from the abdomen. The lungs and the bowels occupy
a common cavity. It deserves, however, to be remarked that
Nostrils are seen first in this class. These tubes being rigid,
and permanently open, furnish a supplementary inlet for the
air, when its entrance into the lungs might be interrupted by

xxx AN ACCOUNT OE THE AUTHOR'S
obstructions in the mouth, during the act of eating. The nostrils
provide also a suitable locality for the organ of Smelling.
4. In the class which comes next, that of Birds, the improve
ments observed in the organ relate principally to its use in
decarbonising the blood. As these feathered animals are de
signed for flight, they are constructed to be extremely buoyant.
That lightness is attained by the air which they respire being
conducted by tubes and cells over their whole bodies ; conse
quently, they have a disproportionately large quantity of air
constantly passing through their lungs : the blood is, therefore,
more perfectly aerated than in the animals below them; and
they are warm-blooded. However, there is the same great want
in them as in reptiles, that of a diaphragm. Nevertheless,
Birds contribute to the sum of the improvements effected in
the apparatus generally, by furnishing a true vocal organ ; it is
in them that we perceive the earliest appearance of a proper
Larynx. 5. Ascending to the next class, Mammalia, we find carried out
to its greatest perfection the principle of the system of Concen
trated respiration. And that advancement is mainly due to the
introduction into the formation of the chest of the Diaphragm;
which is at once the means of confining the lungs, together
with the heart, in a separate compartment, and of giving great
additional force to the acts of breathing.
It is with this important stride in the process of development
of the organ that we perceive, most distinctly, the fulfilment of
the grand design of converting the apparatus of respiration into
the instrument of Voice. By the thorax being now adapted
to expand its cavity to a large extent in inspiration, and to con
tract it forcibly in expiration, it is capacitated to fill the lungs
with air, on the one hand, and to expel it, on the other, in ample
volumes, with a powerful impulse. Accordingly, the air, being
thus forcibly expelled, can be thrown, in its passage through
the larynx and mouth, into the special vibrations which produce
varieties of Sounds.
It is interesting here to observe how new structures, which
would have been useless had they been added to the organ at
a previous stage of its development, are introduced in corre
spondence with its increased powers. I refer now to the Lips.
These appendages of the mouth are first met with in Mammalia.

DISCOVERIES IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. xxxi
And the original use to which they are applied relates to the
mode of rearing their young, which gives to animals of this
class their particular designation. Lips are indispensable for
suckling ; and that act could not have been performed unless
nostrils had been previously furnished, and unless the chest had
been constructed so as to allow the young mammal to draw deep
inspirations. But a higher office awaits the Lips in Man. These fleshy
fringes are essentially required to adapt the mouth for Voice
and Articulate language. Lips are also important parts of the
features of the Countenance ; and they are, therefore, constitu
ents of the principal organ by which feelings and emotions, too
refined for speech, are made known — that of Expression.
And here an observation presses itself upon our notice, in re
ference to the influence which powerful emotions, as witnessed in
Man, exercise upon the organ of respiration, including the coun
tenance. No structures of the body performing different duties
are more closely allied to each other than the Heart, the centre of
the circulating system, and the organ of Breathing. Throughout
the whole animal kingdom, the development of each proceeds
with equal steps. But it belongs to our present subject to attend
only to the relation between them in the highest animal, Man.
When the organ of respiration assumes the Concentrated form,
the heart becomes also a Concentrated organ. By that expres
sion is meant that the chamber of the heart previously appropri
ated, in the inferior animals, as a distinct muscular cavity, to
circulating the impure blood through the lungs, is incorporated
in Man with the chamber which sends the blood, when purified,
over the whole body ; so that the two cavities compose together
an united organ, divided only by a partition. Accordingly, a
material sympathy is established between the "pulmonic" and
"systemic" cavities: they relax and contract simultaneously.
From that arrangement, it follows that blood is propelled from
one side into the lungs, and from the other side into the system,
at each beat of the heart. Hence, if a disturbance sufficient to
interrupt the currents should occur, its effects will be manifested
both in the organ of respiration and in the body generally. Now
it is a fact, of which every man's feelings make him conscious,
that when strong emotions affect the mind, the heart, the
"bosom's lord," is correspondingly agitated. The consequence

xxxii AN ACCOUNT OP THE AUTHOR'S
is, that with every such emotion, a momentary interruption, or
a temporary acceleration, in the action of the heart is produced,
accompanied with a sense of palpitation at the breast. In pro
portion as the blood is either quickened or retarded in its trans
mission to the body, tremors, or paleness, or blushing will be
observed : and according as it is driven to the lungs with undue
impetuosity, or its flow is arrested, the breathing will be hurried,
or slow, or alternate between the two states. Man is so con
stituted that he can interpret the changes to which these dis
turbances give rise. Prompted by a sympathetic sense, he reads
instinctively, as a natural language, the signs of the troubled
bosom in a fellow-man. And this mode of communication is
intelligible to the inhabitants of every nation and clime, how
ever diversified their articulate words. It is the language of
Expression — a common link of all mankind.
Thus we perceive how, by a combination of extensive changes
gradually wrought in the structure of animals, from the lowest
to the highest, a fit instrument is at length constructed to
minister to Man's noblest endowment, the Mind. Following
the development of one class of organs, we saw that, by the
perfection attained in the structure of the instruments of Loco
motion and Prehension in Man, the Mouth became freed from
employing the jaws and teeth like the brutes ; and that its
cavity could, therefore, be reduced in size, the teeth set erect
in close and uniform rows, and the whole form arranged and
proportioned, for the articulation of words, in Speech. By fol
lowing a parallel course of development in the organ of Respira
tion, we observed it constructed, in all the Invertebrata, on a
plan inconsistent with its being applied at all to Voice. But in
the Vertebrata, we saw the same organ gradually shaped and
built up, by successive introductions of new structures, until it
was converted into an instrument capable of propelling currents
of vocalised air to the Mouth ; thence to issue forth by the Lips,
as articulate Words. If to Speech, thus wondrously provided,
powerful emotion of the mind be conjoined, the organ will pre
sent itself in a new phase ; words will be associated with the
manifestations which that emotion creates in the body — Expres
sion. When the Voice suffers interruption and falters, and the
face, neck, and chest are animated by strong passion working
from within the breast, human language exerts its most com-

DISCOVERIES IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. xxxiii
manding influence. Then the organ is beheld in its highest
condition of development.
Such was the extensive course of observation pursued by the
author, in endeavouring to solve the problem, why, in the higher
animals and Man, there should be provided to the organ of respira
tion, in addition to the largely distributed class of double nerves,
the Spinal nerves and Fifth — another series, consisting of nerves
with single roots, derived from a distinct division of the brain.
These nerves he conceived to be a superadded class, introduced
to preside over the organ of breathing when it had assumed, in
the Vertebrata, the extraneous office of acting as an instrument
of Voice. Having observed that, in the transition from a simple
apparatus in which the air of respiration is applied exclusively
to oxygenating the blood, to a complicated mechanism in which
the same air is employed also for the production of vocal sounds,
material changes, including the annexation of new supplemen
tary parts, were made in the organ, he inferred that these changes
would be accompanied with corresponding modifications in the
nervous system. As the superadded structures were moved by
muscles, and regulated by sympathies, he argued that they would
require to be provided with appropriate nerves. But he further
thought that a supply of new nerves alone would not suffice, —
that it would be necessary that these nerves should have a
centre of power seated in the brain and spinal cord. Hence he
believed that, in conformity with the introduction of new por
tions of mechanism into the organ of breathing, there would
be, not only an addition of appropriate nerves, but the develop
ment within the brain of a new division of its substance, en
dowed with influence over the nerves. Upon these grounds he
concluded that the particular series of nerves which are charac
terised by being distributed to the organ of respiration, together
with the portion of brain from which they arise, had been added,
in the course of development of animals generally, to the pre
existing " Original " system of nerves. And on account of the
relation they bear to the organ of breathing, he applied to them
the name " Respiratory " system.
When the nerves included in the two foregoing classes— the
"Original" and the " Respiratory "—had their respective places
assigned in the arrangement, nearly every nerve throughout

xxxiv AN ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR'S
the body which arises from the Brain and Spinal .cord had been
accounted for. The nerves not comprehended were merely those
of the three organs of Sense— Smelling, Seeing, and Hearing-
together with the few nerves of the orbit subservient to the ap
pendages of the Eye.
In regard to the nerves of the, Senses, the author conceived
that the particular sense possessed by each was a special and
distinct endowment, and that it was obtained through the
connexion of the nerve, at its root, with a part in the interior of
the brain introduced to give that sense exclusively. Hence, he
considered that no one nerve of sense could take upon itself
the office of any of the others. For example, he did not think
it possible that the nerve of Vision could feel by Touch; any
more than that a nerve of Sensation could perceive variations of
light or colour. The Optic nerve, he thought, was limited to
discriminating diversities of colours or shades of light ; the
Auditory to distinguishing varieties in sound ; and so with the
others. Several interesting illustrations of these views are given
in the pages of this volume. Again, he was of opinion that each
of the various senses was implanted in the nervous system, at a
distinct stage in the development of animals generally. The
senses of Touch and of Taste, as already said, he believed to
be the first conferred. The others, he thought, were added
successively, in proportion as animals rose in the scale, and
stood in need of more varied sources of perception in regard to
the properties of external objects. Entertaining these views, he
represented the nerves of Smelling, Seeing, and Hearing as
supplementary to those of Touch and Taste, constituting a
sub-class of the "Original" system.
All the nerves embraced in the great Cerebro-Spinal axis — by
which term is meant all that arise collectively from Brain and
Spinal cord— having been thus disposed of in the author's
classification, there remained to have an appropriate place
allotted to them but one set of nerves; and the general charac
ters of these differed so greatly from the others, that there could
be no difficulty in classing them quite apart from the rest. The
nerves referred to are those denominated by anatomists vari
ously, the Sympathetic or Ganglionic system. The view which
the author took of that series was determined principally by his

DISCOVERIES IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. xxxv
assummg that it fulfilled offices which had been left unprovided
for by the classes of nerves whose functions had been ascertained.
He supposed that it presided over those organic processes, in
the economy, which are common to Vegetables and Animals,
and which are carried on secretly and independently of the
direct control of the brain — such as secretion, absorption, as
similation, growth, reproduction, decay.

THE HAND;
ITS MECHANISM AND VITAL ENDOWMENTS,
AS EVINCING DESIGN.

CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.
If we select any object from the whole extent of animated
nature, and contemplate it fully and in all its bearings, we
shall certainly come to this conclusion : that there is Design
in the mechanical construction, Benevolence in the endow
ments of the living properties, and that Good on the whole is
the result. We shall perceive that the Sensibilities of the
body have a relation to the qualities of things external, and
that delicacy of texture is, therefore, a necessary part of its
constitution : that wonderful, and exquisitely constructed as
the mechanical appliances are for the protection of these deli
cate structures, they are altogether insufficient; that a protec
tion of a very different kind, which shall animate the body to
the utmost exertion, is requisite for safety: and that Pain,
whilst it is a necessary contrast to its opposite pleasure, is the
great safeguard of the frame. Finally, as to Man, we shall be
led to infer that the pains and pleasures of mere bodily sense
(with yet more benevolent design) carry him onward, through
the development and improvement of the Mind, to higher
aspirations. To comprehend the perfection of the structure of any single
organ of an animal body, and to see how the same system of
parts is adapted to an infinite variety of conditions, we must
view the same organ comparatively : this carries us into a new

2 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER Chap. I.
science, no less than that which regards the changes in the
surface of the Globe. And although, in this comparison, we
shall find that stupendous revolutions have occurred indicative
of power, it is in contemplating the adaptation of the newly-
introduced forms of living and organised matter to these suc
cessive changes in the surface of the earth, that we shall have
the best proofs of the continuance of that Power which first
created. Such is the course of reasoning which I propose to follow in
giving an account of the Hand and Arm. I shall contrast
them, in the first place, with the corresponding parts of living
creatures through all the divisions of the chain of vertebrated
animals ; and then I shall take the hand, not merely as com
bining the perfections of mechanical structure, but as possess
ing the property of Touch, by which it ministers to and im
proves every other sense, constituting it the organ in the body
the most remarkable for correspondence with Man's capacities.
Some may conceive that, as I have for my title the Human
Hand and its relation to the other solid structures of the
animal frame, it will lead me to consider the body as a Machine
only. I neither see the necessity for this, nor do I acknow
ledge the danger of considering it in that light. I embark
fearlessly in the investigation, convinced that, yielding to the
current of thought, and giving the fullest scope to inquiry,
there can be no hidden danger if the mind be free from vicious
bias. I cannot see how scepticism should arise out of the
contemplation of the structure and mechanism of the Animal
Body. Let us for a moment reflect what is the natural result of
examining the human body as a piece of machinery ; and see
whether that makes the creation of man more or less important
in relation to the Whole Scheme of nature.
Suppose there is placed before us a machine for raising great
weights ; be it the simplest of all, the wheel and axle. We
are given to understand that this piece of mechanism has the
property of multiplying the power of the hand. But a youth
of subtile mind may say, I do not believe it possible so to
multiply the power of the hand ; and if the mechanician be a
philosopher, he will rather applaud the spirit of doubt. If he
condescend to explain, he will say, that the piles driven into

Chap. I. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 3
the ground, or the screws uniting the machinery to the beams,
are the fixed points which resist in the working of the machine;
that their resistance is a necessary condition, since it is thrown,
together with the power of the hand, on the weight to be
raised ; and he will add that the multiplication of wheels does
not alter the principle of action, which every one may see in
the simple lever, to result from the resistance of the fulcrun or
point, on which it rests.
Now grant that man's body is a machine, where are tlv.
points of resistance? are they not in the ground we stantr
upon 1 This leads us to inquire by what property we stand.
Is it not by the weight of the body, or, in other words, by the
Attraction of the earth ? The terms attraction or gravitation
lead at once to the philosophy of the question. We stand
because the body has weight, and a resistance in proportion to
the matter of the animal frame and the magnitude of the globe
itself. We need not stop at present to observe the adjustment
of the strength of the frame, the solidity of the bones, the
elasticity of the joints, and the power of the muscles, to the
weight of the whole. Our attention is directed to the relations
which the frame has to the Earth we are placed upon.
Some Philosophers who have considered the matter curi
ously, have said, that if man were translated bodily to another
Planet, and that planet were smaller than the earth, he would
be too light, and he would walk like one wading in deep water :
that on the contrary, if the planet were larger, the attraction of
his body would make him feel as if his limbs were loaded with
lead ; nay, that the attraction might be so great as to destroy
the fabric of the body, crushing bones and all.*
However idle these fancies may be, there is no doubt that the
animal frame is formed with a due relation to the earth we in
habit ; and that the strength of the materials of the animal body
have as certainly a correspondence with the weight, as the
wheels and levers of a machine, or the scaffolding which sustains
them, have relation to the force and velocity of the machinery,
or the load they are employed to raise.
The mechanism and organisation of animals have been often
brought forward for a different purpose from that for which I
* The matter of Jupiter is as I diameter of Pallas is 80 miles; that
330,600 to 1000 of our Earth. The \ of the Earth is 7911 miles.

4 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. Chap. L
use them. We find it said, that it is incomprehensible how an
all-powerful Being should manifest his will by these means —
that mechanical contrivance implies difficulties overcome ; and
how strange it is, they add, that the perceptions of the mind,
which might have been produced by some direct means, or have
arisen spontaneously, should be received through an instrument
so fine and complex as the eye ; — and which requires the creation
of the element of light, to enter the organ and to cause vision.
For my own part, I think it most natural to contemplate the
subject quite differently. We perhaps presume too much when
we say that Light has been created for the purpose of Vision.
We are hardly entitled to pass over its properties as a chemical
agent, its influence on the gases, and, in all probability, on the
atmosphere, its importance to vegetation, to the formation of
the aromatic and volatile principles, and to fructification, its in
fluence on the animal surface by invigorating the circulation,
and imparting health. In relation to our present subject, it
seems more rational to consider light second only to attraction
for its importance in nature, and as a link connecting systems
of infinite remoteness.
To have a conception of this, we must tutor our minds and
acquire some measure of the velocity of light, and of the space
which it fills. It is not sufficient to say that it moves 200,000
miles in a second ; for we can comprehend no such degree of
velocity. If we are further informed that the earth is distant
from the sun 95,000,000 of miles, and that light traverses the space
in 8 minutes and l-8th, it is but another way of affirming the
inconceivable rapidity of its transmission. Astronomers, whose
powers of mind afford us the very highest estimate of human
faculties, whose accuracy of calculation is hourly visible, have
affirmed that light emanates from celestial bodies at such vast
distance that thousands of years shall elapse during its progress
to our earth— yet that, impelled by a force equal to its trans
mission through that space, it enters the eye and strikes upon
the delicate nerve, with no other effect than to produce vision.*
Instead of supposing light created for the eye, and to give us
the sense of vision, would it not be a more just manner of con
sidering the subject to dwell with admiration on the fact that
* The argument is not -weakened I light results from the movement of
on assuming the hypothesis thai i an elastic ether.

Chap. L INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 5
this small organ, the eye, should be formed with relation to a
system of such vast extent and grandeur ; and, more especially,
that the ideas arising in the mind through the influence of that
light and this organ, should be constituted a part of one vast
whole !
By such considerations we are led to contemplate the human
body in its different relations. The magnitude of the earth
determines the strength of our bones, and the power of our
muscles ; so must the depth of the atmosphere determine the
condition of our fluids, aud the resistance of our blood vessels ;
the common act of breathing, the transpiration from the sur
faces, must bear relation to the weight, moisture, aud tempera
ture of the medium which surrounds us. A moment's reflection
on these facts proves that our body is formed with a just cor
respondence to all these external influences : and not the frame
of the body only, but also the vital endowments and the pro
perties of the organ of sense. It were a perverseness to say
that the outward senses, the organisation, and the vital pro
perties, could arise from the influence of the surrounding ele
ments, or out of matter spontaneously ; they are created in ac
cordance with the condition of the globe, and are systematic
parts of a great whole.
These views lead to another consideration, that it is to ex
ternal nature, and not of necessity to the mind, that the com
plexity of our structure belongs. Whilst man is an agent in a
material world, and sensible to the influence of things external
complexity of structure is a necessary part of his constitution.
But we do not perceive a relation between this complexity and
the mind. From aught that we learn by this mode of study,
the mind may be as distinct from the bodily organs as the ex
terior influences are which give them exercise.
Something, then, we observe to be common to our planet and
to others, to our system and to other systems ; matter, attrac
tion light; which nearly implies that the mechanical and
chemical laws must be the same throughout. It is perhaps too
much with an anonymous author to affirm, that an inhabitant
of our world would find himself at home in any other ; that he
would be like a traveller, for a moment only perplexed by diver
sity of climate and strangeness of manners, but ready to con.
fess, at last, that nature was everywhere and essentially the

6 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. Chap. I.
same. However this may be, all I contend for is the necessity
of certain relations being established between the planet and
the frames of all which inhabit it ; between the great mass and
the physical properties of every part ; that in the mechanical
construction of animals, as in their endowments of life, they are
created in relation to the whole, planned together and fashioned
by one Mind.
A comparison made between the system of an animal body,
and the condition of the earth's surface, is highly illustrative
of design in both. In the animal, we see matter withdrawn
from the influences which arrange things dead and inorganic ;
but this matter, thus appropriated to the animal, and newly
endowed through the influence of life, continues to possess such
qualities of inanimate matter as are necessary to constitute the
living being a part of the system — an inhabitant of the earth.
To what, then, does this argument lead 1 Is it not, that as the
beautiful structure of the animal, and the perfection in the
arrangement of its parts, demonstrate design — so design extends
to the condition of the earth also ; and over both there is a
ruling Intelligence ?
Men who have studied deeply, and who have become autho
rities in natural science, acquire a happy spirit of contentment
and true philosophy, of which we have examples in Grew,* in
Ray, and in Linnasus. The last, resting from his great labours
in universal nature, and struck with the perfection and order
evinced in the whole, breaks out, very naturally and eloquently,
in admiration of the just relation of all things, as proving them
to be the work of one Almighty Being. Then considering the
great globe as a Museum,t furnished forth with the works of
the Supreme Being, man, he adds, is placed in the midst of it,
as alone capable of comprehending and valuing it. And if
this be true, as certainly it is, what then becomes his duty ?
Moralists and divines, with Nature herself, testify that the pur
pose of so much beauty and perfection being made manifest to
man, is that he may study and celebrate the works of God :
and that if he fail in this, he will be wanting in those contem-
* A naturalist, who wrote on the t These Sentiments are best ex-
anatomy of Plants ; also, " Cosmo- pressed in his Preface to the Cata-
logia Sacra: a Discourse on the logue of the Museum of Adolphus
Universe, as the creature aud king- Frederick of Sweden.
dom of God."

Chap. L INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 7
plations and exercises by which the mind is to be raised to the
knowledge of God. Those who say that the Scriptures ought
to be the sole guides, forget that these are addressed to intelli
gent beings; and what can be more fitting to bestow that
intelligence and capacity which is to receive eternal truths,
than those studies which the great naturalist is enforcing, when
he says, " If we have no faith in the things which are seen, how
should we believe those which are not seen ? The brute crea
tures, although furnished with external senses, resemble those
animals which, wandering in the woods, are fattened with
acorns, but never look upwards to the tree which affords them
food ; much less have they any idea of the Beneficent Author
of the tree and its fruit." By such reflections was Linnaeus led
to conclude, that "whoever shall regard with contempt the
economy of the Creator here, is' as truly impious as the man
who takes no thought of the future."
The passiveness which is natural in infancy, and the want of
reflection as to the sources of enjoyment which is excusable in
youth, become insensibility and ingratitude in riper years. In
the early stages of life, before our minds have the full power of
comprehension, the objects around us serve but to excite and
exercise the outward senses. But in the maturity of reason,
philosophy should present these things to us anew, with this
difference, that the mind may contemplate them : that mind
which is now strengthened by experience to comprehend them,
and to entertain a grateful sense of them.
It is this sense of gratitude which distinguishes man. In
brutes, the attachment to offspring for a limited period is as
strong as in him, but it ceases with the necessity for it. In
man, on the contrary, the affections continue, become the
sources of all the endearing relations of life, and the very bonds
by which society is connected.
If the child upon the parent's knee is unconsciously incur
ring a debt, and strong affections grow up so naturally that
nothing is more universally condemned than filial ingratitude,
we have but to change the object of affection, to find the natural
source of religion itself. We must show that the care of the
most tender parent is in nothing to be compared with those
provisions for our enjoyment and safety, which it is not
only beyond the ingenuity of man to supply to himself,

8 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. Chap. I.
but which he can hardly comprehend, while he profits by
them. If man, of all living creatures, be alone capable of gratitude,
and through this sense be capable also of religion, the transition
is natural; since the gratitude due to parents is abundantly
more owing to Him "who saw him in his blood, and said,
Live." For the continuance of life a thousand provisions are made.
If the vital actions of a man's frame were directed by his will,
they are necessarily so minute and complicated, that they would
immediately fall into confusion. He cannot draw a breath,
without the exercise of sensibilities as well ordered as those of
the eye or ear. A tracery of nervous cords unites many organs
in sympathy; and if any one filament of these were broken,
pain and spasm and suffocation would ensue. The action of
his heart, and the circulation of his blood, and all the vital
functions, are governed through means and by laws which are
not dependent on his will ; and to which the powers of his
mind are altogether inadequate. For had they been under the
influence of his will, a doubt, a moment's pause of irresolution,
a forgetfulness of a single action at its appointed time, would
have terminated his existence.
Now, when man sees that his vital operations could not be
directed by reason — that they are constant, and far too impor
tant to be exposed to all the changes incident to his mind, and
that they are given up to the direction of other sources of mo
tion than the will, he acquires a full sense of his dependence.
If he be fretful and wayward, and subject to inordinate passion,
we perceive the benevolent design in withdrawing the vital
motions from the influence of such capricious sources of action,
so that they may neither be disturbed like his moral actions,
nor lost in a moment of despair.
Ray, in speaking of the first drawing of breath, delivers him
self very naturally : " Here, methinks, appears a necessity of
bringing in the agency of some superintendent intelligent Being,
for what else should put the diaphragm and the muscles serving
respiration in motion all of a sudden so soon as ever the foetus
is brought forth 1 Why could they not have rested as well as
they did in the womb 1 What aileth them that they must
needs bestir themselves to get in air to maintain the creature's

Chap. I. INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER 9
life 1 Why could they not patiently suffer it to die 1 You will
say the spirits do at this time flow to the organs of respiration,
the diaphragm, and other muscles which concur to that action
and move them. But what raises the spirits which were quit
escent, (fee, I am not subtile enough to discover."
We cannot call this agency a new intelligence different from
the mind, because, independently of consciousness, we can hardly
so define it. But a sensibility is bestowed, which being roused
(and it is excited by the state of the circulation,) governs these
muscles of respiration, and ministers to life and safety, inde
pendently of the will.
When man thus perceives, that in respect to all these vital
operations he is more helpless than the infant, and that his
boasted reason can neither give them order nor protection, is
not his insensibility to the Giver of these secret endowments
worse than ingratitude ? In a rational creature, ignorance of hi3
condition becomes a species of ingratitude ; it dulls his sense of
benefits, and hardens him into a temper of mind with which it
is impossible to reason, and from which no improvement can be
expected. Debased in some measure by a habit of inattention, and lost
to all sense of the benevolence of the Creator, he is roused to
reflection only by overwhelming calamities, which appear to
him magnified and disproportioned ; and hence arises a concep
tion of the Author of his being more in terror than in love.
There is inconsistency and something of the child's propen
sities still in mankind. A piece of mechanism, as a watch, a
barometer, or a dial will fix attention— a man will make jour
neys to see an engine stamp a coin, or turn a block ; yet the
organs through which he has a thousand sources of enjoyment,
and which are in themselves the most exquisite in design, and
the most curious both in contrivance and mechanism, do not
enter his thoughts ; and if he admire a living action, that ad
miration will probably be more excited by what is uncommon
and monstrous, than by what is natural and perfectly adjusted
to its office— by the elephant's trunk, than by the human hand.
This does not arise from unwillingness to contemplate the
superiority or dignity of our own nature, or from incapacity of
admiring the adaptation of parts. It is the effect of habit. The
human hand is so beautifully formed, it has so fine a sensibility,

10 INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER Chap. I.
that sensibility governs its motions so correctly, every effort of
the will is answered so instantly, as if the hand itself were the
Seat of that will ; its actions are so powerful, so free, and yet so
delicate, as if it possessed a quality of instinct in itself, that
there is no thought of its complexity as an instrument, or of
the relations which make it subservient to the mind ; we use it
as we draw our breath, unconsciously, and have lost all recol
lection of the feeble and ill-directed efforts of its first exercise,
by which it has been perfected. Is it not the very perfection
of the instrument which makes us insensible to its use? A
vulgar admiration is excited by seeing the spider-monkey pick
up a straw, or a piece of wood, with its tail; or the elephant
searching the keeper's pocket with his trunk. Now, if we
examined the peculiarity of the elephant's structure fully, that
is to say, from its huge mass deduced the necessity for its form,
and from the form the necessity for its trunk, it would lead us.
through a train of very curious observations, to a more correct
notion of that appendage, and therefore to a truer admiration of
it ; but I contrast this part with the human hand, merely to
show how insensible we are to the perfections of our own frame,
and to the advantages attained through such a form. We use
the limbs without being conscious, or, at least, without any con
ception of the thousand parts which must conform to a single
act. To excite attention, the motions of the human frame must
either be performed in a strange and unexpected mode, that will
raise the wonder of the ignorant and vulgar ; or we must rouse
ourselves, by an effort of the cultivated mind, to observe things
and actions, of which the sense has been lost by long familiarity.
In the following pages, I shall treat the subject comparatively ;
and exhibit a view of the bones of the arm, descending from the
human Hand to the Fin of the fish. I shall in the next place
review the actions of the Muscles of the arm and hand, Then
proceeding to the vital properties, I shall advance to the subject
of Sensibility, leading to that of Touch; afterwards, I shall
show the necessity of combining the Muscular Action with the
exercise of the senses, and especially with that of touch, to con
stitute the hand, what it has been called, the geometrical sense.
I shall describe the organ of touch, the cuticle and skin and
arrange the nerves of the hand according to their functions. I
shall then inquire into the correspondence between the capa-

Chap. 1.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.

11

cities or endowments of the mind, and the external organs, and
more especially the properties of the hand. And I shall conclude
by showing that animals have been created with a reference to
the globe they inhabit ; that all their endowments and various
organisation bear a relation to their state of existence, and to
the elements around them ; that there is a plan universal, ex
tending through all animated nature, and which has prevailed
in the earliest condition of the world ; and finally, that on ther
most minute, or the most comprehensive, study of those sub
jects, we everywhere behold Prospective Design.

CHAPTER IT.
DEFINITION OF THE HAND.

the arms and hand, variously modified, adapted to an extenstve
System of animals.
We ought to define the Hand as belonging exclusively to Man
— corresponding in its sensibility and motion to the endow
ments of his Mind, and especially to that ingenuity which,
through means of it, converts the being who is the weakest in
natural defence, to be the ruler over animate and inanimate
nature. If we describe the hand, including the arm, as an extremity
in which the thumb and fingers are opposed to each other, so
as to form an instrument of prehension, we embrace in the defi
nition the extremities of the quadrumana or monkeys. Now,
as these animals possess four such hands, it implies that we in
clude the posterior as well as the anterior extremities. But the
anterior extremity of the monkey is as much a foot as the pos
terior extremity is a hand : both are calculated for their mode
of progression, climbing, and leaping from the branches of
trees ; just as the tail in some species is converted to the same
purpose, and is as useful an instrument of suspension as any of
the four extremities,*

* The following is a sketch of the
Coaita, or Spider Monkey, so called
from the extraordinary length of its
extremities, and from its motions.
The tail answers all the purposes of
a hand, and t"he animal throws itself
about from branch to branch, some
times swinging by the foot, some
times by the fore extremity, but
oftener, and with a greater reach,

by the tail. The prehensile part of
the tail is covered with skin only,
forming an organ of touch as dis
criminating as the proper extremi
ties. The Caraya, or Black Howl
ing Monkey of Cumana, when shot,
is found suspended by its tail round
a branch. Naturalists have been so
struck with the property of the tail
of the Ateles, that they have com-

Chap. II. THE HAND, ITS MECHANISM, ETC.

13

The armed extremities of a variety of animals give them great
advantages. But if man possessed similar provisions, he would

forfeit his sovereignty over all. As Galen, long since, observed,
" did man possess the natural armour of the brutes, he would
no longer work as an artificer, nor protect himself with a breast
plate, nor fashion a sword or spear, nor invent a bridle to mount
the horse and hunt the lion. Neither could he follow the arts
of peace, construct the pipe and lyre, erect houses, place altars,
inscribe laws, and through letters and the ingenuity of the
hand, hold communion with the wisdom of antiquity, at one
time to converse with Plato, at another with Aristotle, or Hip
pocrates." But the hand is not a distinct instrument ; nor is it properly

pared it to the proboscis of the Ele
phant. They have assured us that
they fish with their tail.
The most interesting use of the
tail is seen in the Opossum. The

young of that animal mount upon
her back, and entwine their tails
around their mother's tail, by which
they sit secure, while she escapes
from her enemies.

14 THE WHOLE SKELETON Chap. II.
a superadded part. The whole frame must conform to the
hand, and act with reference to it. Our purpose will not be
answered by examining it alone ; we must extend our views to
all those parts of the body which are in strict connexion with
the hand. For example, from the shoulder to the finger ends,
such a relation is established amongst the whole chain of bones,
that it is essential to embrace the whole extremity in the in
quiry. And in order to comprehend fully the fine arrangement
of the parts necessary to the motions of the fingers, we must
compare the structure of the human body with that of other
animals. Were we to limit our examination to the bones of the arm
and hand in man alone, no doubt we should soon discover the
provisions in them for easy, varied, and powerful action; and
conclude that nothing could be more perfectly suited to their
purposes. But we must extend our views to comprehend a
great deal more — a larger design.
By a Skeleton, is understood the system of bones, constructed
within, which gives firmness and characteristic form to the
animal, and receives the action of the exterior muscles. This
osseous system belongs, however, to one part only of the animal
kingdom; that higher division — the Animalia Vertebrata*
— which includes the chain of beings from, man down to
fishes. To life, the most essential function is Respiration ; and on
the mode in which that is performed, or in which the decar-
bonisation of the blood is effected by its exposure to the atmo
sphere, depends a remarkable change, in the animal kingdom
of the whole framework of the body. As man, the mammalia,
birds, reptiles, and fishes have the mechanism of respiration
much in common, so, through them all, a resemblance can be
traced in the structure of their bones, in the action of their
muscles, and in the arrangement of their nerves. They all
possess the Vertebral Column or Spine ; and the existence of
that column not only implies an internal skeleton, but that par
ticular framework of ribs which is suited to move the lungs
in breathing.
But the ribs do not move of themselves; they must have
* See the first of the Additional j name given to one of the bones of
Illustrations. Vertebra is the | the spine, or backbone.

Chap. II. CONFORMS TO THE EXTREMITY. 15
appropriate muscles. These muscles must have their appro
priate nerves : and for supplying these nerves, there must
be a Spinal Marrow. The spinal canal formed within the
vertebral column, is to the spinal marrow as necessary as the
skull to the Brain. So that we come round to understand the
necessity of a vertebra to the formation of a spinal marrow ; and
the reader may comprehend how much enters into the concep
tion of the anatomist or naturalist, when the term, a vertebrated
animal, is used, viz.,— an internal skeleton, a particular arrange
ment of respiratory organs, and a conformity in the Nervous
System. In making a review of the bones of the upper extremity, I
shall limit myself to this superior division of Vertebrated
animals. If in commencing this subject, and indulging in the admira
tion which naturally arises out of it, I were to point, in the
upper extremity, to the strength and freedom of motion at the
ball and socket joint of the shoulder, — to the firmness of the
articulation at the elbow, with its admirable combination of
mobility suited to the co-operation of the hands, — to the lati
tude of motion at the wrist, with its strength, — and to the fine
ness of the movements of the hand itself, divided among the
joints of twenty-nine distinct bones — some, objecting with a
show of reason, might say— The bones and forms of joints you
are thus admiring, so far from being peculiarly suited to the
hand of man, may be found in any other vertebrated animal !
But that remark would not abate our admiration; it would only
remind us that we erred in looking at a part only, instead of
embracing a comprehensive system; where by slight, hardly-
perceptible changes and gradations in the forms, the analogous
bones were adjusted to every condition of animal existence.
Nothing can be adapted more correctly and appropriately for
their object, than the bones by which the motions of the upper
extremity are performed. We enjoy the power of bending and
coiling the arm, extensively and freely— and of reaching the
fingers to every part. Yet these bones, so truly admirable in
man, are recognised in the fin of the whale, in the paddle of the
turtle, and in the wing of the bird ; we see the corresponding
bones, perfectly suited to their purpose, in the paw of the lion,
or the bear ; and equally fitted for motion in the hoof of the

1G FOSSILISED BONES SHOW Chap. II.
horse, or in the foot of the camel ; or adjusted for climbing or
digging, in the long-clawed feet of the sloth or bear.
It is obvious, then, that we should be unduly limiting our
subject, if we did not consider the human hand in its relation
to the corresponding organs of other animals : as exhibiting
the bones and muscles, which in different animals are suited to
particular purposes, so combined in the Hand as to perform,
consistently with powerful exertion, actions the most minute
and complicated. The wonder still is, that whether we examine
the system in man, or in any of the inferior species of animals,
nothing can be more curiously adjusted or appropriated ; and
whatever instance occupied our thoughts for the time, we should
be inclined to say, that to that particular object it had been
framed. The view which the subject opens, is unbounded. It is upon
a knowledge of the system of which we are speaking, that the
curious synthesis, by which we ascertain the nature, condition,
and habits of an extinct animal, from the examination of its
fossil remains, is grounded. To make the proper use of that
department, we must understand what a fossil bone is.
A bone consists of many parts ; but for our present purpose
it is necessary to observe only that the hard substance, which
we familiarly recognise as bone, is formed of an earthy material,
the phosphate of lime, everywhere penetrated by membranes
and vessels, as delicate as those in any other structures of the
body. Fossil bones are those found imbedded in the earth, and
they may be in different conditions. They may either retain
their natural structure, or may have become petrified ; that is
to say, the animal matter may have been decomposed and dis
sipated, with the phosphoric acid of the phosphate of lime ; and
then, silicious earth, or lime in composition with iron, or iron
pyrites, may by solution and infiltration fill the interstices of
the original matter of the bone. Thus bone will be converted
into stone, and be as permanent as the rock which contains it ;
it will retain the form though not the internal structure of its
original. Now that form, in consequence of the perfect system which
we have hinted at, becomes the proof of revolutions in the face
of the earth, the most extraordinary. By reasoning on such
fossil bones, the mind of the inquirer is conducted back, not

Chap. II. THE EXTENT OF THE SYSTEM. 17
merely to the contemplation of the structure of the animal of
which they are the remains, but by inference from the animal
organisation, to that of the changes in the globe itself.
In the highest mountains of the old and new world, remains
of marine animals are found ; and on turning up the surface of
our fields, or in the beds of rivers, huge bones are discovered ;
not in the loose soil only, but under the solid limestone rock :
now the bones thus exposed become naturally a subject of
intense interest, and bear unexpectedly on the inquiry in which
we are engaged. Among other important conclusions, they
enforce this — that not only does a scheme or system of animal
structure pervade all classes of animals which now inhabit the
earth, but that the principle of the same great plan of creation
was in operation, and governed the formation of those animals
which existed previous to the revolutions that the earth has
undergone : that the excellence of form now visible in the
human skeleton, was in the scheme of animal existence, long
previous to the formation of man, before the surface of the
earth was prepared for him, or suited to his constitution, struc
ture, or capacities.
A skeleton is dug up, which has lain under many fathoms of
rock, being the bones of an animal which lived antecedent to
that formation of rock, and at a time when the earth's surface
must have been very different from what it now is. These re,
mains prove that the animal must have been formed of the same
constituent elements as those of the present day ; that it had
analogous organs— received new matter by digestion, and was
nourished by means of a circulating fluid — possessed feeling
through a nervous system, and was moved by the action of
muscles. With regard also to other animals of the same period,
we may infer that, as in those now alive, the organs of digestion.
circulation, and respiration, would be modified by circumstances,
in accordance with their habits and modes of living; and that
such changes, being but variations in the system by which new
matter is assimilated to the animal body, would always, how
ever remarkable they were, bear a relation to the original type,
as parts of one great design.
in examining these bones of the ancient world, so regularly
are they constituted on the same principle evinced in animals
which now inhabit the earth, that by observing their shape, and
B

11

ANIMALS THE MOST UNCOUTH

Chap. IL

the processes* by which their muscles were attached, the
anatomist can reduce the animals to which they belonged, to
their orders, genera, and species, with as much precision as if
the recent bodies had been submitted to his eye. Not only can
we distinguish whether their feet were adapted to the solid
ground, or to the oozy bed of rivers, — to speed, or to grasping
and tearing; but judging, by these indications, of the habits of
the animals, we acquire a knowledge of the condition of the
earth during their period of existence : ascertain that at one
time it was suited to the scaly tribe of the lacertae, with languid
motion ; at another, to animals of higher organisation, with
more varied and lively habits ; and finally we learn, that at any
period previous to man's creation, the surface of the earth
would have been unsuitable to him.
We ought not to touch on this subject without one observa
tion more. When the peasant, on turning up the great bones
of some unknown animal, suspends his work and thinks he has
discovered the limbs of a giant, he is more to be excused than
the learned and ingenious, who seek from these natural appear
ances to illustrate the Scriptures. True religion is adapted to
the sound capacities of all men — to that condition of mind
which the individual experience of the good and evil of the
world, sooner or later, brings with it : it is suited to man in
every stage of the progress of society — to his weakness and to
his strength ; from which it becomes the real dispenser of equal
rights. Had our religion been framed with a relation to science,
it could not have been adapted to every man ; least of all had
it been related to that branch of natural knowledge which is
called Geology — a science so obviously in its infancy, that but
for its alliance with anatomy, it would have continued to pre
sent a scene only of confusion for ignorant wonderment.
It may then be asked, why do we cultivate those scientific
subjects to which we apply the term Natural Religion? Be
cause they agreeably enlarge our comprehension, and, while
they repress a too selfish enthusiasm, exalt the imagination.
We all of ourselves proceed a .certain length in the examination
of natural phenomena; and the convictions arising from the

* Processes are the projecting
points of bone by which the ten-
duns of the muscles are attached.

To the anatomist, therefore, pro
cesses are indications of the condi
tion of the muscles.

Chap. II.

SUITED TO THEIR CONDITION.

19

survey are wrought into the opinions of every one. Yet when
benevolent design is disclosed by new facts, or by things that
are familiar being presented in a new light, we experience a
fresh and cheerful influence. We are sensible of a renewed
impulse ; a gratification which interferes with no duty.
This opportunity may be taken to correct a notion which we
have seen expressed, that certain imperfections are discoverable
in the structure of some animals. Such an idea must have
sprung from comparing these animals with ourselves, our struc
ture, and sensibilities— instead of looking on them with refer
ence to their peculiar conditions.
For example, the eloquent Buffon, when comparing the pre
sent races of animals with the fossil remains of individuals of
the same family now extinct, expresses some singular opinions ;
which, although with reserve, have been adopted even by Cuvier.
Buffon speaks confidently of the unsuitableness of particular
organs of animals, and of the derangement of their instincts.
But it is from comparing them and their mode of life with
human society, a state where individuals are subject to misery
and want. He surely sympathises too closely with the bird of
prey, when he characterises its watchfulness as a true picture
of wretchedness, anxiety, and indigence. If a bird refuse to be
domesticated and crammed with meat, it is hardly fair to accuse
it of gloom and apathy, the simple fact being that such treat
ment is contrary to its natural habits and instincts. The ani
mals which principally excite his commiseration, are of the
tardigrade family, the sloths: in the Ai,* for example, the
defect of organisation is, he supposes, the greatest ; and the
Unau,t he thinks, is only a little less miserably provided for
existence. In like manner, modern travellers express pity for these slow-
paced animals. Whilst other quadrupeds, they say, range in
boundless wilds, the sloth hangs suspended by his strong arms,
—a poor, ill-formed creature, deficient as well as deformed, his
hind-legs too short, and his hair like withered grass ; his looks,
motions, and cries, conspire to excite pity ; and, as if this were
not enough, they say that his moaning causes the tiger to relent

* Bradypus tridactylus :— brady-
pus [slow-footed), tridactylus (three-

toed), of the order Edentata (want
ing incisor teeth).
f Bradypus didactylus (tvjo-tocd.)

20 MISTAKEN COMPASSION FOR Chap. II.
and turn away. But that is not a true picture : the sloth can
not walk like many other quadrupeds, but he stretches out his

Skeleton of the Sloth.
arms, and if he can hook on his claws to the inequalities of the
ground, he drags himself along. This condition it is which
gives occasion to such an expression as " the bungled and faulty
composition of the sloth." But if with his claws he can reach
the branch or the rough bark of a tree, then will his progress be
rapid ; he will climb band over head along the branches till
they touch, thus getting from bough to bough, and tree to tree ;
in the storm he is most alive ; it is when the wind blows, and
the trees stoop, and the branches wave and meet, that he is
upon the march.*
Accordingly, the compassion expressed by these philosophers
for animals which they consider imperfectly organised, is un
called for.t As well might they pity the larva of the summer
fly, which creeps at the bottom of a pool, because it cannot yet
rise upon the wing. As the insect, until its metamorphosis is
perfect and its wings developed, has no impulse to fly, so there
is no reason to suppose that a disposition or instinct is given to
animals without a corresponding provision for motion. On the
ground, the sloth may move tardily ; his long arms and prepos
terous claws may then be an incumbrance ; but in his natural
place, among the branches of trees, they are of advantage in
* Waterton. f The subject is pursued at tha
| end of the following chapter.

Chap. II.

ANIMALS OF PECULIAR FORM.

21

obtaining his food, and in giving him shelter and safety from
his enemies.
It is not by our own sensations that we must estimate the
movements of animals. In catching a fly the motion of the bill
of the swallow or of the fly-catcher is so rapid that we do not
see it, but only hear the snap. On the contrary, how very dif
ferent are the means employed by the chameleon for obtaining
his food; he lies more still than the dead leaf, his skin like the
bark of the tree, and taking the hue of the surrounding objects:
whilst other animals evince excitement conforming to their
rapid motions, his shrivelled face hardly indicates life : his eye
lids are scarcely parted ; he protrudes his tongue towards the
insect, with a motion so imperceptible, that it is touched and
caught more certainly than by the most lively action. Thus,
various creatures, living upon insects, reach their prey by differ-!
ent means and instincts; some by rapidity of motion, which
gives no time for escape, others by a languid and slow move
ment that excites no alarm.
The loris, a tardigrade animal, might be pitied too for the
slowness of its movements, if these were not necessary to its
very existence. It steals on its prey by night, and extends its

arm towards the bird on the branch, or the great moth, with a
motion so imperceptibly slow as to make sure of its object.*

* It may be well to notice some
other characters that belong to ani
mals, inhabitants of the tropical

regions, which prowl by night. The
various creatures that enliven the
woods in the day-time, in theso

22

.fOSSIL \NIMiLS SUITED TO

Chap. II.

Just so the Indian, perfectly naked, his hair cut short, and his
skin oiled, creeps under the canvas of the tent, and moving like
a ghost, stretches out his hand with a motion so gentle as to
displace nothing, not even disturbing those who are awake and
watching. Against such thieves, we are told, it is hardly pos
sible to guard. And thus, the necessities or vicious desires of
man subjugate him, and make him acquire by practice the wili-
ness implanted in brutes as instinct. Or we may say that, en
dowed with reason, man is brought to imitate the irrational
creatures, and so to vindicate the necessity for their particular
instincts ; of which every class affords examples. ¦
In insects, the illustrations of such actions are as, striking
as in the loris, or the chameleon. Evelyn describes a spider
(Aranea scenica) as exhibiting remarkable cunning in catching
a fly. " Did the fly," he says, " happen not to be within a leap,
the spider would move towards it so softly, that its motion
seemed not more perceptible than that of the shadow of the
gnomon of a dial," * and then it would suddenly pounce upon
its prey.
I would only remark further, that we are not to account this
slowness a defect, but rather an appropriation of muscular
power : since in some animals, the same muscles which at one
time produce a motion so slow as to be hardly perceptible, can
at another act with the velocity of a spring.
Now Buffon, speaking of the ex|inct species of the tardigrade
family, has represented them as monsters,, by defect of organisa
tion : as attempts of nature, wherein she has failed to perfect

warm climates, have fine skins, and
smooth hair; but those that seek
their prey at night have a thick coat
like animals of the arctic regions.
"What is this but to be clothed as
the sentinel whose watch is in the
night? They have eyes, too, which,
from their peculiar structure, are
called nocturnal, being formed to
admit a large pencil of rays of light,
and having the globe full and pro
minent, and the iris contractile, to
open the pupil to the greatest ex
tent. We have seen how their mo
tions and instincts correspond with
their nocturnal habits.
* The passage continues — " If the

intended prey moved, the spider
would keep pace with it exactly as
if they were actuated by one spirit,
moving backwards, forwards, or on
each side without turning. When
the fly took wing and pitched itself
behind the huntress, she turned
round with the swiftness of thought,
.and always kept her head towards
it, though to all appearance as im
moveable as one of the nails driven
into the wood on which was her sta
tion ; till at last, being arrived with
in due distance, swift as lightning
she made the fatal leap, and secured
her prey,"— Evelyn, as quoted by
Kirby and Spence.

Chap. II.

THE TIME OF THEIR EXISTENCE.

23

her plan : implying that she has produced animals which must
have lived miserably, and which she has effaced from the list of
living beings as failures. The Baron Cuvier does not express
himself more favourably, when he says of the existing species,
that they present so little resemblance to the organisation of
animals generally, and their structure is so much in contrast
with other creatures, that he could believe they were the rem
nants of an order unsuited to the present system of nature; and
we must seek for their congeners in the interior of the earth, in
the ruins of the ancient world.
But the animals of the Antediluvian world were not monsters ;
there was no lusus or extravagance. Hideous as they appear,
and like the phantoms of a dream, they were adapted to the
condition of the earth when they existed. I could have wished
that our naturalists had applied to the inhabitants of that early
condition of the globe, names less scholastic; we have the plesi-
osaurus, and plesiosaurus dolichodeiros, and ichthyosaurus,
megalosaurus, and hylaeosaurus, and iguanodon, pterodactyles,
with long and short beaks, tortoises, and crocodiles; these are
found among reeds and grasses of gigantic proportions, algas

and f uci ; and a great variety of mollusca, of inordinate bulk
compared with those of the present day, as ammonites and
nautili, are discovered in the same spots. Everything declares
that these animals inhabited shallow seas, and estuaries, or
great inland lakes : that the surface of the earth, at these parts,
did not rise up in peaks and mountains, or perpendicular rocks
bound in the seas ; but that it was flat, slimy, and covered with
a loaded and foggy atmosphere. Looking to the class of ani-

24

MAN SUITED TO THE PRESENT

Chap. II.

mals, as we have enumerated them, such a condition of the
earth would correspond with them : they were scaly; they swam
in water, or crept upon the margins ; they were not exposed to
animals possessing greater rapidity of motion, nor were there
birds of prey to stoop upon them; there was, in short, a balance
of the power of destruction and of self-preservation, the same as
we see now obtaining in higher animals since created, with in
finitely-varied instincts and means for defence or attack. There
is, indeed, every reason to believe that at that period, the classes
mammalia and birds* were not created. And it seems obvious
that if man had been placed upon the earth, when it was in
that condition, he must have had around him a state of things
neither suited to his constitution nor calculated to call forth his
capacities. It is hardly possible to watch the night and view the break
of day in a fine country, without being sensible that our pleas-
antest perceptions refer to the scenery of nature ; and that we
have feelings in sympathy with every successive change, from
the first streak of light until the whole landscape is displayed
in valleys, woods, and sparkling waters. The changes on the
scene are not more rapid than the transitions of the feelings
which attend them. Now, all these sources of enjoyment, the
clear atmosphere and the refreshing breezes, are as certainly the
result of the several changes which the Earth's surface has
undergone in the different epochs of its formation, as the dis
placed strata within its crust are demonstrative of those changes.
We have every reason to conclude that these revolutions, whether
they have been slowly and progressively accomplished, or by
sudden, vast, and successive convulsions, were necessary to pre
pare the earth for that condition which should correspond with
the faculties to be given to Man, and be suited to the full exer
cise of his reason, as well as to his enjoyment.
If a man contemplate the common objects around him — if he
observe the connexion between the qualities of things external
and the exercise of his senses, between the senses so excited
and the condition of his mind, he will perceive that he is in the

* In the secondary strata, of the
period sometimes called '* the age
of Reptiles," fossil foot-prints, sup
posed to be the impressions on

mud of the feet of Birds of gigantia
stature, have been recently found.
-(S.)

Chap. II. CONDITION OF THE EARTH. 25
centre of a magnificent system, prepared for his reception by a
succession of revolutions which have affected the whole globe ;
and that the strictest relation is established between his intel
lectual capacities and the material world.
In the succeeding chapter, we shall take a comparative view
of the anatomy of the arm ; and as we trace the same parts
through different genera and species of animals, some extra
ordinary changes in their forms will be presented. But before
proceeding to make that survey, we are naturally called upon
to notice certain opinions which prevail on the subject.
However interesting the recent inquiries of geologists may be,
they encourage a certain licence of fancy. During the remote
periods, dark in every sense, when mounds of stratified rock
were forming under interminable seas, what were the animated
beings suited to live in the then condition of the elements, must
be matter of conjecture. Materialists have long entertained the
question, did the first egg proceed from a bird, or the bird from
the egg? — But the hundred and ninety-nine theories on the
sources of life and organisation, and on the origin of animals,
whether by ancient or modern philosophers, are all fanciful, wild,
and unphilosophical, having no ground to rest upon ! — Nothing
is satisfactory until it is declared and believed, that it has been
the will of an Omnipotent Being to create — to form the earth
and to give life ; and that it was He who appointed the changes
to be wrought on the material, and gave the animating principle
to produce organisation in correspondence with these changes.
We have already hinted that, in the stratified rocks composing
the crust of the earth, geologists have discovered proofs of a
regular succession of formations ; and that animals of very dif
ferent structure have been imbedded, and are preserved in these
successive layers. In the earlier-formed strata, animals are
found which are low, as we choose to express it, in the chain of
existence; in higher strata, oviparous reptiles of great bulk,
and more complex structure, are discovered ; above the strata
containing these oviparous reptiles, there are found mammalia ;
and in the more superficial and recent strata, are the bones of
the mastodon, megatherium, rhinoceros, and elephant, &c. We
must add, that geologists agree that Man has been created last
of all.
Upon these facts, a theory is raised, that there has been a

26 OF THE SUCCESSION aNd" Chap. IL
succession or animals gradually increasing in the perfection of
their structure : that the first impulse of nature was not suffi
cient to the production of the highest and most perfect, and
that it was only in her mature efforts that mammalia were pro
duced. But we are led to this reflection : that the very formation
of a living animal, the bestowing Life on a corporeal frame,
however simple the structure, is of itself an act of Creative
Power so inconceivably great, that we cannot regard any change
in the organisation, such as providing bones and muscles, or
producing new organs of sense, as evincing a higher effort of
that Power. In exploring, therefore, the varieties of animated
nature, at those distinct epochs, we have a better guide, when
we acknowledge the manifest Design with which all has been
accomplished ; and the adaptation of the animals, their size,
their economy, their organs, and instruments, to their condition.
Whether we make the most superficial or most profound ex
amination of animals in their natural state, we shall find that
the varieties are so balanced as to insure the existence of all.
This, we think, goes far to explain why the remains of certain
animals are found in strata which indicate a peculiar condition
of the earth's surface ; and why particular animals only are
found grouped together. For, as we may express it, if there had
been an error in the grouping, there must have been a destruc
tion of the whole ; because the balance necessary to their exist
ence must have been destroyed.
We know very well that so minute a thing as a fly will pro
duce millions of the same kind, which, if not checked, will ere
long darken the air and render whole regions desolate ; so that
if the breeze does not carry them in due time into the desert or
into the ocean, the ravages committed by them will be most
fearful. As in the present day every creature has its natural
enemy, or is checked in production, sometimes by a limited
supply of food, sometimes by disease, or by the influence of sea
sons, and as in the whole a balance is preserved, so we may
reasonably apply the same principle to explain the condition of
things existing in the earlier stages of the world's progress.
Certainly, by what we have as yet discovered in the grouping o.
animals, in the different stratifications or deposits of the earth,
this view is borne out.

Chap. II. GROUPING OF ANIMALS. 27
If the naturalist or geologist, exploring the rocks of secondary
formation, should find inclosed within them animals of the class
mollusca, it would agree with his preconceived notions, that
animals of their simple structure alone existed during the sub
sidence of the material of which the rock consists. But if the
spine of a fish, or a jawbone, or a tooth, were discovered, he
would be much disturbed ; because here was the indication of
an animal having been at that time formed on a different type,
— on that plan which belongs to animals of a superior class.
Had he, on the contrary, supposed that animals were created
with a relation to those circumstances to which we have just
alluded, the discovery of such remains would only imply that
certain animals, which had hitherto increased undisturbedj had
arrived at a period when their numbers were to be limited ; or
that the condition of the elements, and the abundance of food,
were now suited to the existence of a species of the vertebrata.
The principle, then, in the application of which we shall be
borne out, is, that there is an adaptation, an established -and
universal relation between the instincts, organisation, and in
struments of animals, on the one hand, and the elements in
which they are to live, the position which they are to hold, and
their means of obtaining food, on the other ; — and this holds
good with respect to the animals which have existed, as well as
those which now exist.*
In discussing the subject of the progressive improvement of
organised beings, it is affirmed that man, the last created of all,
is not superior in organisation to the others ; and that if de
prived of intellectual power, he is inferior to the brutes. I am
not arguing to support the theory of the gradual development
and improvement of animals ; but, however indifferent to the
tendency of the argument, I must not admit the statement
Man is superior in organisation to the brutes— superior in
Strength — in that constitutional property which enables him to
fulfil his destinies, by extending his race in every climate, and
living on every variety of nutriment. On the other hand, gather
together the most powerful brutes, from the arctic circle or torrid
zone, to some central point— so ill suited is their constitution
to the change, that diseases will be generated, and they will be
* These questions have given rise I logists. See Sir Charles Lyell's An
to controversy among eminent geo- ) niversary Address, 1851.— (S.)

28 OF THE SUCCESSION AND Chap. IL
destroyed. With respect to the superiority of man being in his
mind, and not merely in the provisions of his body, it is no
doubt true ;— but as we proceed, we shall find how the Hand
supplies all instruments, and by its correspondence with the in
tellect, gives him universal dominion. It presents the last and
best proof in the order of creation, of that principle of adapta
tion which evinces design.
Another opinion requires to be noticed. It is alleged that
the variety of animals existing in the world is not a proof of
design, or of there being a relation between the formation of
their organs and the necessity for their exercise ; but it is sup
posed that the circumstances in which the animals have been
placed are the cause of the variety. It is pretended, that, in
the long progress of time, the influence of these circumstances
has produced a complication of structure out of an animal which
was at first simple. We shall reserve the discussion of this
theory until we have the data before us ; which alone, without
much argument, will suffice, we think, to overthrow it.
I may notice shortly another idea entertained by some natur
alists, who are pleased to reduce these differences in the struc
ture of animals, to general laws. It is affirmed that in the
centre of the animal body, no disposition to change is mani
fested; whilst in the extremities, on the contrary, surprising
variations of form are exhibited. If this be a law, there is no
more to be said about it ; the inquiry is terminated. But I
contend that the term is quite inapplicable, and worse than
useless, as tending to check inquiry. Why is the variation in
the form most common in the extremities, whilst towards the
centre of the skeleton there is comparative permanence? I
conceive the rationale to be this : that the central parts, by
which in fact we mean the skull, spine, and ribs, are in their
offices permanent ; whilst the extremities are adapted to every
exterior circumstance. In all animals, the office of the cranial
part of the skull is to protect the brain, that of the spine to
contain the spinal marrow, and that of the ribs to perform
respiration ; why should we expect these parts to vary in shape,
while their offices remain the same ? But the shoulder, on the
contrary, must vary in form, as it does in motion, in different
animals; so must the shape of the bones and of the joints more
distant from the centre be adapted to their various actions;

Chap. II.

GROUPING OF ANIMALS.

29

and the carpus, tarsus, and phalanges* must change more than
all the rest, to accommodate the extremities to their diversified
offices. Is it not more pleasing to see the reason of this most
surprising adjustment, than merely to say it is a law ? +
There is yet another opinion, which after perusing the fol
lowing chapter, will suggest itself to those who have read the
more modern works on Natural History. It is supposed that
tke same elementary parts belong to all animals ; and that it is
to the transposition of these elementary parts that the varieties
in their structure are attributable. I find it utterly impossible
to follow up that theory to the extent which its abettors would
persuade us to be practicable. I object to it as a means of en
gaging us in very trifling pursuits — and of diverting the mind
from the truth ; from that conclusion, indeed, to which I may
avow it to be my intention to carry the reader. But this dis
cussion also must follow the examples ; and we shall resume it
in a latter part of the volume.

* Carpus, the wrist ; tarsus, the
ankle or instep ; phalanges, the rows
of bones forming the fingers or toes.

+ See the Additional Illustrations
in the Appendix.

CHAPTER ILL
THE COMPARATIVE ANATOMY OF THE HAND.
I\ this inquiry, we have before us what in the strictest sense of
the word is a System. Of the extensive division of the animal
kingdom which we are about to review, viz., the vertebrated
animals, all the individuals possess a cranium for the protection
of the brain, — a heart, implying a peculiar circulation, — and
five distinguishable organs of sense ; but the grand peculiarity,
whence the term vertebrated is derived, is to be found in the
Spine — that chain of bones which connects the head and body,
and, like a keel, serves as the foundation of the ribs, or as the
basis of the fabric through which respiration is performed.
We are to confine ourselves, as we have said, to a portion only
of this combined structure ; to examine separately the Anterior
Extremity, and to observe the adaptation of its parts, through
the whole range of the vertebrated animals. We shall view it
as it exists in Man, and in the higher division of animals which
give suck, the mammalia ; and in those which propagate by
eggs, the oviparous animals, birds, reptiles, and fishes. In so
doing, we shall find the bones composing it identified by certain
common features, and yet in all the series, from the arm to the
fin, adjusted to various purposes. We shall recognise the same
bones formed, in the mole, into a powerful apparatus for digging,
by which the animal soon covers itself, and burrows its way
under ground ; in the wing of the eagle we shall count every

Chap. III.

ANATOMY OF THE HAND.

31

bone, and find that although adapted to a new element, they
are as powerful to rise in the air, as the fin of the salmon is to
strike through the water ; the solid hoof of the horse, the cleft
foot of the ruminant, the paw with retractile claws of the feline
tribe, and that with long folding nails of the sloth, are among
the many changes in the adjustment of the same chain of bones,
which ministers in man to the compound motions of the Hand.
Were it my purpose to teach the elements of this subject, I
should commence by examining, in the lowest vertebrated ani
mals, the earliest traces of the bones of the anterior extremity,
with the gradually-increasing resemblance to the human arm,
as we ascended in the scale ; and I should then point out the
greater variety of uses served by them in the higher animals.
But since my present object is illustration only, I shall begin
with the human arm ; and dividing it into the Shoulder, Arm,
and Hand, treat each subdivision with a reference to its struc
ture in inferior animals.
In viewing the human figure, or human skeleton, in connexion
with ourpresent subject, we cannot fail toremark thestrength and
solidity which belong to the lower extremities, in contrast with
those of the superior. Not only are the lower limbs proportion-
ably longer and larger in man than in any other animal, but the
haunch-bones (pelvis) are wider. The distances of the large pro
cesses on the upper ends of the thigh-bones (the trochanters), from
the sockets of the hips, are also greater than in any of the verte
brata. Altogether, the strength of the bones of the lower extremi
ties, the size and prominence of their processes, the great mass of
the muscles of theloins andhips, distinguish man from every other
animal ; they secure to him the upright posture, and give him the
perfect freedom of the arms, for purposes of ingenuity and art.
At the head of this chapter is a sketch, of the Chimpanzee,*

* Simia troglodytes, from the
coast of Guinea, more human in its
form, and more easily domesticated,
than the ouran-outang. We would
do well to consider the abode of
these creatures in a state of nature
— that they reside in vast forests,
extending in impenetrable shade be
low, whilst above and exposed to
the light, there is a scene of verdure
and beauty. Such is the home of
the monkeys and lemurs, that pos
sess extremities like hands. In

many of them the hinder extremity
has a more perfect resemblance to a
hand than the anterior ; in the Co-
aita (p. 13), we see the great toe as
suming the characters of a thumb,
whilst in the fore-paw the thumb is
not distinguishable, but is hid in the
skin. In short, these paws are not
approximations to the hand, corre
sponding with a higher ingenuity,
but are adaptations of the feet to
the branches on which the animals
climb and walk.

32

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY

Chap. III.

an ape which stands high in the order of quadrumana. Yet we
cannot mistake his capacities ; that the lower extremities and
pelvis, or hips, were never intended to give him the erect pos
ture, or only for a moment ; but for swinging, or for a vigorous
pull, who can deny the power in these long and sinewy arms ?
The full, prominent shoulders, and consequent squareness of
the trunk, are equally distinctive of man with the strength of
his loins ; they indicate free motion of the arm and hand.
The bones of the shoulder, which form the centre of motion
of the upper extremity, and afford origins of attachment to the
muscles of the arm, are simple in structure as they appear in
man, or in any single animal ; but if viewed in reference to their
analogies in the different classes of the Vertebrata, they present
remarkable varieties in shape, and assume an extraordinary
degree of intricacy. In all their modifications of form, how
ever, and notwithstanding the strange variations in the neigh
bouring parts, they retain their proper offices. In man, these
bones lie supported on the ribs, and are directly connected with
the great apparatus of respiration ; but in certain animals, as
in the frog, we shall see the ribs, as it were, withdrawn, and
the bones of the shoulder curiously and mechanically adapted
to perform their office, of giving a firm foundation to the ex
tremity, without the support of the thorax. We shall not,
however, anticipate the difficulties of the subject ; but look first
upon what is more familiar and easy, the shoulder in man, as
compared with some of its varieties in the mammalia.
of the clavicle.* The clavicle, or
collar - bone (b),
runs across from
the breast-bone (a)
to the tip of the
shoulder (e). The
square form of the
chest, and the free
exercise of the
hand, are very
much owing to this
cess of the Scapula. E, Acromion
process of the Scapula, forming the

Scapular Arch of Man.
* A, Triangular portion of the
Sternum, or breast-bone, b, b, Cla
vicle, or collar-bone, c, c, Scapula,
or shoulder-blade. D, Coracoid nro-

tip of the shoulder.

Chap. III.

OF THE SHOULDER

33

bone. It keeps the shoulders apart from the chest, and throws
the action of the muscles proceeding from the ribs, upon the
arm-bone ; which would otherwise be drawn inwards, and con
tract the upper part of the trunk.
If we examine the motions of the anterior extremity in differ
ent animals, it will guide us to see why in some this bone is
perfect, and in others, entirely wanting. Animals which fly, or
dig, or climb, as bats, moles, porcupines, squirrels, ant-eaters,
armadilloes, and sloths, possess the collar-bone ; for having a
lateral or outward motion of the extremity, that bone is required
to keep the shoulders apart. There is also a degree of freedom
of motion in the anterior extremity of the lion, cat, dog, martin,
and bear ; they strike with the paw, and rotate the wrist more
or less extensively ; and they have therefore a clavicle, though
an imperfect one. In some of these, as the lion, the bone occu
pying the place of the collar-bone is very imperfect indeed;
although attached to the shoulder, it does not extend to the
breast-bone (a), but lies concealed in the flesh, and is like a
mere rudiment of the bone. Yet, however imperfect, it marks
a correspondence in the bones of the shoulder to those of the
arm and paw, and the extent of motion enjoyed.
When the bear stands up, we perceive by his ungainly atti
tude and the move
ments of his paws,
that there must be a
wide difference in the
bones of his upper
extremity from those
of the hoofed or cleft-
footed animal. He
can take the keeper's
hat from his head,
and hold it ; or can
hug an animal to
death. The ant-bear
especially, as he is
deficient in teeth,
possesses extraordi
nary powers of hug
ging with his great paws ; and, although harmless in disposi
tion, he can on occasion squeeze his enemy, the jaguar, to death.
c

34

COMPARATIVE ANATOMT

Chap. III.

These actions, and the power of climbing, result from the
structure of the shoulder, from there being a collar-bone, how
ever imperfect.
Although in man the clavicle is perfect, thereby correspond
ing with the extent and freedom of motion of his hand, yet in
some animals which dig or fly, as the mole and bat, the bone is
comparatively stronger and longer.
Preposterous as appears the form of the kangaroo, yet, even
in this animal, a relation is preserved between the extremities.
He sits upon his strong hind-legs and tail, tripod-like, with
perfect security; and has his fore-paws free. He has a clavicle,
and it is from possessing that bone and the corresponding
motions, that he can employ his paws as a means of defence ;
for with the anterior extremities he will seize the most power
ful dog, and then drawing up his hinder feet, dig his sharp-
pointed hoofs into his enemy, striking out, and tearing him
to pieces. Though possessed, therefore, of no great speed, and
unprovided with horns, teeth, or claws, but, as we should sup
pose, totally defenceless, nature has not been negligent of his
protection.* It cannot be better shown, how the function or use of a part
determines its structure, than by looking to the clavicle and
scapula of the bird.
The chief peculiarity of birds is, that in flying they do not
strike out their wings with an alternate motion, but their ex
tremities, as we may continue to call them, move together.
Now, three bones converge to constitute the shoulder-joint of
the bird : the scapula, clavicle, and coracoid bone.t But neither
the scapula nor clavicle has the resemblance which their names
would imply. The scapula is the long thin bone, like the blade

* In the form of the kangaroo, and
especially in its skeleton, there is
something incongruous, and in con
trast with the usual shape of quad
rupeds. The head, trunk, and fore-
paws appear to be a portion of a
Bmaller animal unnaturally joined
to the legs of another of greater
dimensions and strength. It is not
easy to say what are, or what were,
the exterior relations corresponding
with the very peculiar form of this
animal ; but the interior anatomy is
accommodated, in a most remark

able manner, to the enormous hinder
extremities. The subject is taken up
in the "Additional Illustrations" at
the latter part of the volume, on the
"General Form of the Skeleton."
+ In man, the coracoid bone is a
process of the scapula; but late com
parative researches into the "type"
of the vertebral skeleton, make it
appear that, although joined in man
to the shoulder-blade, the coracoid
is a distinct elementary bone of tho
" scapular arch," or basis of the
upper extremity. — (S.)

Chap. III.

OF THE SCAPULA.

35

of a knife ; and the clavicles are united at the centre, near the
breast-bone, to form the furculum, or fork-bone, which, in carv
ing, we detach, after removing the wings of a fowl. This leaves
that stronger portion of bone which is articulated with the
breast-bone, as a new
part; and although it
corresponds with the
place of the clavicle,
yet, from its bearing an
analogy to a process of
the irregularly-formed
scapula in mammalia,
it is called coracoid
bone. However this
may be, what we have
to admire, is the mode
in which the bones are
fashioned to strength
en the articulation of
the shoulder, and to
give extent of surface
for the attachment of Skeletons of Eagle and Lizard.
the muscles which move the wings, as long levers, in flight.
OF THE SCAPULA.
By attending to the scapula, or shoulder-blade, we shall better
understand the influence of the bones of the shoulder on the
motions and speed of animals. The scapula is that flat trian
gular bone which lies on the ribs, 'and is cushioned with
muscles. On its anterior angle there is a depressed surface, the
glenoid cavity or socket for the arm-bone. The scapula shifts
and revolves on the ribs with each movement of the arm. To
produce these movements, the muscles converge towards it from
all sides, from the head, spine, ribs, and breast-bone, and, by
acting in succession, they roll the scapula and toss the arm in
every direction. When the muscles combine in action, they fix
the bone, and either raise the ribs in drawing breath, or give
firmness to the whole frame of the trunk.
Before remarking further on the influence of the scapulae on
the motions of the arms, I shall give an instance to prove their
importance to the function just referred to, that of assisting in

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY

Chap. III.

drawing in the breath. Hearing that there was a poor lad of
fourteen years of age born without arms, and whose unhappy
condition had excited the benevolence of some ladies, I sent for
him. I found that indeed he had no arms, but he had clavicles
and scapulae. When I made this boy draw his breath, the
shoulders were elevated; that is to say, the scapulae, being
drawn up, became the fixed points from which the broad
muscles diverging from it towards the ribs, acted in raising
and expanding the chest in respiration. We would do well to
remember this double office of the scapula and its muscles ; that
: whilst it is the foundation of the bones of the upper extremity,
' and never wanting in an animal that has the most remote re
semblance to an arm, yet it is the centre also and point oVappui
of the muscles of respiration, and acts in that capacity even
when there are no extremities at all.*
We have seen that it is only in certain classes of animals,
that the scapula is articulated to the trunk by bone through the
medium of a clavicle. A slight depression, therefore, on that
process of the scapula (acromion process, E. fig. p. 32) to which
the clavicle is attached, when discovered in a fossil bone, will
declare to the geologist the class to which the animal belonged
For example, there are brought over to this country the bones
of the Megatherium, an animal which must have been larger
than the elephant ; of the anterior extremity, the scapula only
has been found; but on the end of the process, called acromion,
of this bone, the mark of the attachment of a clavicle is dis
covered. Now that alone points out the whole constitution of
the extremity ; that it enjoyed perfect freedom of motion. Other
circumstances will declare whether that extensive motion was be
stowed to enable the animal to dig with its huge claws, like some
of the edentata, or to strike out in defence, like the feline tribe.
Some interest is attached to the position of the scapula, in
the horse. In him, as well as in other quadrupeds, with the
exceptions already pointed out, the clavicle is absent ; the con
nexion between the anterior extremity and the trunk exists
solely through muscles : and the muscle called serratus magnus,
which is large in man, is particularly powerful in the horse; for
* Some curious facts, illustrative the author's paper on the "Voice,''
of this office of the muscles of the arm in the Philosophical Transactions,
situated on the chest, are stated in 1832. — (S.)

Chap. III.

OF THE SCAPULA.

37

the weight of the trunk hangs almost exclusively upon this
muscle. * But the speed of the horse, as in most quadrupeds,
results from the strength of his loins and hinder extremities ; it
is the action of the muscles situated there, which propels him
forwards, in the gallop or at the leap. We accordingly perceive
that if the anterior extremities had been joined to the trunk
firmly, as by a clavicle, that bone could not have withstood the
shock from the descent of the whole weight of the animal when
thrown forwards. Even though the fore-legs had been formed
as powerful as the posterior extremities, they would have suf
fered fracture or dislocation. We cannot but admire, therefore,
this provision, in all quadrupeds whose speed is great and spring
extensive, for diminishing the shock of descending, and giving
an elasticity to the anterior extremities.
In observing the relative position of the bones of the anterior
extremity in the horse, we shall perceive that the scapula is

oblique to the chest; the humerus oblique to the scapula; and
the bones of the fore-arm at an angle with the humerus. Were
these bones arranged in a straight line, end to end, the shock of
alighting would be conveyed as through a solid column ; and
the bones of the foot, or the joints, would suffer from the con-
When the rider is thrown forwards on his hands, and

cussion.

* The serratus magnus, attached
extensively to the ribs near the
breast-bone, ascends convergingly to

the upper border of the scapula, neai
the withers.

38 COMPARATIVE ANATOMY Chap. III.
more certainly when he is pitched on his shoulder, the collar
bone is broken; because in man, this bone forms the link oi
connexion between the shoulder and the trunk, and it accord
ingly receives the whole shock. Now the same would happen
in the horse, the stag, and all quadrupeds of great strength and
swiftness, were not the scapulae sustained by muscles, in place
of bone, and did not the bones recoil and fold up.
The horse-jockey runs his hand down the horse's neck, in a
knowing way, and says, " This horse has got a heavy shoulder ;
he is a slow horse ! " He may be right, and yet not understand
the matter. It is not possible that the shoulder can be too much
loaded with muscle, for muscle is the source of motion, and be
stows power. What the jockey feels, and forms his judgment
on, is the abrupt transition from the neck to the shoulder ; while,
in a horse for the turf, there ought to be a smooth undulating
surface. This abruptness, or prominence of the shoulder, is a
consequence of the upright position of the scapula; the slop
ing and light shoulder results from its obliquity. An upright
shoulder is therefore the mark of a stumbling horse : the scapula
does not revolve easily, to throw forward the foot.
Much of the strength, if not the freedom and rapidity of
motion of a limb, will depend on the angle at which the bones
lie to each other ; for that mainly affects the insertion, and, con
sequently, the power of the muscles. We know, and may every
moment feel, that when the arm is extended, we possess little
power in bending it ; but in proportion as we bend it, the power
is increased. This is owing to the change in the direction of the
muscular force acting upon the bone ; or, in other words, to the
tendon of the muscle becoming more perpendicular to the lever.
A scapula which inclines obliquely backwards, increases the
angle at which the humerus, or arm-bone, lies with reference to
it : and, consequently, the muscles which pass from it to the arm-
bone, will act with greater effect, from being inserted into that
bone more nearly at a right angle. We have only to turn to the
skeleton of the elephant, the ox, the elk, or the stag, to see the
confirmation of this principle. When the scapula lies obliquely
on the chest, the serratus muscle, which passes from the ribs to
its uppermost part, has more power in rolling it. This direction
of the scapula causes it to lie at right angles with the humerus ;
and, accordingly, the muscles which are attached to the latter

Chap. III.

OF THE CLAVICLE.

39

(at b) act with more effect. And on the same principle, by the
oblique position of the humerus, and, consequently, its obliquity
in reference to the
radius and ulna, the
two bones of the
fore-arm, the power
of the muscle in
serted (at c) into
the olecranon, is
increased. On the
whole, both power
and elasticity are
gained by this posi
tion of the superior
bones of the fore
leg. It gives to the
animal that springs
a larger stretch in
throwing himself
forwards, and a
greater security, by
a soft descent of
his weight. A man,
standing upright,
cannot leap or start
off at once; he must
first sink down, and
bring the bones of
his extremities to an angle. But the antelope, or other timid
animals of the class, can leap at once, or start off in their course
without preparation — another advantage of the oblique position
of their bones when at rest.
These sketches with the pen are from the skeletons of the
elephant and the camel : and it is obvious that the leg of the
former is built for the purpose of sustaining the huge bulk of
the animal, whilst in the camel there is a perfect contrast.
Were we to compare the bones of the larger animal with any
style of architecture, it would be with the Egyptian ; or rather
* A, Scapula. E, Humerus, or ] Humerus, o, Olecranon, or pro.
arm-bone. B, Tuberosity of the | jection of the Ulna. D, Radius.

40

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY

Chap. III.

from their huge and shapeless form, and being piled over each
other, as if destined more to sustain weight than to permit mo

tion, they might be ukened to the unwrought masonry in the
Cyclopian walls of some ancient city.
We further perceive, from the comparison of these sketches,

Chap. IIL,

OF THE CLAVICLE.

41

that if the humerus be placed obliquely, it must necessarily be
short ; otherwise the leg would be thrown too far back, making
the head and neck project inordinately. It is one of the " points"
of a horse to have the humerus short. And not only all animals
of speed, but birds of long flight, as the swallow, have the hu
merus short. This is owing, I think, to another circumstance,
that the shorter the humerus, the quicker will be the extension
of the wing : for as the further extremity of the bone, when short,
will move in a lesser circle, the gyration will be more rapid.
If we continue this comparative view of the bones of the
shoulder, we shall be led to notice other curious modifications.
In man and mammalia, two objects, we have seen, are attained
in the construction of these bones ; besides forming the basis
for the other bones of the upper extremity, the shoulder-bones
constitute an important part of the organ of respiration, and
conform to the structure of the chest. But we shall find that
in some animals, the latter function is in a manner withdrawn
from them ; the scapulae and clavicles are left without the sup
port of the ribs. In order therefore to give due firmness to the
shoulder, these bones
require additional
carpentry ; or they
must be laid together
on a different prin
ciple. In the batra-
chian order,* for ex
ample the frog, the
mechanism of respi
ration is altogether
distinct from what it
is in the mammalia :
the thorax, as consti
tuted of ribs, is ab
sent. Accordingly, we
find the bones of the shoulder constructed on a new model; they
form a broad and flat collar, sufficient to give secure attachment

Scapular Arch of Frog.

* In this figure of the "scapular
arch" of the frog, the breast-bone
has its lower face upwards. The
clavicles and coracoid bones meet in

the centre : the broad flat scapulas
join the two latter to form the
sockets of the shoulder-joints.

42

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY

Chap. III.

to the extremity, and affording ample space for the lodgment of
the muscles which move the arm. Perhaps the best example of
that structure is visible in the siren and proteus ; where the ribs
are reduced to a very few imperfect processes attached to the
vertebrae ; and where the bones of the shoulder, being deprived,
accordingly, of aU support from the thorax, depend upon them
selves for security.* Here the bones corresponding to the
sternum, clavicles, corar
coids, and scapulas, are
found clinging to the
spine, and, like the pel-
vis,t forming a circle,
to the lateral parts of
which the arm -bones
are articulated.
In the chelonian or
der, the tortoises, we
see a similar design ac
complished by another
adjustment, or mode of
union of these bones;
and the change is owing
Anterior Extremity of Siren. tQ & yery curjous cjr.
cumstance. The spine and ribs are placed like rafters under
the strong shell which forms the covering or carapace of these
animals ; and being united to this shell, they are consequently
external to the bones of the shoulder. Hence the scapulae and
clavicles being within the thorax, instead of outside and sup
ported by it, it is necessary, in order to convert them into fixed
points for the motions of the extremities, that they fall together,
and form a circle. Indeed, considering the new circumstances in
which they are required to act as a basis for the extremity, it
would be strange if they preserved any resemblance to the forms
which we have been contemplating in the higher animals. In the
following figure, the bones of the shoulder of the turtle are repre
sented ; and it is readily perceived how much they are changed
both in shape and office. The part most like a scapula, lies on
* The Scapula, Clavicle, Sternum, f The pelvis is the circle of bones
and Coracoid bone, may be recog- on which the spine or back-bone
nised in this figure of the bones of the rests, and in which are the sockets
anterior extremity of the Siren. for the beads of the thigh-bosss.

Chap. III.

IN THE CHELONIAN ORDER.

43

the fore instead of the back part ; and the bones which hold the
shoulders apart, abut upon the spine, instead of upon the ster
num. Hence it appears idle to describe these bones under the
old denominations, or
by names applicable to
their condition in the
higher animals.
In fishes, although Bi j
the apparatus of re
spiration is entirely dif
ferent from what it is
in mammalia, and there
are no proper ribs, the
bones which give at
tachment to the pecto
ral fin are still called the
bones of the shoulder.
The system of bones
named " scapular arch,"
is, in fact, attached to
the skull, instead of to
the ribs or spine; so
that the structure corresponding to the shoulder, consists of a
circle of bones, which, we may say, seeks security of attach
ment by approaching the more solid part, the head, in defect
of a firm foundation in the thorax, f
Thus it has been shown that the bones which form the
shoulder-joint, and give a foundation to the anterior extremity,
are submitted to a new modelling in correspondence with every
variety in the apparatus of respiration ; and still they maintain
their pristine office.

Shoulder-bones of Turtle. *

* a, Scapula. 5, Acromion process.
c, Coracoid bone, d, Glenoid cavity.
f Mr Owen has applied his ex
tensive knowledge of osteology, and
philosophical views of the relations
of the structure of animals to a gene
ral type, to establish some interest
ing points which bear on questions
treated of in these pages. By tak
ing into view the elementary parts
which constitute a typical vertebra,
and subdividing the cranial bones

into four vertebral segments, he
has been led, by an able course of
induction, embracing the skeletons
of animals from the fish to man, to
the conclusion — "that the human
hands and arms, in relation to the
vertebral archetype, are parts of
the head; diverging appendages of
the costal and hcemal arch uf tne
occipital segment of tho skull." See
his " Discourse on the Nature of
Limbs," 1849— (S.)

44 COMPARATIVE ANATOMY Chap. III.
The naturalist will not be surprised on finding in the shoulder
apparatus of the ornithorhynchus paradoxus, an extraordinary
intricacy ; since the whole frame and organs of this animal
imply that it is intermediate between mammalia and birds ; for
which reason it has been placed in the list of edentata. This
animal affords another instance of the changes which the bones
of the shoulder. undergo with every new office, that they may
correspond with the motions of the extremity ; whether it be to
support the weight in running, or to give freedom to the arm,
or to provide for flying, or to enable the animal either to creep
or to swim.
Unprofitable as the inquiry may seem, there is no other way
for the geologist to distinguish the genera of the extinct and
strangely-formed oviparous reptiles embedded in the secondary
strata, than by studying in the recent species, the minute pro
cesses and varying characters of these bones. In the ichthyo
saurus, and plesiosaurus, the inhabitants of a former world, there
is a considerable deviation from the general type of the bones of
the arm and hand, as compared with the same parts in the frog
and tortoise ; but, if strength were the object, we should say
that the bones of the shoulder were formed in these extinct
reptiles, with a greater degree of perfection. The explanation
is, that the ribs and sterno-costal arches, constituting the thorax,
were more perfect in them than in the chelonian and batrachian
orders; whence the bones of the shoulder were situated ex
ternally, and resembled those of the crocodile. Yet, notwith
standing this superiority, the ribs were obviously not strong
enough to sustain the powerful action of the muscles of the an
terior extremities, or paddles; accordingly, the bones, which
by a kind of licence we continue to call clavicle, omoplate or
scapula, and coracoid, though strangely deviating from their
original forms and connexions, constitute a structure of con
siderable strength, which perfects the anterior part of the
trunk, and gives attachment and lodgment to the powerful
muscles of the paddle.
But it does not appear that naturalists have hit upon the
right explanation of the peculiar structure and curious varie
ties of these bones in the class of reptiles. Why is the appara
tus of respiration so totally changed in these animals? They
are cold-blooded animals; they require to respire less fre-

Chap. III. OP THE HUMERUS. 45
quently than other creatures, and they remain long under the
water. I conceive that the peculiarity in their mode of respir
ation corresponds with this property. Hence their vesicular
lungs ; their mode of swallowing the air, instead of inhaling it ;
and hence, especially, their power of compressing the body and
expelling the air. It is this provision for emptying the lungs,
I imagine, which enables reptiles to go under the water and
crawl upon the bottom. Had they possessed the lungs of
warm-blooded animals, which are compressible only in a slight
degree, their capacity of remaining under water would have
been of no use; when they dived, they would have had to
struggle against their own buoyancy, like a man, or any of the
mammalia, when submerged. The girdle of bones of the shoul
der is constituted, therefore, with a certain relation to the pecu
liar action of respiration ; inasmuch as the pliancy of the thorax
is provided in order that the vesicular lungs may be easily com
pressed, and the specific weight diminished. The facility which
the absence of ribs in the batrachian order affords, for compress
ing the lungs extended through the abdomen, and the extreme
weakness and pliancy of the ribs in the saurians, must be, as I
apprehend, peculiarities adapted to the same end.
OF THE HUMERUS, OK AEM-BONE.
The demonstration of this bone need not be so dry a matter
of detail as the anatomist makes it. From its form may be
deduced that curious relation of parts which has been so suc
cessfully employed by Paley to prove design, and from which
the genius of Baron Cuvier has brought out some of the finest
examples of inductive reasoning.
In looking to the head of this bone in the human skeleton,
(see the fig. in p. 32,) we observe its great hemispherical surface
for articulating with the glenoid cavity or socket of the scapula;
and we see that the two tubercles for the insertion of muscles
near the joint are depressed, and do not interfere with the re
volving of the humerus by striking against the edges of the
socket. Such appearances alone are sufficient to show that all
the motions of the arm are free.
To give assurance of this, and to illustrate how the form of
the shoulder points to the structure of the whole arm, suppose
that the geologist has picked up this bone in interesting circum-

46

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY

Chap. Ill

Arm-bone of Bear.
rus thus characterised,

stances. To what animal does it belong ? The globular form
of the articulating surface, and the very slight projection of the
tubercles, evince a latitude of mo
tion. Now, freedom of motion in
the shoulder implies a similar free
dom in the extremity or paw, and
a power of rotation of the wrist.
Accordingly, we direct the eye to
that part of the bone which gives
origin to the muscles for turning
the wrist (the Supinator muscles);
and the prominence and the length
of the ridge or crest, situated on
the lower and outer side, from
which these muscles arise, at once
prove their strength, and that the
paw had free motion.
Therefore, on finding the hume-
conclude that it belonged to an
animal with sharp moveable claws— that, in all probability, it
is the remains of a bear.
But, suppose that the upper
head of the bone has a diffe
rent character: that the tu
bercles project, so as to limit
the motion in every direction
but one, and that the articu
lating surface is less regularly
convex. On inspecting the
lower extremity of such a
bone, we shall perceive that
the grooves into which the
bones of the fore-arm are
socketed, are hollowed out so
deeply that the joint could
only have the motion of a
simple hinge; and neither the
form of the articulating sur
face, (which is here called tro
chlea,) nor the crest or spine

Arm-bone of Horse.

Chap. III.

OF THE HUMERUS.

47

above noticed on the outside, will present any signs of one bone
of the fore-arm having rotated on the other. We have, there
fore, got the bone of an herbivorous quadruped, either with
a solid or with a cloven foot.
In the bat and mole, perhaps, the best examples are seen of
the bones of the extremity being moulded to correspond with
the condition of the animaL The mole is fitted, by means of

From the Mole.
its anterior extremities, to plough its way under-ground. The
bat has the same system of bones ; but they are adapted to form
a wing for raising the animal in the atmosphere, and with a
provision for its clinging to the wall, although not to bear upon
it. In both these animals we recognise every bone of the upper
extremity; but how very differently formed and joined! In the
mole, the sternum, or breast-bone, and the clavicle, are remark
ably large : the scapula, or shoulder-blade, assumes the form of
a high lever : the humerus is thick and short, and has such pro
minent spines for the attachment of muscles as to indicate great
power. The spines which give origin to the muscles of rotation,
project in an extraordinary manner; and the hand is large, flat,
and so turned that it may shove the earth aside like a plough
share.*

* The snout may vary in its in
ternal structure with new offices.
Naturalists say that there is a new
"element" in the pig's nose: and it
has, in fact, two bones which admit

of motion, whilst they give more
strength in digging up the ground.
As moles plough the earth with their
snouts, they likewise have these
bones, and their head is shaped like

43

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY

Chap. III.

There can be no greater contrast to these bones of the mole
than is presented in the skeleton of the bat. In this animal the
bones are light
and delicate ;
and whilst they
are all marvel
lously extended,
the phalanges,
or the rows of
bones of the fin
gers, are elon
gated so as hard
ly to be recog
nised, obviously
for the purpose
of sustaining
the membran
eous web, and
to form a wing.
Contemplat
ing this extra
ordinary appli-
Skeieton 01 Bat. cation of the
bones of the upper extremity in the bat, we might be led to say,
on comparing it with the wing of a bird, that it was an awkward
attempt — " a failure." But before giving expression to such an
opinion, we must understand the objects required in this con
struction. The wing of the bat is not intended merely for flight :
it is so formed that while it can sustain the animal in flying, it
shall be capable also of receiving a new sensation on its surface,
or sensations of such an exquisite degree of fineness as- almost
to constitute a new sense. On the thin web of the bat's wing
numerous nerves are distributed; and the use of these is to
enable the animal, during the obscurity of night, when both
eyes and ears fail, to avoid objects in its flight. Could the wing
t, wedge, to assist in burrowing and in other animals, to assist in moving
throwing aside the earth. The con- the head, are among the curious
formation of the head, and the changes of common parts for enabling
strength of its bones, and the new them to perform new offices. Seo
adjustment of the muscle (the via- again the "Additional Illustrations"
' , which is cutaneous in the Appendix,

Chap. III.

OF THE ANT-EATER.

49

of a bird, covered with feathers, do this? Here then we have
another example of the necessity of taking every circumstance
into consideration before presum
ing to criticise the ways of nature.
It is a lesson of humility.*
We have here a sketch of the
arm-bone of the Ant-eater, f to
show once more the correspond
ence maintained throughout all the
parts of an extremity. We ob
serve these extraordinary spines
standing off from the humerus.
Now, these indicate the power of
the muscles attached to the bone;
for, as I have said before, whether
we examine the human body, or
the forms of the bones in the lower
animals, the distinctness with
which the spines and processes are
marked, declares the strength of
the muscles. It is particularly
pleasing to notice here the corre
spondence between the humerus
and all the other bones, — how
large, in the first place, the scapula
is, and how it has a double spine,
with great processes : how remark-

* Besides the adaptation of the bat
for flight, by the adjustment of the
bones of its arm, this animal has a series
of cells situated under its skin. I know
not whether I am correct or not in say
ing that these are analogous to the air-
cells of birds, and serve to make the bat
specifically lighter. In some species
they extend over the breast, and into
the arm-pits, and are filled by an orifice
which communicates with the throat. _
I have adverted to the provisions in
the bones of the shoulder of the bird to
give firmness to the joint, seeing that
it is the centre of motion for the wing.
Now, although the bat has not the
same arrangement of bones as the

bird, yet the clavicles are re
markably strengthened : and tho
articulation of the arm-bone up
on the shoulder-blade is guarded
by processes in such a maimer
that the motion of the joint is
extremely limited.
t Tamandua, from South
America.

50 STRUCTURE OF BIRDS. Chap. Ill
ably the ulna projects at the olecranon or elbow, while the radius
is still free for rotating : but above all, we cannot fail to observe
in the development of one grand metacarpal bone and its corre
sponding phalanges, to the last of which a strong claw is attached,
a most efficient instrument for scratching and turning aside an
.ant-hill. The whole, therefore, is an example of the relation of the
particular parts of the extremity to one another ; and were it our
business, it would be easy to show that as there is a correspond
ence among the bones of the arm, so is there a more universal
relation between those of the whole skeleton. As the structure
of the bones of the arm declares the extremity to be adapted for
digging into ant-hills, so we shall not be disappointed in our
expectation of finding that the animal has a projecting muzzle
unarmed with teeth, and a long tongue provided with a glutin
ous secretion, to lick up the emmets disturbed by its scratch
ing. In the skeleton of the Cape-mole, we may see, in the projec
tion of the acromion scapulas, and a remarkable process in the
middle of the humerus, a provision for the rotation of the arm ;
which implies burrowing. But the apparatus is by no means
so perfect as in the common mole ; so that we may infer that
the Cape-mole digs in a softer soil, whilst the possession of
gnawing teeth indicates that it subsists on roots.
In Birds, there is altogether a new condition of the osseous
system, as there is a new element to contend with. The very
peculiar form and structure of their skeleton may be thus
accounted for. First, it is necessary that birds, as they are
buoyed in the air, should be specifically light ; secondly, the
capacity of their chest must be extended, and the motions of
their ribs limited, so that the muscles of the wings may have
sufficient space and firmness for their attachment. Both these
objects are attained by a modification of the apparatus for
breathing. The lungs are highly vascular and spongy, but they
are not capable of being distended with air ; the air is drawn
through their substance, passing, by means of numerous orifices,
into cells under their skin, and even filling the interior of their
bones ; so that whilst the great office of decarbonisation of the
blood is securely performed, advantage is taken to let the air,
warmed and rarefied by the high temperature of their bodies,
into all their cavities.

Chap. III. STRUCTURE OF BIRDS. 51
From what was said, in the introductory chapter, of the
weight of the body being a necessary concomitant of muscular
strength, we see why the lightness of the bird, as well as the
conformation of its skeleton, may be a reason for its walking
badly. On the other hand, in observing how that lightness is
adapted for flight, it is remarkable what a small addition to the
weight will prevent the bird from rising on the wing. If the
griffon-vulture be scared after his repast, he must disgorge be
fore he can fly ; and so with the condor, — if found in the same
circumstances, he can be taken by the Indians, like a quadruped,
by throwing the lasso over his neck.*
As every one must have observed, the breast-bone of the bird
extends the whole length of the body, covering the great cavity,
common to the chest and abdomen, into which the air is ad
mitted. Now, it follows from this extension of the breast-bone,
that a lesser degree of motion suffices for respiration ; accord
ingly, a greater surface is obtained for the lodgment and attach
ment of the muscles of the wings, whilst that surface being less
disturbed by the action of breathing, is more steady. Another
peculiarity of the skeleton of the bird is, that the vertebrae,
instead of being moveable on each other, are consolidated : an
additional proof, if any were now required, of the whole system
of bones conforming to that of the extremities ; because, to give
effect to the action of the muscles of the wings, it is necessary
that all the bones of the trunk to which they are attached
should be united firmly together.t
From the vertebrae of the bird being thus fixed, and the pelvis
reaching high, no motion can take place in the body ; indeed, if
there were any mobility in the back, it would be interrupted by
the sternum or breast-bone. We cannot but admire, therefore,
the structure of the neck and head ; how the length and plia
bility of the vertebrae of the neck not only give to the bill the
extent of motion and office of a hand, but, by enabling the bird
to preserve its balance in standing, running, or flying, become a
substitute for the loss of flexibility in the body. Is it not
curious to observe how the whole skeleton is adapted to this
one object, the power of the wings !
Whilst the ostrich and other " runners " have not got a heel
* The subject is continued in the I t The ostrich and cassowary, which
"Additional niustrations." I are runners, have the spine loose.

52

STRUCTURE OF BIRDS.

Chap. III.

in their breast-bone, birds of passage are recognisable by the
depth of the ridge of the sternum. The reason is, that the

angular space formed by that process and the body of the bone
affords lodgment for the pectoral muscle, the powerful muscle
of the wing. In this sketch of the dissection of the swallow
there is a curious resemblance to the human arm ; and we can
not fail to observe that the pectoral muscle constitutes the
greater part of the bulk of the body.* And here we perceive
the correspondence between the strength of this muscle and the
rate of flying of the swallow, which is a mile in a minute, for
ten hours every day, or six hundred miles a day.f If it be
true that birds, in migrating, require a wind that blows against
them,]: it implies an extraordinary power, as well as continu
ance, of muscular exertion.

* Borelli makes the pectoral mus
cles of a bird exceed in weight all
the other muscles taken together ;
whilst he calculates that in man the
pectoral muscles are but a seven
tieth part of the mass of muscles.
+ Mr White says truly that the
swift lives on the wing ; it eats,
drinks, and collects materials for its
nest while flying, and never rests
but during darkness. No bird equals
the humming-bird in its powers of

flight, and, accordingly, it has a
broader sternum, and a greater pro
minence of keel, in proportion to its
size, than any other bird. It may
be mentioned, that in the sternum
of the bat a very distinct ridge is de
veloped, corresponding with the keel
of the bird.
J It is possible that the wind blow
ing near the ground in one direction,
may be attended with a current of a
higher stratum of the atmosphere in

Chap. III. STRUCTURE ADAPTED FOR FLYING. 53
We thus see how Nature completes her work when the ani
mal is destined to rise buoyant and powerful in the air : — the
whole texture of the frame is altered, and made light in a man
ner consistent with strength; the mechanism of the anterior
extremity is changed, and the muscles of the trunk are differ
ently directed. But we are tempted to examine other instances,
where the means, we would almost say, are more awkwardly
suited for their purpose ; that is, where the system of bones
and muscles peculiar to the quadruped being preserved, the ani
mal has still the power of launching into the air. We have
already noticed how the structure of the bat is adapted to
flight; but there are other animals, differing from birds more
widely than it, which enjoy the function, though in a lesser
degree. For example, the flying squirrel (Pleromys volucella),
being chased to the end of a bough, spreads out the mantle
which reaches along both its sides from the anterior to the
posterior extremity, and drops in the air; and during its
descent, it is met by such a resistance of the air from its
extended skin and bushy tail, that it can direct its flight
obliquely, and even turn, without any adaptation of the anterior
extremity. Among reptiles, a provision of the same kind exists
in the Draco fimbriatus ; which, after creeping to a height, can
drop safely to the ground, under the protection of a sort of para
chute, formed by its extended skin. This is no inapt illustra
tion : it is not the bones of the fingers that are here used to
extend the web; but the ribs, which are unnecessary, in this
animal, for breathing, are prolonged in a remarkable manner,
like the whalebones of an umbrella, and upon them the skin
is expanded.
This brings us to a very curious subject, — the condition of
some of those Saurian reptiles, the remains of which are found
only in a fossil state, most abundantly in the lias and oolite,
termed the ancient strata of the Jura. The Pterodactyle of
Cuvier is an animal which seems to confound all our notions of
Bystem. A lizard, yet its mouth was like the long bill of a bird,
and its flexible neck corresponded ; but it had teeth in its jaws
like those of a crocodile. The bones of the anterior extremity
were elongated, and fashioned somewhat like those in the wing
a contrary direction, and that the I the wind may have arisen from that
idea of migrating birds flying against | mistake.

54 ANATOMY OF Chap. III.
of a bird; but it could not have had feathers, as it had not a
proper bill ; we see no creature with feathers that has not a bill
with which to dress and preen them. Nor did the extremity
resemble that of a bat in structure : instead of the rows of
bones being equally prolonged in all the fingers, as in the bat,
the second finger only was extended to an extraordinary length ;
whilst the third, fourth, and fifth had the size and articulations
of those of a quadruped, and were terminated with sharp nails
corresponding to the pointed teeth. The extended bones
reached to double the whole length of the animal, and the con
jecture is, that a membrane, resembling that of the Draco fim
briatus, was expanded upon them. In the imperfect specimens
upon which we have to found our reasoning, we cannot dis
cover, either in the height of the hip-bones, the strength of the
vertebras of the back, or the expansion of the breast-bone, a pro
vision for the attachment of muscles commensurate with the
extent of the supposed wing. The arm-bone and the bones
which we presume to be the scapula and coracoid, bear some
correspondence to the extent of the wing: but the extraordi
nary circumstance of all is the size and strength of the bones of
the jaw and vertebrae of the neck, compared with the smallness
of the body and the extreme delicacy of the ribs ; which makes
this altogether a being the most incomprehensible in nature.
OF THE EADIUS AND ULNA.
The easy motion of the hand, we might imagine to result
from the structure of the hand itself ; but, on the contrary, the
movements which appear to belong to it, are divided among all
the bones of the extremity.*
The head of the arm-bone is rotatory on the shoulder-blade,
as when making the guards in fencing ; but the easier and finer
rolling of the wrist is accomplished by the motion of one bone
of the fore-arm upon the other. The ulna has a hooked pro
cess, the olecranon, or projecting bone of the elbow, which
patches round the lower end of the arm-bone (this articulating
portion being called trochlea), and forms with it a hinge joint,
for bending and extending the fore-arm. The radius, again, at
the elbow, has a small, neat, round head, which is bound to the
* In the sketch (p. 55) the bone I dius ; in revolving on the lower bone,
with the hand joined to it is the ra- | the ulna, it carries the hand with it

Chap. III.

THE RADIUS AND ULNA.

55

ulna by ligaments, as a spindle is held in the bush ; and it has
a depression with a polished surface for revolving on the con
dyle of the humerus ; at the wrist it
has also a surface adapted for rota
tion : accordingly the radius turns on
its long axis, rolling upon the ulna
both at the elbow and wrist-joint ;
and, as it turns, it carries the hand
with it, because the hand is strictly
attached to its lower head alone. This
rolling is what are termed pronation
and supination.
Such freedom of motion, in an ani
mal with a solid hoof, would be use
less, and a source of weakness ; hence,
in the horse, the radius and ulna are
united, and consolidated in the posi
tion of pronation.
But before taking any particular
instance, let us extend our views.
There is, indeed, something so highly
interesting in the conformation of the
whole skeleton of an animal, and the
adaptation of each part to all the
others, that we must not let our reader
remain ignorant of the facts, and the
more important conclusions drawn
from them. What we have to state
has been the result of the studies of
many comparative anatomists ; but
none has seized upon it, with the pri
vilege of genius, in the masterly man
ner of Cuvier.
Suppose a man, ignorant of anatomy, to pick up a fragment
Df bone in an unexplored country ; he learns nothing, except
that some animal has lived and died there ; but the anatomist,
judging from that portion of bone, can not merely estimate the
size of the extremity of the animal as well as if he saw the print
of its foot, but he can predicate the form of the joints of the
skeleton, the structure of its jaws and teeth, the nature of its

56

ANATOMY OF

Chap. III.

food, and its internal economy. This, to one unacquainted with
the subject, must appear wonderful ; but it is after the follow
ing manner that the anatomist proceeds. Let us suppose that
he has taken up that. portion of bone, in the limb of a quadru
ped, which corresponds to the upper part of the human radius ;
and that he finds that the form of the end of the bone, where
it enters into the joint, does not admit of the free motion, in
various directions, possessed by the paw of the carnivorous
creature. It is obvious, on that view of the structure alone,
that the office of the limb must have been for supporting the
animal, and for progression, not for seizing prey. That leads
him to the fact, that the bones corresponding to those of the
hand and fingers, must have differed from the bones of the paw
of the tiger ; for the motions which that conformation permits,
would be useless without rotation of the wrist : and he con
cludes, therefore, that the hand and finger-bones were each
formed in one mass, like the cannon, pastern, and coffin bones
of the horse's foot.* Now, the motion of the foot of a hoofed
animal being limited to flexion and extension, it implies re
strained motion at the shoulder-joint, and absence of a collar
bone. And thus, from the broken specimen in his hand, the
naturalist acquires a perfect notion of the bones of both extre
mities. But the motion of the extremities implies a particular
construction of the vertebral column which unites them; each
bone of the spine will be of that form which corresponds to the
bounding of the stag, or galloping of the horse ; but will not
have the kind of articulation which admits of the turning or
writhing of the body,- as in the leopard or tiger.
Next he comes to the head : — and he argues that the pointed,
cutting teeth, with which a carnivorous animal is provided to
rend its prey, would be useless, unless there were mobility of
the extremities, like that of the hand, for grasping it, and claws
for securing it. He considers, therefore, that the front teeth
must have been for browsing, and the back teeth for grinding
But the socketing of the teeth requires a peculiar shape of the
jaw-bones, and the muscles which move these bones must also
be peculiar. In short, from the shape and functions of the

* These are solid bones, in which
it is difficult to recognise any resem
blance to the bones of the hand and

fingers ; yet comparative anatomy
proves that they are analogous.

Chap. III. THE RADIUS AND ULNA. 57
mouth, he forms a conception of the figure of the skulL From
that point he may set out anew ; for from the form of the teeth,
he may deduce the nature of the stomach, the length of the in
testines, and all the peculiarities which mark a vegetable feeder.
as contrasted with one of the carnivora.
Thus the whole parts of the animal system are so connected
with one another, that from one single bone or fragment of
bone, be it of the jaw, or of the spine, or of the extremity, a
really accurate conception of the shape, motions, and habits of
the animal may be formed.
It will readily be understood that by the same process of rea
soning, we may ascertain, from a small portion of a skeleton, the
existence of a carnivorous animal, or of a fowl, or of a bat, or of
a lizard, or of a fish. And what a conviction is here brought
home to us of the extent of that plan, which, pervading the
whole range of animated beings whose motions are conducted
by the operation of muscles and bones, yet adapts the members
of every creature to their proper office !
After all, this is but a part of the wonders disclosed through
the knowledge of an object so despised as a fragment of bona
It carries us into another science. The knowledge of the skele
ton not only teaches us the classification of animals now alive,
but affords proofs of the former existence of animated beings
which are no longer found on the surface of the earth. We
are thus led from such premises to an unexpected conclusion.
Not merely do we leam that individual animals, or races of
animals, now extinct, existed at those distant periods : but
even the changes which the globe has undergone, in time before
all existing records, and before the creation of human beings
to inhabit the earth, are opened to our contemplation.
To return to our particular subject,— we readily comprehend
how, if the geologist
should find the head
of a radius, resembling
this sketch, and see a
smooth depression (a),
on its extremity, where
it bears against the hu- Upp» End of a Radius.
merus, and a polished circle (b), where it turns on the cavity of
the ulna he would say, — this animal had a paw— it had a motion

58 COMPARATIVE ANATOMY Chap. IIL
at the wrist, which implies claws. But claws may belong to
two species of animals : to the feline, which possess sharp car
nivorous teeth ; or to animals without either canine or cutting
teeth, the edentata. If he should also find the lower extremity
of the same bone, and observe on its surface spines and grooves,
the marks of tendons, which, instead of running straight to be
inserted into a single bone, radiated to distinct phalanges,— he
would conclude that there must have been moveable claws, that
the bone must have belonged to a carnivorous animal ; and he
would seek for canine teeth of corresponding size.
THE LAST DIVISION OF THE BONES OF THE ABM.
In the human hand, the bones of the wrist (carpus) are eight
in number ; and they are so closely connected that they form a
sort of ball, which moves on the end of the radius. Beyond
these, and towards the fingers, forming the palm of the hand,
are the five metacarpal bones, which diverge at their further ex
tremities, and give support to the bones of the thumb and fingers.
In the thumb, the first phalangeal bone is absent. There are
thus in the hand twenty-seven bones ; from the mechanism of
which result strength, mobility, and elasticity.
Lovers of system (I do not use the term disparagingly) de
light to trace the gradual subtraction of the bones of the hand
Thus, looking to the hand of man, they see the thumb fully
formed. In the monkeys (simiae) they find it exceedingly small ;
in one of them, the spider-monkey (see page 13), it has almost
disappeared, and the four fingers are sufficient, with hardly the
rudiments of a thumb. In some of the tardigrade animals, as
we have seen (in page 20), there are only three metacarpal bones,
with three fingers. In the ox, the cannon-bone consists of two
coalesced metacarpal bones, and the double hoofs are supported
by the corresponding phalangeal bones. In the horse, the can
non-bone is a single metacarpal bone, and the great pastern,
little pastern, and coffin or hoof bone, represent a single finger.*
Indeed, we might go further and instance the wing of the bird.
To me, this appears to be losing the sense, in the love of system ;
there is no regular gradation, but, as I have often to repeat, a
variety, which most curiously adapts the same system of parts
to every necessary purpose.
* See Owen on the Nature of Limbs, p. 32.— (S.)

Chap. IIL

OF THE WRIST AND HAND.

59

In a comparative view of these bones, we are led more par
ticularly to take notice of the foot of the horse. It is univer
sally admitted to be of beautiful design, and calculated for
strength and elasticity, and especially provided against con
cussion. The bones of the fore-leg of the horse become firmer as we
trace them downwards. The two bones corresponding to those
of the fore-arm, are braced together and consolidated ; and the
motion at the elbow-joint is limited to flexion and extension.
The carpus, forming what by a sort of licence is called the knee,
is also newly modelled ; but the metacarpal bones and phalanges
of the fingers are totally changed, and can hardly be recognised.
When we look in front, instead of the four metacarpal bones,
we see one strong bone, the cannon-bone ; and posterior to this,
we find two lesser bones, called splint-bones.
The heads of these lesser or splint-bones enter into the knee-
joint (or properly the wrist-joint) ; at their lower ends they
diminish gradually, and they are held by an elastic ligamentous
attachment to the sides of the cannon-bone. I have some hesi
tation in admitting the correctness of the opinion held by vete
rinary surgeons, on this curi
ous piece of mechanism ; they
imagine that these moveable
splint-bones, by playing up
and down as the foot is alter
nately raised and pressed to
the ground, bestow elasticity
and prevent concussion. The
fact certainly is that by over
action, the parts become in
flamed, and these bones are
eventually united to the
greater metacarpal or cannon-
bone ; and that this, which
is called a splint, is a cause
of lameness. I suspect,
rather, that in the perfect
state of the joint, these
lesser metacarpal or splint-bones act as a spring, to assist in
throwing out the foot, when the knee-joint is bent, and the

Bones of Horse's Fore-leg.

60

ACTION OF THE SPLINT-BONES.

Chap. III.

extensor muscles begin to act. If we admit that it is on the
quickness of extension of the joint that the rate of motion must
principally depend, it will not escape observation, that in the
bent position of the knee, the extensor tendons, from running
near the centre of motion, have very little power; and that, in
fact, they require some additional means to aid the extension of
the leg. Suppose the head of the splint-bone (a) enters into
the composition of the joint, it does not appear that when the
leg is straight and the foot on the ground, the bones of the
carpus, sustained as they are by the cannon-bone, can descend
and press upon it, so as to bring its elasticity into action. But,
in the bent position of the knee, the head of the splint-bone
will come in contact with the carpal bones, behind the centre of
motion of the joint; and it is obvious, therefore, that, when the
foot is elevated and the knee bent, the splint bone will be de
pressed, in opposition to its elastic connecting ligament ; so that,
as soon as the action of the flexor muscles ceases, it will recoil,
and thereby assist the extensor muscles in throwing out the leg
into the straight position. Further, we can readily believe that
when the elasticity of these splint-bones is lost, by ossification
uniting them firmly to
WHAM the cannon-bone, the
want of such a piece
of mechanism, essential
to the quick extension
of the foot, will cause
lameness, and make
the horse apt to come
down. The mechanism of
the bones and tendons
of the extremities is
infinitely varied; and
we hardly ever discern
anything uncommon in
the outward configura
tion of an animal, but
we find something new
and appropriate in the anatomy. The gait, or rather strut, of
the ostrich is peculiar; and it results from a very singular

Hock-joint of the Ostrich.

Chap. III.

OF THE HORSE'S FOOT.

61

mechanism, a spring joint, at the part corresponding with the
hock.* Of the Horse's Foot.— On looking to the sketch (page 59),
and comparing it with that of the bones of the hand (page 55),
we see that in the horse's fore-leg, five bones of the first digital
row are represented by the large pastern-bone; those of the
second by the lesser pastern, or coronet ; and those of the last by
the coffin-bone.
For illustrating the general subject of our treatise, nothing is
better suited than the horse's foot : it is a most perfect piece of
mechanism. And whilst examining it, we are impressed with
the peculiarity of living mechanism, — that it can be preserved
perfect only by the natural exercise of its parts. The horse,
originally a native of extensive plains and steppes, has a struc
ture admirably conformed to these his natural pasture-grounds.
But when brought into subjection, to run on hard roads, the
foot suffers from concussion. His value, so often impaired by
lameness, has made the structure of the horse's foot an object
of great interest ; and I have it from the excellent professor of
veterinary surgery to say, that he has never demonstrated the
anatomy of this part without perceiving something new to
admire. The weight and power of the animal require that both
strength and elasticity should be combined in his foot. Hence
the first thing that attracts attention is the position of the
bones. Had they been placed one directly over the other,

* The figures (p. 60) illustrate the
structure referred to. There is a
gentle rising of the bone at A, hav
ing a smooth lubricated surface, and
a groove in front and behind. In
the straight position, the lateral
ligament B is lodged in the deep
groove at the back of the tubercle ;
but as the leg is bent, the ligament
glides upon the tubercle, it becomes
more and more stretched till it
reaches the highest point of the
convexity, and then it slips, with a
jerk, into tho shallower groove in
front : as the leg is extended, the
ligament is again stretched on pass
ing over the tubercle, and falls back,
with another jerk, into the groove

behind. This play of the ligament
over the tubercle, as over a double-
inelined plane, is accompanied, at
each sliding movement, with a sud
den start of the joint, both in flexion
and extension ; and it is that which
gives rise to the peculiar strut of the
animal. The object of the structure
seems to be to knit or support the
joint, when the bird is resting on
the limb ; and also, in flexion of the
joint, to facilitate that great projec
tion of the superior bone backwards,
as seen in fig. 2, by which additional
power is given to the muscle c, that
propels the bird in its course. Sea
Chapter IV.

62

OF THE HORSE'S FOOT.

Chap. III.

there could not have been elasticity; accordingly, they are
disposed obliquely, and a strong elastic ligament runs behind,
terminating by an attachment to the lowest or coffin-bone. So
essential is the obliquity of the bones to the elasticity of the
limb, that without mounting a horse, it is possible, by observ
ing the direction of the pastern and coffin-bones, to say whether
he goes easily or not.*
The bones of the foot of the camel rest on a soft elastic
cushion. In the horse's foot, there is a structure of a similar
kind, but it acts very differently, and never comes to the
ground ; nor, indeed, does the sole of the horse's foot directly
bear the weight. The horny frog, the triangular projection in
the hollow of the hoof, has placed above it an elastic frog or
cushion ; and inasmuch as these parts receive the weight of the
animal, and by their descent, when the foot is on the ground,
press out the crust or horny hoof, they are essential to the
structure of the foot. The anterior tip of this crust, or the part
of the hoof which last touches the ground as the foot rises, is
very dense and firm, to withstand the pressure and impulse
forward : the lateral parts, however, are elastic, and on their
play depends that resiliency of the foot which prevents con
cussion. The crust is not consolidated with the bone called
coffin-bone; certain elastic laminae, growing from the bone
and dovetailed into the crust, are interposed between them.
When the animal puts his foot to the ground, the weight bears
on the coffin-bone, and from its being attached to the circle of
the crust by these elastic laminae, the lateral parts yield, and
the weight is directed on the margins of the crust; the sole
never touching the ground, unless it has become diseased.
Xenophon, speaking of the Persian horses, says that their
grooms were careful to curry them on a pavement of round
stones, that by beating their feet against a firm and irregular
surface, the texture of the foot might be put into exercise. It
corresponds curiously with this, that our high-bred horses are

* The arched form of the bones,
at the fetlock, with their convexity
backwards, and the distinctness of
the elastic ligament and tendons be
hind the cannon-bone, can be per
ceived by the eye and the hand, and
constitute one of the "points" of a

horse. Such is the correspondence
between the strength of an animal's
bones, tendons, and muscles, that
from these sinews the jockey can
infer the perfection or defect of the
whole.

Chap. III. OF THE HORSE'S FOOT. 63
subject to a disease of the foot, from which the powerful
draught and Flanders horses are exempt. The heavy horse,
with less blood than the race horse, lifts its foot in a circle,
and comes forcibly on the ground : whilst the horse for the
turf, being light, moves with the foot close to the ground ; no
time is lost in lifting it high in the semicircle; the consequence
of which is, that from the foot coming thus gently down, it
wants the full play of the apparatus. Hence it may be under
stood how the lighter horse is subject to contractions of the
foot ; the bones, ligaments, and crust being out of use, the sole
becomes firm as a board, the sides of the crust are permanently
contracted, the parts have no longer their elastic play, and the
foot striking on hard pavement suffers a shock or concussion ;
then comes " a fever of the foot," which is inflammation, and
that may go on to the total destruction of the fine apparatus.
The proof of all this is, that unless the inflammation has
advanced too far, by paring and softening the exterior of the
hoof, so as to restore its elasticity, the veterinary surgeon may
cure this contracted foot.
That a relation should exist between the internal structure of
the foot and its covering, whether it be nail, or cloven hoof, or
crust, we can hardly doubt : and an unexpected proof offers
itself in the horse. Some rare instances are recorded of the
foot of the horse having digital extremities. According to
Suetonius, there was such an animal in the stables of Caesar ;
another was in the possession of Leo X.; and Geoffroy St
Hilaire states that he saw a horse with three toes on each of
the fore-feet, and four on the hind.* In all these, the toes had
nails, not hoofs. By such examples of deviation from the
natural structure, it is made to appear still more distinctly,
that a relation is established between the internal configuration
of the fingers or toes and their coverings, — that when there are
five complete, as in man, they are provided with perfect nails,—
when the number is two, as in the cleft foot of the ruminant,
there are appropriate horny coverings,— and when the bones are
reduced to form one, as in the horse, couagga, zebra, and ass,
there is a hoof or crust.
In ruminants, there is the cannon-bone ; but they have the
* Such a horse was not long since exldbited in Town, and at New
market.

64

THE FOOT OF RUMINANTS.

Chap. IIL

foot split into two parts, and that must add to the spring or
elasticity. I am inclined to think that still another intention
is manifest in this form of the foot : it first prevents it from
sinking into "oft ground, and then permits it to be more easily
withdrawn. We may observe how much more easily the cow
liberates her foot from the yielding margin of a river, than the
horse ; the solid, round, and concave foot of the horse is re
sisted, as it is withdrawn, by a vacuum or suction ; while the
split and conically-shaped hoof of the cow expands in sinking,
and is easily extricated.
In the foot of the chamois, and other species of the deer
tribe, there are two additional toes. These sketches show that

Foot of Antelope.

Foot of Reindeer.

the metacarpal bones, (which in the horse are connected as
splint-bones with the joint called the " knee,") are here brought
down near to the foot, and that each has its two pasterns, and
coffin or ungual bone. The toes are braced by ligaments,
which give great elasticity, as well as power of expansion, to

Chap. III. CONTRAST OF ELEPHANT AND CAMEL. 65
the foot ; and as a division of the flexor tendon runs to each,
the spring must be increased as the animal starts from its
crouching posture.
The twu lateral toes of the hog are short, and do not touch
the ground, yet they must serve to sustain the animal when
the foot sinks. In the rein-deer, (fig. p. 64,) these toes are
strong and thick, and by projecting backwards, expand the
foot horizontally — thus giving the animal a broader base on
which to stand, and, on the principle of the snow-shoe, adapting
it to the snows of Lapland. These changes in the size, number,
and place of the metacarpal and phalangeal bones, the sys
tematic naturalist will call " gradations ; " I see only new proofs
of adaptation, — of the same system of bones being applicable
to every circumstance or condition of animals.
I have explained why the bones of the elephant's leg should
stand so perpendicularly over each other; but there is also a
peculiarity of structure-in the bones of its foot. In the living
animal, we see only a round pliant mass as a foot, resembling
the base of a pillar, or that of the trunk of a stately tree. But
when we examine the bones, we find the carpus, metacarpus,
and phalanges applied to a very different use from what we
have hitherto noticed ; they are not connected with a moveable
radius, and have no individual motion, as in the carnivorous
animal — they serve merely to expand the foot, and give to the
broad base of the column a certain elasticity.
In the sketch (page 40) I have placed the bones of the anterior
extremity of the camel in contrast with those of the elephant. The
camel's foot having no such disproportionate weight to bear as
that of the elephant, lightness of motion is secured by the oblique
direction of its bones, as well as by the position of the bones of
the shoulder, which we have already noticed. But there is
much to admire besides in the foot of the camel; although the
bottom be flat and hard, like the sole of a shoe, yet, between the
tendons and the horny sole, a cushion is interposed, so soft and
elastic that the animal treads with the greatest lightness and
security. The resemblance of the foot of the ostrich to that of the
camel has not escaped naturalists. In the bird, the same soft
ness and pliancy of the sole are provided for by means resem
bling those in the quadruped, but by another adaptation of the

66 CLAWS OF CANINE AND FELINE TRIBES. Chap. III.
frog or elastic pad.* We also have our pads; the best, though
not the only, example of which is in the heel. The elastic struc-

Sole of the Ostrich's Foot.
ture interposed between the bone of the heel and the integu
ment, is neither ligamentous, nor cartilaginous, nor fatty, but a
happy union of all ; elastic fibres are so interwoven with the
softer matter, that the cushion gradually yields to our weight,
and rises as we step.
Attending still to the last bones of the fingers, let me point
out once more how much may be accomplished, in bodying
forth the whole animal, by the study of one of these bones. I
allude to the dissertations of the President Jefferson and of
Baron Cuvier, on the Megalonix. I must previously make some
remarks on the mechanism of the claws in the lion.
Animals of the canine tribe, like those of the feline, are carni
vorous, and both have the last bones of their toes armed with
nails or claws. But their habits and means of obtaining food
differ. The canine combine a keen sense of smelling with the
power of continued speed ; they run down their prey : the feline
owe their superiority to the fineness of their sight, accompanied
by patience, watchfulness, and stealthy movement ; they spring
upon their prey, and never long pursue it ; they attain their
object in a few bounds, and, failing, sulkily resume their watch.
When we look to the claws, we see a correspondence with those
habits. The claws of the dog and wolf are coarse and strong,
and bear the pressure and friction incident to a long chase ; they
are calculated to sustain and protect the foot. But the tiger
* A, the frog or elastic pad in the I of a brush, and forming an adhesive
ostrich's foot, b, processes from the | and elastic sole.
horn or cuticle, disposed like the hair |

Chap. III.

THE LION'S CLAW.

67

leaps on his prey, and fastens his sharp and crooked claws in
the flesh. Now, we must admire the mechanism by which they
are preserved thus curved and sharp at their points. The last
bone, that which supports the claw, is placed laterally to the
next bone, and
is so articulated
with it that an
elastic ligament
(a) draws it back
and to one side,
and thus raises
the sharp extre
mity of the claw
upwards, and
preserves it in
that position.
Whilst, there
fore, the claw is
retracted as into
a sheath between the toes, the nearer extremity of the furthest
bone presses the ground, in the ordinary running of the auimaL
But when he makes his spring and strikes, the claws are uncased
by the action of the flexor tendons ; and in the Bengal tiger,
they are so sharp and strong, and the stroke of his paw is so
powerful, that they have been known to fracture .a man's skull
by a touch, in the act of leaping over him.*

Apparatus of Lion's Claw.

* The pads in the bottom of the
lion's foot are soft cushions, which
add to its elasticity, and must, in
some degree, defend the animal in
alighting from his bound. I could
not comprehend how the powerful
flexor muscles did not unsheath the
claws whenever the lion made his
spring, and only did so when he was
excited to seize and hold the prey ;
to detect the cause, 1 made the dis
section from which the sketch has
been taken. The last bone of the
toe, from being drawn back by the
elastic ligament (a) beyond the cen
tre of motion of the last joint, is
placed in so peculiar a relation to the
penultimate bone, that when the

animal uses his foot in mere progres
sion, the flexor tendon (b), although
inserted into it, only acts in forcing
the nearer end, and the cushion of
the toe, to the ground. But when
the Hon strikes his prey to seize it,
a more general excitement takes
place in the muscles called interossei
and extensors (d, e); the relative
position of the two List bones is
altered; the nearer end of the last
bone is withdrawn from beyond the
centre of motion of the joint, so that
the action of the flexor tendon can
now draw it forward or in a line
with the penultimate bone, — and
then the claw can be unsheathed,
and prepared to hold or to tear.

68

PRESIDENT JEFFERSON AND CUVIES. Chap. III.

' To proceed to the observation of President Jefferson on the
Megalonix. Having found a bone which, by its articulating
surface and general form, he recognised to be one of the finger
bones of an animal of great size, he thought he had discovered
that it must have carried a claw; and from that circumstance,
again, he naturally enough concluded (on the principle — ex
ungue leonem) that it belonged to a carnivorous animal. He
next set about calculating the length of the supposed carnivo
rous claw, and from that to estimating the dimensions of the
animal ; and he satisfied himself that in this bone, a relic of the
ancient world, he had obtained proof of the existence, during
these olden times, of a lion of the height of the largest ox, and
an opponent fit to cope with the mastodon.
But when the same bone came under the scrutiny of Baron
Cuvier, his perfect knowledge of anatomy enabled him to draw
a different conclusion. He first observed that in the middle of

Too-Bones of Megalonix.
the articulating surface there was a spine; in that respect it
differed from the analogous bone in the feline tribe. He found
no provision for the lateral attachment to the next bone ; which
we have just shown is necessary for the retraction of the claw.
Then observing the segment of the circle which the bone de
scribed, he prolonged the line, and showed that the supposed
claw must have been of such great length, that it could never
have been retracted for the protection of its acute and curved
point ; and it would not have permitted the animal to put its
foot to the ground. Pursuing the comparison, he rejected the
idea of the bone belonging to an animal of the feline tribe at
all His attention was directed to another order of animals,
the sloths, which are characterised by having long nails affixed
to their toes. But in the sloth (p. 20) the nails are folded up
in a different fashion from the claws of the lion; they just allow

Chap. III. THE MEGATHERIUM. 69
the animal to walk, slowly and awkwardly, as if we were to fold
our fingers on the palm of the hand, and bear upon our knuckles.
On instituting a more just comparison, therefore, between this
bone of the ancient animal and the corresponding bones of the
sloth, Cuvier has satisfied us that the supposed enormous lion
of the American President was an animal which scratched the
ground, and fed on roots.
One experiences something like relief to find that there never
existed such a huge carnivorous animal as that denominated
megalonix. These ungual bones, or bones of the claws, exhibit a remark
able correspondence with the habits and general forms of ani
mals. Besides what we have seen in the lion or tiger, in the
dog or wolf, in the bear and ant-eater, there is a variety, where
we should least expect it, in those animals that live in woods,
and climb the branches of trees. The squirrel, having his claws
set both ways, runs with equal facility up and down the bole,
and nestles in the angles of the branches of trees. The monkey
leaps, and swings himself from branch to branch, and in spring
ing, parts from his hold by the hinder extremities, before he
reaches another branch with the anterior extremities; he leaps
the intervening space, and catches with singular precision. But
the sloths do not grasp ; their fingers are like hooks, and their
strength is in their arms ; they do not hold, but hang suspended
to the branch ; they never let go with one set of hooks, until
they have caught with the other; and thus they move along
the branch, using both hind and fore feet over head, whilst their
bodies are pendant. Here we see, once more, how the form of
the extremities, the concentration of strength, and the habits
of these animals, correspond not merely to their haunts in the
forest, but to their mode of moving and living among the
branches ; all active, but in different manners.
Of late there have been deposited in our Museum in the
College of Surgeons, the bones of an animal of great size; the
examination of which affords an opportunity of applying the
principles and mode of investigation followed by our great
authority in this part of science. These remains consist of part
of thehead, spine, tail, pelvis; and the bones of one hinder ex
tremity, and the scapula. Estimating the height of the animal
to which they belonged at seven feet, it scarcely conveys an

70 THE MEGATHERIUM. Chap. III.
adequate idea of its dimensions; for the thigh-bone is three
times the diameter of that of the large elephant, in the same
collection, and the pelvis or haunch-bone twice the breadth.
If we form our opinion of its configuration on those principles
to which we have had repeated occasion to refer, and judge of
its strength by the size and prominence of the processes of
these bones, we must conclude that the animal possessed extra
ordinary muscular power; and, directed by the same circum
stances, we may obtain an idea of the manner in which that
muscular power was employed.
On comparing these bones with drawings of the skeleton of
the enormous animal preserved in the Royal Museum of Madrid,
we see at once that they are parts of the remains of the great
fossil quadruped of Paraguay, the Megatherium of Cuvier.
And every observation of the form of the bones of the foot, the
scapula, and the teeth, confirms the opinion which he enter
tained, that it was a vegetable feeder, and that its great
strength was employed in flinging up the soil and digging for
roots. Corresponding to the provisions in the bones of its feet
for sustaining enormous nails or claws, its immense muscular
power seems to have been concentrated in its paws. I have
heard it surmised that the animal may have sat upon its hinder
extremities, and pulled down the branches of trees to itself, to
feed upon them. It is only the great weight of its hind quarters
that can countenance such an idea. We have not the humerus
to declare, by the prominence and situation of its processes,
which class of muscles of the arm were the most powerful; but
as the scapula has the impression of a clavicle upon its acro
mion process, that enables us to form some conception of the
extent of motion enjoyed by the anterior extremity; and from
possessing the greater part of the pelvis, and the enormous
bones of the posterior extremity, we can estimate the height,
breadth, and strength of the whole animal. In short, judging
from the bones that have been procured, we perceive that the
muscular power of the Megatherium did not reside so much in
the body (certainly not in the jaws) as in the extremities, and
especially in the posterior extremities; and that its strength
was given neither for rapidity of motion, nor for offence, but
for digging.
How little was it to be expected that an alliance between a

Chap. III.

BONES IN THE CETACEA.

71

part of anatomy so little valued as that of the bones, and
mineralogy, should give rise to a new science ! — that a depart
ment of natural history formerly pursued idly, vaguely, and
somewhat fancifully, should henceforth, when thus associated
with anatomy, be studied philosophically and inductively ! It
is both interesting and instructive to find relations thus estab
lished between branches of knowledge apparently so remotely
connected. In the true Amphibia, as the phoca (seal) and morse or
walrus (sea-horse),
the feet are con
tracted, and almost
enveloped in skin,
the toes being web
bed and converted
into fins. We have
sketched here the
bones of the paddle
of the walrus ; and
they are remark
ably complete, con
sidering the pecu
liar appearance of
the feet in the liv
ing animal. The
bones are accom
modated to form
an instrument for swimming ; for these animals live in the
water; they come to land only to suckle their young, or to bask
in the sun ; out of the water, they are the most unwieldy and
helpless of all animals which breathe.
In the Cetacea— for example, the whales and dolphins— we
see mammalia unprovided with hind feet. The scapula is large,
the humerus very short, and the bones of the fore-arm and
hand flattened and confined in membranes, which convert the
anterior extremity into a fin. These animals, residing in the
water must rise to the surface to breathe. I need not say that
in the dolphin (small bottle-nose whale) we recognise the bones
of the anterior extremity, only a little further removed from
the forms which we have been hitherto contemplating. Ihe

Part of Skeleton of Walrus.

THE ICHTHYOSAURUS

Chap. III.

seal and morse raise themselves out of the sea,
and bask on the rocks : but the different species
of dolphin continue always in the water ; the
extremity is now a fin or an oar ; and those
who have seen the porpoise, or pelloch, (Scotice,)
in a stormy sea, must acknowledge how complete
is the apparatus through which they enjoy their
element. The last examples I select shall be from relics of
the ancient world.* These figures are taken from
specimens, in the Museum of the College of Sur
geons, of fossil animals of singular structure, be
tween the crocodile and fish, — the ichthyosaurus
Bones of Paddle and plesiosaurus. The skeletons are imbedded
o p in. ^ a caicareous rock ; and are entire, but crushed,
and a good deal disfigured. Here are only the extremities, or
paddles, consisting of a
multitude of bones arti-
' ' ' culated together : but
among these we still
recognise the humerus,
radius, and ulna, and

* The figure to the left is
the anterior extremity of the
Plesiosaurus ; to the right,
that of the Ichthyosaurus.
In these paddles, we- see the
intermediate changes from
the foot of animals to the
Y~> — -J fin of the fish — modifica
tions of the fins of the wal
rus, dolphin, or turtle. We
no longer discern the pha
langes, or attempt to count
the bones ; they becoms ir
regular polygons or trape
zoids — less like phalangeal
bones than the radii of the
fins of a fish. In fishes, the
anterior extremity is recog
nised in the thoracic fin ;
and we may even discover
the prototypes of the sca
pula and the nones of the
arm connected with that
fin.

Chap. III.

AND PLESIOSAURUS.

73

bones of the carpus and fingers. No fault is to be found with
the construction of these instruments ; the ichthyosaurus and
plesiosaurus inhabited seas or estuaries, and the structure of their
paddles is suited to their offices ; no bone is superfluous, mis
placed, or imperfect. It is in the lias deposit that their remains
are found most abundantly. Since they existed, great changes
have been wrought on the land and in the deep, and in the
inhabitants of both ; and the races of animals, the structure
of whose extremities we have hitherto been engaged in ex
amining, were not then in being. When we discover, therefore,
in animals of the old world, that their skeletons* were formed

Plesiosaurus.

Ichthyosaurus.

of the same series of bones which compose those of animals
now alive, we must admit the existence and the progressive
development of a uniform system of bones, extending through
a period of time incalculably remote, even if, instead of days
and years referable to history, each day were as a thousand

years.

I have now given, I hope, a sufficient number of examples of
the changes in the bones of the anterior extremity, which suit
them to every possible variety of use. After attending a little,

* The woodcuts on this page give
some idea of the forms of the skele
tons of the ichthyosaurus and plesio

saurus, as restored by the Rev. Mr
Conybeare.

74

PECULIARITIES IN THE HAND.

Chap. III.

more to the form of the bones of the human hand, I shall take
up another division of my subject.
In this sketch, we have the bones of the paw of the adult
Chimpanzee, from Borneo ; and the remarkable peculiarity that
distinguishes it from the human hand, is the
smallness of the thumb ; it extends no fur
ther than to the root of the fingers. Now,
it is upon the length, strength, free lateral
motion, and perfect mobility of the thumb,
that the superiority of the human hand de
pends. The thumb is called pollex, because
of its strength; and that strength, being
equal to that of all the fingers, is necessary
to the perfection of the hand. Without the
fleshy ball of the thumb, the power of the
fingers would avail nothing; and accord
ingly the large ball formed by the muscles
of the thumb is the distinguishing character
of the human hand, and especially of that
of an expert workman.*
The loss of the thumb amounts almost to
the loss of the hand ; and were it to happen
in both hands, it would reduce a man to a
miserable dependence : or as Adoni-bezek
said of the threescore and ten kings, the
thumbs of whose hands and of whose feet
he had cut off, " they gather their meat under
my table." t
In a French book, intended to teach young people philo
sophy, the pupil asks why the fingers are not of equal length ?
The form of the question reminds us of the difficulty of putting

Bones of
Chimpanzeo's Paw.

* Albinus characterises the thumb
as the lesser hand, the assistant of
the greater — " manus parva, majori
adjutrix." " L'animal superieur est
dans la main ; l'homme dans la
pouce." — L'Apertigny.
"The 'great toe' is more pecu
liarly characteristic of the genus
Homo than even its homotype, the
thumb ; for the Monkey has a kind
of pollex on the hand, but no brute

mammal presents that development
of the hallux, (great toe,) on which
the erect posture and gait of man
mainly depend." — Owen on Limbs,
p. 37.-(S.)
+ "Poltroon — pollice truncato,
from the thumb cut off; it being
once a practice of cowards to cut off
their thumbs, that they might not
be compelled to serve in war." —
Johnsons Dictionary.

Chap. III. GEOLOGY— COMPARATIVE ANATOMY. 75
them naturally — the fault of books of dialogue. However, the
master makes the scholar grasp a ball of ivory, to show him
that the points of the fingers are then equal: it would have
been better had he closed the fingers upon the palm, and then
asked whether or not they corresponded. This difference in the
length of the fingers serves a thousand ends, adapting the form
of the hand and fingers for different purposes, as for holding a
rod, a switch, a sword, a hammer, a pen or pencil, engraving tool,
&c, in all which a secure hold and freedom of motion are ad
mirably combined. But we must defer this subject until we
have shown the application of the muscles to the bones, and
the structure of the ends of the fingers appropriated to bestow
feeling. What says Ray ? — " Some animals have horns, some have
hoofs, some teeth, some talons, some claws, some spurs and
beaks : man hath none of all these, but is weak and feeble, and
sent unarmed into the world — Why, a hand, with reason to use
it, supplies the use of all these."
Before leaving this part of our subject, let us mark the im
portance to the science of Geology of these comparative views
of anatomy. It has been ingeniously and quaintly said, that
the organised remains imbedded in the rocks, are as medals
struck in commemoration of those great revolutions which the
earth's surface has undergone. Every one must have seen that
the crust of the earth is formed in strata or layers : and a very
slight consideration leads also to the belief, that this surface,
besides having successive deposits or formations laid upon it,
has been subject to great convulsions. Each of these layers is,
to a certain degree, distinct in the chemical or physical cha
racter of its inorganic constituents; but it is chiefly identified
by the nature of the animal remains which are buried in it.
Of these strata, some are distinguished by containing the
bones of large animals. Now, it is by attending to the forms
and processes of such bones, that by far the most interesting
conclusions, in the whole range of this new science, are drawn.
A very short account of the successive deposits, forming the
different strata, will serve to illustrate the importance to the
geologist of the anatomy of animals which possess the true
bony skeleton. The -last grand revolutions have resulted in

76 GEOLOGY INDEBTED TO Chap. III.
forming a surface to the earth, in which strata of every variety
of condition have been exposed. And, indeed, we might say
that such exposure, by laying open the riches of the earth to
our reach, as well as furnishing mixed soils for vegetation, has
been the end of these convulsions. At all events, the variety
of objects disclosed on the surface excites the interest of the
inquirer. We will, therefore, recapitulate briefly what has been
discovered by the investigations of scientific and ingenious men
in our time.
Without hazarding conjectures on the elevation or produc
tion of the "primitive rocks," we have at present only to notice
the stratifications superimposed. Of these, the most striking,
and the most difficult to reconcile to theory, are the strata of
coal: but we pass over them as containing no animal remains
in which the knowledge of the anatomy of the vertebrata can
be of use. Knowing that these beds of coal are vegetable pro
ductions, we might expect to find the remains of terrestrial
animals within them : but it is conjectured that the land,
where the trees of that period grew, did not form a suitable
habitation for animals corresponding to those of the present
epoch. Above the beds of coal are the strata, regular and well
ascertained, which are chiefly interesting as indicating the
presence of the coal beneath. The next remarkable stratifica
tions come to be connected with our subject; because they
contain the remains of gigantic animals, with a regular skele
ton, on the system of the vertebrata.*
Some of the great reptiles here alluded to are estimated to
have been eighty feet in length, f But although their skeletons
were formed on the plan, if we may so express it, of quadru-

* Since the above was written, re
mains of 'fishes, the lowest order of
vertebrata, have been found in- the
Silurian beds, below the coal : and
both fishes and reptiles, although
but a few of the latter, in the coal
itself. It remains true that reptiles,
the next above fishes, are most abun
dant in the secondary strata, refer
red to in the text. — (S.)
T The Hegalosaurus, discovered
by Professor Buckland in Oxford
shire, is supposed to have been about
seventy feet in length. The Iguano-
pon, an herbivorous masticating rep

tile, first discovered by Mr Mantel!
in the Wealden beds, in Sussex, is
computed to have been seventy or
eighty feet in its entire length, its
tail being fifty feet, its height nine
feet, its hind foot six feet and a half,
and its body about the same thick
ness as the elephant's. The Hylseo-
saurus, the last discovered of these
huge animals in the same beds, and
supposed by Mr Mantell to have
been a reptile intermediate between
the crocodiles and the lizards, is esti
mated to have been about thirty feet
in length. ' See thu Appendix.

Chap. III. COMPARATIVE ANATOMY. 77
peds, the extremities in many were more like paddles than
feet : and we conclude that they were capable of dragging their
huge bulk on the land, only because their structure proves them
to have been oviparous, and to have breathed the atmosphere.
Some had a conformation of extremities resembling that of
recent oviparous quadrupeds, for enabling them to walk or
crawl on slimy ground; and judging by the habits of these, as
of the crocodile, gavial, alligator, and cayman, certain species
of which existed among them, it is probable that they lived in
still water, with muddy bottom, retreating under the mud, and
projecting their snouts between the aquatic plants to breathe.
And they must have been prolific to an extraordinary degree,
as they had not for enemies the vulture and the ichneumon,
which destroy multitudes of the eggs of these creatures of the
present day. Others had the skin extended on their anterior
extremities,* if not to provide a power of flight, at least to
allow them to drop in safety from elevations to which they
might have crept.
The stratified rocks which contain remains of these reptiles
are composed of lime, clay, or sandstone, and are known under
the denominations of lias, oolite, Wealden or Sussex beds,
Stones-field slate, &c. They are visible in the south of Eng
land, and extend to many parts of Europe. There is every ap
pearance of these deposits having been submerged and deeply
buried in the ocean, from which thick beds of chalk have been
deposited over them. Above the chalk, again, is to be found a
series of stratified rocks, implying a new condition.
The lowest layer of this " tertiary formation " situated above
the chalk, is sometimes called the deposit of the Palaeotherian
period. In this division, animals of a distinct creation, the
species of which cannot be identified with those imbedded in
the strata under the chalk, are found. Then, for the first time,
was there a condition of the earth suited for terrestrial animals,
which retire under the shade of woods and give suck, — the
mammalia. Yet it is remarkable, that the animals of the class
mammalia in this lowest stratification of the tertiary formation,
only approached in resemblance to those which are now alive :
we find the remains of such only as are now extinct.
When the layers forming the tertiary beds are examined in
* The Pfcerodactyles, see page 53.

78

GEOLOGY INDEBTED TO

Chap. III.

succession upwards, they are still distinguishable by their
organic products : and as we approach the most recent beds,
there are fewer remains of extinct quadrupeds, and more nu
merous specimens of such as now inhabit the earth. We find,
in the different strata, the bones of the mammoth, the megathe
rium, the elephant, the tapir, the rhinoceros, the hippopotamus,
the stag, the ox, the horse, and with them the skeletons of their
natural enemies of the feline tribe, and the bear and the hyaena,
the bones of some of which prove them to have been of greater
strength and size than those now alive.*
Over the earth's surface, there are evidences that deluges have
swept with inconceivable power, brushing off the superficial
strata, rolling immense rocks, and depositing the debris, so as
to fill chasms, form new accumulations, and with successive
elevations and subsidences, to change the whole character of
the earth's surface. It was then that the globe assumed its
present confines of land and sea, and that the valleys and the
courses of rivers were determined. Out of these convulsions
and revolutions has come that condition of the world which we
now enjoy; and, as I shall have occasion to repeat, no previous
state of the earth would have been suitable to our constitution t
My admiration of the labours of our geologists partakes of a
feeling of gratitude. But yet there is something in the subject
which leads the devoted student to be over ambitious, and to
frame theories almost too comprehensive. It is not enough to say
that, after all, the changes on the earth's surface are not greater,
in comparison with the size of the earth, than the cracks in the
varnish are to the globe that stands on the table. It has been

* See Sir C Lyell's works, for his
Classification of the Tertiary For
mations. + When doctrines or principles are
laid down dogmatically, there is an
end of reasoning ; "they are as fet
ters on the feet, and like manacles
on the right hand." In this way,
the most famous schools have sunk ;
for if it become a crime to doubt or
investigate, the mind decays. When
God informed us of our duties to
Himself and to each other, the exer
cise of our affections was enjoined
and left free. To have taught man
kind the nature of physical things,

would have made it the duty of the
pious to seek no further knowledge,
and researches into them would have
implied presumption. But by the
constitution of the mind, we learn
that had we been left in a state of
passive obedience, without object or
impulse, the loss of the affections as
well as of reason would have fol
lowed ; our sense of goodness and
benevolence would have become ob
tuse, and the charities of life and the
love and duty we owe to God must
have decayed in us.
Why, then, do geologists quote
Scripture, and form their opinions

Chap. III.

COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.

79

part of our object to show that the features of our earth, and
the phenomena around us, are suited and intended to excite
the faculties and imagination. Accordingly, when the geologist,
extending his survey from the mountains, over extensive plains,
and into ravines and valleys, persuades himself that he can ex
plain when and how they have been formed, he is tempted to
indulge in an enthusiasm which can only be permitted to the
poet. Wonderful improvements have, indeed, been made in this
science by our countrymen who have associated themselves for
that purpose. Buckland, Conybeare, and Mantell, are especially '
distinguished for the discovery of those large Saurian reptiles ;
whilst other geologists have exerted their genius and industry
with equal effect in different departments. But it is in con
templating the labours of Cuvier, that we have the earliest and
best proofs of the importance of comparative anatomy, in giving
extraordinary interest to geology. In him was combined an
attention to minute objects, with a power of generalising, highly
characteristic of genius. Years had been passed in accumulat
ing fossil specimens from the tertiary beds round Paris ; and
out of these heaps of animal remains, which lay confused as if
the fragments of bone had been washed to his feet by a torrent,
he was enabled, by following the principle which the early part
of this chapter has shown to prevail — the co-relation of the
parts of the skeleton — to put together the separate members, to
build up the bodies of extinct animals anew, and to present
them to us with a precision which we could only have expected
from the dissection of the recent animals.

of the structure of the earth on the
Mosaic account of the Creation ? It
does not require deep theological
knowledge to comprehend what was
intended by that sublime announce
ment. It was addressed to a people
ever prone to fall into the idolatries
of surrounding nations. In teaching
the Creation of the world, it affirmed
the existence of One God pre-exist
ing and eternal. It denied the ex
istence of gods and demons sprung
from the earth : it denied that the
Deluge was one of a necessary suc
cession of events : or that the earth
was subject to be successively de

stroyed or restored : or that those
who flourished to the advantage of
mankind in one period, should be re
stored to a similar existence in an
other. It taught the just relations
of the heavenly bodies to the earth,
and that they were not the abodes
of deified mortals — for these were
opinions maintained by the surround
ing nations. Surely, then, men are
inconsistent, when they expect to
find in the Scriptures, which teach
the unalterable religious and moral
duties, the principles of an uncer
tain science.

80 GEOLOGY— COMPARATIVE ANATOMY. Chap. III.
The phenomena visible in the heavens, on the earth, and
within it, are 'of a nature, taken by themselves, to overwhelm
the inquirer's mind. To learn his own value, man must con
sider himself, his physical endowments and capacities, and com
pare them with the elements around. Without a true conception
of his position and relations, the whole range of natural science
is barren of consolation ; the periods of the revolution are too
vast, the objects too distant, to seem to have as their prospec
tive design the condition of the human race.
"God made the country;" and it is perhaps in surveying
plains, and meads, and mountains, remote from man, that the
mind is most elevated to pure and high contemplations. But
cities, temples, and the memorials of past ages, bridges, aque
ducts, statues, pictures, and all the elegancies and comforts of
the town, are equally the work of God, through the propensities
of His creatures, and, we must presume, for the fulfilment of
His design. The condition of the earth has by successive
revolutions been made to conform to these works of man, and
afford the means for them. The metallic veins of the primitive
rocks have been exposed; the carboniferous strata, the lime
and freestone, have been disjointed and elevated ; the riches of
the interior of the earth as well as of its prolific surface, the
circulation of water and the formation of springs — all give proof
that it was designed that the earth should be subdued to man's
use ; that he should not live a selfish, solitary, nomad life, but
in society, where his higher faculties should be called into
activity and his social virtues exercised.

CHAPTER IV.
OF THE MUSCLES OF THE ARM AND HAND— THEIR VITAL
ACTION — THEIR MECHANICAL ADAPTATION TO THE
MOTIONS OF THE HAND AND FINGERS — FORM OE THE
HUMAN HAND.
The Muscle of the body is that fleshy part with which every
one is familiar. It consists of fibres which lie parallel to each
other. This fibrous structure has a living endowment, a power
of contraction and relaxation, termed irritability. A single
muscle is formed of some millions of these fibres combined
together, having the same point of attachment or origin, and
concentrating in a rope or tendon, which is fixed to a moveable
part, called its insertion. Upwards of fifty muscles of the arm
and hand may be demonstrated, which must all consent to the
simplest action. Yet that gives but an imperfect view of the
extent of the relation of parts necessary to every act of volition.
We are the most sensible of this combination in the muscles
when inflammation has seized any great joint of the body; for
then, even in bed, every motion of an extremity gives pain,
owing to a corresponding simultaneous movement in the trunk.
When we stand, we cannot raise or extend the arm without a new
poising of the body, through the action of a hundred muscles.
ON THE ACTION OF THE MUSCLES OF THE ARM.
We shall consider this subject under two heads; first, we
shall give examples of the living property of muscles ; then, of
the mechanical contrivances, in their form and application.
First, In all that regards the living endowment of the muscles,
we see the most bountiful supply of power commensurate to
the object, but never anything in the least degree superabundant.
If the limb is to be moved by bringing a muscle or a set of
muscles into action, the power is not bestowed in that excess
which would enable them to overcome their opponents; but
the property of action is for the time withdrawn from the

82 OF THE MUSCLES or Chap. IV.
opponents ; they become relaxed, and the muscles, which are in
a state of contraction, perform their office with comparative
ease. A stationary condition of the limb results from a bal
anced but regulated action of all the muscles; which con
dition may be called their tone. If, in an experiment, a weight
be attached to the tendon of an extensor muscle, it will draw
out that muscle to a certain degree, until its tone or permanent
state resists the weight : but if the flexor muscle be now ex
cited, this being the natural antagonist of the extensor, the
weight will fall, by the relaxation of the extensor. So that the
motion of a limb implies a change in both classes of muscles,
the one set contracting, the other relaxing; and the will in
fluences both classes. Were it not so regulated, instead of the
natural, easy, and elegant motions of the frame, the attempt at
action would exhibit the body convulsed, or, as the physicians
term it, in clonic spasms. The similitude of the two sawyers,
adopted by Paley, gives but an imperfect idea of the adjustment
of the two classes of muscles. When two men are sawing a log
of wood, they pull alternately ; when the one is pulling, the
other resigns all exertion. But this is not the condition of the
muscles — the relaxing muscle does not give up all effort, so as
to be like a loose rope, but it is controlled in its yielding, with
as fine a sense of adjustment as is the action of the contracting
muscle. Nothing appears more simple than raising the arm, or
pointing with the finger ; yet in that single motion, not only are
innumerable muscles put into activity, and as many thrown out
of action, but both the relaxing and the contracting muscles are
controlled or adjusted with the utmost precision, though in
opposite states, and under one act of volition.
By such considerations, we are prepared to admire the faculty
which shall combine a hundred muscles so as to produce a
change of posture or action of the body. We now perceive that
the power taken from one class of muscles, may be considered as
bestowed on the other ; so that the property of life, which we
call the irritability, or action of a muscle, is upon the whole less
exhausted than would be the case on any other supposition.
As to the second head ; — Our demonstration is of an easier
kind. We have said that nature bestows abundantly, but not
superfluously ; a truth evinced in the arrangement of the muscles.
In all the muscles of the limbs, the fibres run in an oblique

Chap. IV. THE ARM AND HAND. 83
direction,— thus, A being the tendinous origin of a muscle, and
B the tendinous insertion, the fleshy fibres c run obliquely
between these two
tendons. The fibre a
acting thus obliquely ~^~
. loses power, but gains
the property of pull
ing what is attached to its further extremity through a greater
space, while it contracts ; and consequently the velocity is in
creased. This mechanical arrangement is intelligible on the law,
that velocity of motion through space is equal to power and
weight. Here, there is a resignation of power in the muscle to
gain velocity of motion. The same effect is produced by the
manner in which the tendons run over the joints. If they went
in a straight line to the toes or tips of the fingers, the muscles
would act more powerfully ; but the tendons being braced down
in sheaths, they move the toes and fingers with a velocity in
creased in proportion to their loss of power.
Let us see how far this corresponds with other mechanical
contrivances. A certain power of wind, water, or steam being
obtained, the machinery is put in motion ; but it is desired to
give a blow, with a velocity far greater than the motion of the
water or the turning of the wheels. For that purpose a fly
wheel is put on, the spokes of which may be considered as long
levers. The wheel moves very slowly at first ; but being once
in motion, each impulse accelerates it with more and more
facility; at length, it acquires a rapidity, and a centrifugal
force, which nothing but the explosion of gunpowder can equal
in its effects. The engineer, not having calculated the power of
accelerated motion in a heavy wheel, has seen his machinery
split and burst up, and the walls of the house blown out, as by
the bursting of a bombshell. Or, a body at rest receives an
impulse from another, which puts it into motion — it receives a
second blow ; now, this second blow has much greater effect than
the first — for the power of the first was exhausted in changing
the body from a state of rest to that of motion — but being in
motion when it receives the second blow, the whole power is
bestowed on the acceleration of its motion ; and so on, by the
third and fourth blows, until the body moves with, a velocity
equal to that of the body from which the impulse is originally

84

OF THE MUSCLES OF

Chap. IV.

given. The slight blow given to a boy's hoop is sufficient to
keep it running; and just so the fly-wheel of a machine is kept
in rapid action by a succession of impulses, each of which would
hardly put it in motion. If we attempt to stop the wheel, it
will inflict a blow in which a hundred lesser impulses are com
bined and multiplied.
In the machinery of the animal body, there is, in a lesser de
gree, the same interchange of weight with velocity and force.

When a man strikes with a hammer,* the muscle c, near the
shoulder, acts upon the humerus, b, in raising the extended
lever of the arm and hammer, with every possible disadvantage,
seeing that it is inserted near the centre of motion in the shoulder-
joint ; and the same remark applies to the muscle D. But the
loss of power is restored in another form. What the muscle d
loses by the mode of its insertion, is made up in the velocity com
municated to the hammer; for in descending through a large
space, it accumulates velocity, and velocity and weight are equal
to force. The advantage of the rapid descent of a heavy body is,
that a smart blow is given, and an effect produced which the com
bined power of all the muscles, without this mechanical distribu
tion of force, could not accomplish. It is, in truth, similar to
the operation of the fly-wheel, by which the gradual motion of
* A, the scapula, or shoulder- blade and clavicle, and inserted into
blade ; B, the humerus, or arm- the arm-bone ; D, a muscle which
bone ; c, the deltoid muscle of the draws the arm down, as in striking
shoulder, arising from the shoulder- with a sword or hammer.

Chap. IV. THE ARM AND HAND. 85
an engine is accumulated in a point of time, and a blow struck
capable of stamping a piece of gold or silver. In what respect
does the mechanism of the arm differ from the engine with
which the printer throws off his sheet ? Here is a lever with a
heavy ball at the end ; in proportion to its weight it is difficult
to be put in motion; the printer, therefore, takes hold of the
lever near the ball, at A; were he to continue pulling at that
part of the lever, he
would give to the ball
no more velocity than
that of his hand ; but
having put the ball into
motion, he slips his
hand down the lever to
B. Had he applied his
hand near B at first, he
could not have moved
the weight ; but the ball
being now in motion, if
he direct the whole strength of his arm to the lever near the
centre of motion, the velocity of the weight at the further end
will be greatly accelerated. Thus the weight and velocity being
combined, the impulse given to the screw is much more power
ful than if he had continued to pull upon the further end of
the lever at A
If we now turn back to the diagram (page 84), we shall
understand how much is gained by the muscle c being inserted
near the centre of motion, although, in one sense, at a mechanical
disadvantage. First, that mode of insertion is in correspondence
with the principle already adverted to, that the living endow
ment of muscle is never spared, but is bestowed liberally in
proportion to the necessities of the part. But it will also be
perceived, that the arm being put in motion by the force
operating near the centre of motion, the velocity will be rapidly
increased by each successive impulse from the muscle ; and, of
course, the motion at the further extremity will be more rapid
than at the insertion of the muscle. Again, in the action of
pulling down the arm, as in giving a back stroke with the
sword, we perceive that when the hammer descends, the rapidity
is increased by the mere effect of gravity; but when the action

86 OF THE MUSCLES OF Chap. IV.
of the muscle is conjoined, the two forces, progressively increas
ing, greatly augment the velocity of the descent.
The same interchange of power for velocity, which takes
place in the arm, adapts a man's hand and fingers to a thousand
arts, requiring quick or lively motions. The fingers of a lady
playing on the pianoforte, or of the compositor with his types,
are instances of the advantage gained by this sacrifice of force
for velocity of movement. The spring of the foot and toe is
bestowed in the same manner, and gives elasticity and rapidity
in running, dancing, and leaping.
The motions of the fingers do not result merely from the
action of the large muscles which lie on the fore-arm : these are
for the more powerful efforts; in the palm of the hand, and
between the metacarpal bones, are numerous small muscles,
(lumbricales and interossei,) which perform the finer movements,
— expanding the fingers, and moving them in every direction
with quickness and delicacy. These small muscles, attached to
the extremities of the bones of the fingers where they form the
first joint, being inserted near the centre of motion, move the
ends of the fingers with great velocity. They are the organs
which give the hand the power of spinning, weaving, engraving,
&c. ; and as they produce the quick motions of the musician's
fingers, they are called by anatomists fidicinales.
But there is another use which the small muscles in the hand
serve. In grasping with the hand, the strength with which it
closes, when all the muscles are combined in action, must be
very great ; the amount of power is exhibited when we see a
sailor hanging by a rope, and raising his whole body with one
arm. What must be the pressure upon the hand ? If the palms,
and inside of the fingers, and their tips, were not guarded by
cushions beneath the skin, it would be too much for the texture
even of bones and tendons, and certainly for the blood-vessels
and nerves, to sustain. The elastic pad in the foot of the horse,
camel, or ostrich, is not a whit more appropriate than the fine
elastic texture beneath the skin of the hand. To add to the
efficacy of this yielding but strong padding, a muscle is provided,
which, arising in the centre, runs across half the palm to the
cushion, on the inner edge, opposed to the ball of the thumb : it
acts powerfully as we grasp; and it is this muscle which, by

Chap. IV.

THE ARM AND HAND.

87

raising the edge of the palm, hollows it, and adapts it to lave
water, forming the cup of Diogenes.
Whilst the cushions on the ends of the fingers protect them
in the powerful actions of the hand, we shall presently see
that they are useful also in subservience to the organ of touch ;
that they provide a power of receiving impressions, without
which the utmost delicacy of the nerves would be unavailing.
The projection of the heel in the human foot, and the pro
minence of the knee-pan, are provisions for increasing, by
mechanical adjustment, the power of the muscles. By such
means the point of insertion of the muscle is removed to a
distance from the centre of motion in the joint, and the lever
power thus obtained is added to the force of the muscle. The
principle is maintained, and the demonstration more easy, in
the joints of some animals, as in the hock of the horse ; and we
have a beautiful instance of it in the foot of the ostrich. Where
the flexor tendons pass behind the several joints of the foot, the
heads of the bones are
enlarged ; which throws / fj. J
the tendons off from the
centre of motion. But
there is an additional
provision still. A loose
pendulous body, A,
hangs between the ten
dons and bone, at each
of these joints; and it
plays upon the bones in
such a manner, that at
the utmost degree of
extension of the foot,
when the bird requires
to use all its power of
muscular exertion to
bend it again, this body
is introduced to throw
the tendons further
backwards, and to add remarkably to the lever power.
body, A, is shaped like a wedge, with grooved surfaces to cor-

Ostrich b Foot.

This

88 MECHANICAL PROPERTIES Chap. IV
respond with the bone before, and the tendon behind : and it
is suspended by an appropriate muscle, which raises it like a
bolt, after it has served the office of throwing off the tendons
from the centre of motion. In addition, the sketch shows, that
where these tendons pass behind the joints, they are thickened
and hardened into cartilages, so that the bolt operates more
effectually in directing them backwards, and producing the pro
jection, equivalent to that of the heel or the hock* These are
the means by which "she lifteth up herself on high, and
scorneth the horse and his rider."
After the many illustrations which we have adduced from
mechanics, the muscular power itself must be a subject of sur
prise and admiration. Gravity, the expansion and condensation
of steam, the evolution of gases, the spring or elasticity of mate
rial, or all these combined, could not have answered the various
offices performed by this one property of life — muscular con
tractility. The irritable and contractile fibre, of which muscle
is composed, when chemically considered, does not differ from
the fibrine of the blood; but from being endowed with this
property of contraction, and adapted with "mechanical in
genuity," it fulfils a thousand distinct purposes, in volition,
breathing, speaking, digestion, circulation ; and it is modified in
all these functions according to the wants and condition of
every class of animals.
From what the reader already understands of the conformity
subsisting among all parts of an animal body, he will readily
comprehend that a perfect relation must be established between
the bones and the muscles : that as the bones of different
animals exhibit a variety in their size, relative position, and
articulations, so must there be an adaptation of the muscles.
Accordingly, we sometimes find the muscles separated into
smaller, and sometimes consolidated into more powerful masses.
To the anatomical student, the mode of demonstrating the
muscles of the human hand and arm becomes the test of his
master's perfection as a teacher. When they are taken succes
sively, just as they present' themselves in the arm, nothing can
be more uninteresting, tedious, and difficult to attend to, than
such a demonstration; but when they are taught with lucid
* I am indebted to Mr Shaw for theau interesting demonstrations of the
ostrich's foot.

Chap. IV OF THE MUSCLES. 89
arrangement, according to the motions performed by the distinct
groups of muscles, it is positively agreeable to find how much
interest may be communicated to the subject.
It would be foreign to the object of this work to introduce
such demonstrations here. Yet it is remarkable how closely
the muscles of the arm and hand resemble the muscles of the
fore extremity of certain animals — the lion, for example. The
flexors, extensors, pronators, and supinators, in the brute, are
exactly in the same relative place which the student of ana
tomy is taught to observe with so much interest in the human
arm. This example shows how accurately the arrangement of
the muscles conforms to the structure of the bones ; and that
in proportion as the bones of the extremity of any animal re
semble, in shape and power of motion, those of the human
arm, so will the muscles— another proof of the extent of the
system of analogies established in the animal frame.
There is one circumstance more which should not be omitted
in the comparative anatomy of these muscles, as it exhibits
another instance of conformity in the structure of parts, to the
offices they have to perform. We have just stated that the
power of contraction is a vital property. The continued action
of a muscle, therefore, exhausts its vitality. Now, to support
that action, when inordinate, there must be a more than usual
provision for the supply of the living power to the muscle —
there must be a means of increasing or maintaining the circula
tion of the blood within it, that being the source of all vital
power. In the loris tardigradus * it has been observed that the axil
lary and femoral arteries, the great arteries of the anterior and
posterior extremities, present this peculiarity — the main vessel
is subdivided into a number of equal-sized and tortuous cylin
ders, which, previous to the distribution of the proper branches
to the muscles, again unite to form a single trunk, t As this
subdivision of the trunk of the vessel produces a retardation of
the blood, it has been argued that it is adapted to the slow
motion of the animal. On the contrary, I believe it to be a
provision for long-continued action. The animals which pos
sess this peculiarity in their circulation are not more remark-
* See p. 21.
f There is some doubt as to the reunion of the vessels.

90 CIRCULATION OF THE BLOOD Chap. IV.
able for the slowness of their progression than for the tenacity
of their hold; their extremities are long and their muscles
powerful, either for sustaining the animal by grasping the
branches of trees, or for digging. But surely the strength of
the muscles cannot be maintained by retarding the circulation
of the blood : it is a principle universally admitted, that the
expenditure of arterial blood always bears a proportion to the
vital force employed.
Buffon tried to make a dog amphibious, by immersing the
puppy, before it had breathed, in tepid water. One of our own
physiologists thought it possible, by putting Hgatures upon the
arteries which go to the limbs, and forcing the blood to take a
circuitous course, and by numerous channels, to the muscles, to
make a tardigrade animal, like the loris, out of a vivacious
spaniel. We need hardly say that these experiments failed.
They were undertaken in a misconception of the nature of the
living properties of muscles, which are more finely adjusted
than anything in the mere mechanism of the body. Every
muscle has its prescribed mode of action, from the unwearied
irritability causing the incessant motion of the heart, to the
simple effort of the muscle which guides the pen. Some
muscles are ever in action, with but short intervals of rest ;
others act in regular succession : some are under the will,
others withdrawn from it : some act quickly, as the heart ;
others slowly, as the stomach : but these are original endow
ments, and do not result from the force or languor of the cir
culation of the part.
To return to the subdivided and tortuous artery— were the
blood-vessels of the living body like rigid tubes, and the laws
of the circulation the same as those of hydraulics, such a form of
the artery would certainly be the means of retarding the course
of the blood. But it is impossible to believe that the circula
tion of the blood can be performed according to the same laws
which govern the flow of water in dead tubes. The artery is
dilatable ; it contracts with a vital force ; and both the dilata-
bility and the contractility of arteries are subject to the in
fluence of the living principle. When, therefore, the artery of
a limb is divided into four or five vessels, which are tortuous;
as in the sloth, the result will be a greater capacity of dilata
tion, and a greater power of contraction ; and these, being vital

Chap. TV. THROUGH THE MUSCLES. 91
operations, will be subject to be influenced and adjusted accord
ing to the necessity for the increase or diminution of the cir
culation. If such a peculiarity in the form of the vessels in the
extremities of these animals retard the blood, it can only be
during repose; for, on excitement, so far from retarding, it
must bestow a remarkable power of acceleration. I conclude,
therefore, that this variety of distribution in the arteries is a
provision for an occasional increase of activity in the muscles
of the limb, and for forcing the blood into contact with the
fibres, notwithstanding their long-continued action and rigidity.
We have seen, in the preceding chapter, that the same animal
which at one time moves out its paw as slowly as the hand of a
watch, at another, when seizing its prey, acts with extreme
rapidity : consequently, we cannot admit'the inference that the
tortuous and subdivided artery is a provision for languid move
ments. OF THE RIGHT AND LEFT HAND.
In speaking of the arteries which go to the hand, it may be
expected that we should touch on a subject, formerly a good deal
discussed, whether the properties of the right hand, compared
with the left, depend on the course of the arteries : for it has
been affirmed that the superiority of the right arm is owing to
the trunk of the artery which supplies it, passing off from the
heart more directly, so as to admit of the blood being propelled
more forcibly into the small vessels of that arm, than the left.
This, however, is assigning a cause altogether unequal to the
effect, and presenting too confined a view of the subject : it par
takes of the common error of seeking in the mechanism, the
explanation of phenomena which have a deeper origin.
Among all nations, there is a universal consent to give the
preference to the right hand over the left. It cannot, therefore,
be a conventional agreement : it must have a natural source.
For the conveniences of life, and to make us prompt and dex
terous, it is pretty evident that there ought to be no hesitation
which hand should be used, or which foot should be put for
ward ; nor is there, in fact, any such indecision. Is this readi
ness taught, or is it given to us by nature?
Sir Thomas Browne says, that if the right side were originally

92 SUPERIORITY OF THE Chap. IV.
the most powerful in man, we might expect to find it the same
in other animals. He affirms that squirrels, monkeys, and par
rots feed themselves with the left leg rather than with the
right. But the parrot may be said to use the strongest foot
where most strength is required ; that is in grasping the perch
and standing, not in feeding itself.
That the preference for the right hand is not the result of
education, we may learn from those who by constitution have a
superiority in the left. They find a difficulty in accommodating
themselves to the modes of society : and although not only the
precepts of parents, but every thing they see and handle, con
duce to make them choose the right hand, yet will they rather
use the left.
It must be observed, at the same time, that there is a distinc
tion in the whole right side of the body, as well as in the arm :
and that the left side is not only the weaker, in regard to mus
cular strength, but in its vital or constitutional properties. The
development of the organs of motion is greatest upon the right
side ; as may at any time be ascertained by measurement, or
the testimony of the tailor or shoemaker. Certainly, the supe
riority may be said to result from the more frequent exertion of
this side ; but the peculiarity extends to the constitution also ;
and disease attacks the left extremities more frequently than
the right. We see that opera dancers execute their more diffi
cult feats on the right foot : but their preparatory exercises
better evince the natural weakness of the left limb ; in order to
avoid awkwardness in the public exhibitions, they are obliged
to give double practice to the left leg ; and if they neglect to do
so, an ungraceful preference to the right side will be remarked.
In walking behind a person, we seldom see an equalised motion
of the body ; the tread is not so firm upon the left foot, the toe
is not so much turned out, and a greater push is made with the
right. From the peculiar form of woman, and from the elasticity
of her step, resulting from the motion of the ankle rather than
of the haunches, the defect of the left foot, when it exists, is
more apparent in her gait. No boy hops upon his left foot,
unless he be left-handed. The horseman puts the left foot in
the stirrup and springs from the right. We think, "therefore,
we may conclude, that the adaptation of the form of everything
in the conveniences of life, to the right hand— as for example,

Chap. IV.

RIGHT HAND OVER THE LEFT.

93

the direction of the worm of the screw, or of the cutting end of
the auger, or the shape of other tools or instruments — is not
arbitrary, but has relation to a natural endowment of the body.
He who is left-handed is most sensible to the advantages of this
arrangements, whether in opening the parlour-door, or a pen
knife. On the whole, the preference of the right hand is not
the effect of habit, but is a natural provision, and is bestowed
for a very obvious purpose : and the property does not depend
on the peculiar distribution of the arteries of the arm — the pre
ference is given to the right foot, as well as to the right hand.*

* There is a pleasant and ingeni
ous epistle by Dr Franklin, in which
the left hand is personated, and made
to contend for equal rights. She
complains of being suffered to grow
up without instruction — that she has
had no master to teach her writing,
drawing, and suitable accomplish

ments : that, on the contrary, she is
left totally without exercise, but for
the sympathy of her sister. To the
countrymen of Dr Franklin the les
son of the subordination of the organs
of the animal frame is not altogether
unsuited.

CHAPTER V.
THE SUBSTITUTION OF OTHER ORGANS FOR THE HAND.
After having examined how one instrument, the hand, is modi
fied and adapted to a variety of uses in different animals, it
only remains, for elucidating the subject further, to contrast the
hand with its imperfect substitutes in other creatures. From
the insect tribe, I might have derived some of the most curious
examples of instruments suited for purposes similar to those of
the hand and fingers of man ; but I have intentionally confined
the inquiry to the higher classes of animals.
The habits of certain fishes require that they should cling
firmly to the rocks, or to whatever is presented to them as a
means of support. Their locomotive powers are perfect ; but
how do they become stationary in the tide or stream ? For
example, I have often thought it wonderful that the salmon or
trout should keep its place, night and day, in the rapid current.
[The poising and motion of fishes in the water has interested
some of our greatest philosophers, as Galileo and BorellL It is
estimated that fishes make their way through a medium which
resists nine hundred times more than the atmosphere : but then,
as it offers a certain resistance to their progress, it resists also
the motion of their tail and fins by which they have their power
of progression. The breadth of the tail of fishes, compared
with that of their fins, and its muscularity and power, declare
what is affirmed to us upon authority — that the tail is the great
instrument of their progression ; and we can see that when the
trout darts away, the force of his motion lays down the fins
close upon his body. But the fins direct him, as out-riggers,
and the pectoral fins especially, by raising or depressing the
head, give direction to the whole body under the force of the
tail. The lateral fins, and particularly the pectoral fins, also
sustain him in the right position in the water : without the co-

Chap. V. SUBSTITUTES FOR THE HAND. 95
operation of these with the tail, the fish would move like a boat
sculled by one oar at the stern. As the digestion of fishes, as
well as that of other animals, is attended with the extrication
of air, and as the intestines are below the centre, the belly would
be turned up but for the action of these lateral fins ; as we see
takes place in a dead fish. The tail and fins are the instruments
of motion ; but the incessant acion of the muscles which move
these is a just matter of admiration. If a fish move with his
head down the stream, he must move more rapidly than the
water, or the water gets under the operculum of the gills, and
chokes him. He lies, therefore, continually with his head to
the stream. We may see a trout lying for hours stationary,
whilst the stream is running past him ; and they seem to remain
so for days and nights. In salmon-fishing, the fly is played
upon the broken water, in the midst of the torrent ; and there
the fish shows himself rising from a part of the river where men
could not preserve their footing, though assisted by poles, or by
locking their arms together. When the salmon leaps, he makes
extraordinary exertions. Just under the cataract, and against
the stream, he will rush for some yards, and rise out of the
spray six or eight feet ; and amidst the noise of the water, they
may be heard striking against the rock with a sound like the
clapping of the hands. If they find a temporary lodgment on
the shelving rock, they lie quivering and preparing for another
somerset, until they reach the top of the cataract. This exhibits
not only the power of their muscles, assisted by the elasticity
of their bones, but the force of instinct by which they are led
to seek the shallow streams for depositing their eggs. The por
poise will sail round and round a ship which is sailing at four
teen miles an hour : a thing almost as surprising as the fly
circling round the horse's ear for a whole stage. To all this
may be added, that the solid which mathematicians have disco
vered, by refined application of the calculus, and have termed
"the solid of least resistance," because it is the conformation
which is less than any other affected by the resistance of any
medium, resembles a fish in its form .* The sea varies in tem
perature and pressure at different depths, and no doubt the tex
ture of the fish, and especially of its integument, must conform
* According to Lacepede, the speed of a salmon is about twenty-six
feet in a second.

96 SUBSTITUTES FOK THE HAND. Chap. V.
to this variety. The swimming-bladder is the means of adjust
ment by which the fish lives at its native depths without waste
of animal exertion : such is the power of expansion of the air-
bladder when relieved from the pressure, that, when a fish is
brought up from the greatest depth, it inverts and thrusts out
the viscera from the mouth. We do not see, however, that
naturalists have adverted to the place of this swimming-bladder.
It lies close to the spine, and appears to counterbalance, in some
measure at least, the air in the intestines by being thus placed
above them. In the Cetacea, as the whale, their buoyancy pro
ceeds from the quantity of oil under the skin, especially of their
head, and which it has been observed is bestowed in order to
insure their readily coming to the surface to breathe when their
natural powers are weakened. For the same reason, that they
may raise their heads to the surface, their tails are horizontal.
In the jelly-fish, those soft animals which float in sheltered
estuaries (the physsophora), there is an air-vessel which they can
fill and empty, by which means they rise or sink at pleasure.
Others (the villela) raise a sail. Some of this class propel them
selves by taking in water, and suddenly rejecting it.]*
In the sea, some fishes are provided with special means of
clinging to the rocks. The lump-fish (cyclopterus lumpus) fas
tens itself by an apparatus on the lower part of its body;
while the sucking-fish (remora) has a similar provision on its
back, by which it attaches itself to the shark, or to whatever is
afloat, as the bottoms of ships : and it was from the ancients
believing that this fish was able to stop a ship under sail, that
Pliny called it remora. We must admire the means by which
these fishes can retain their proper position in the water, with
out having to cling either by their fins or their teeth, or being
prevented from catching their food. The apparatus resembles
a boy's sucker : the organ is pressed against the surface to
which the creature is about to fix itself, the centre is then
drawn upon by muscles, in the same manner as the sucker is
drawn by the cord, and thus a vacuum is made. Dr Shaw tells
us, that on throwing a lump-fish into a pail of water, it fixed
itself so firmly to the bottom, that when he took hold of it by
* Author's note, in edition of j illustrative notes by Lord Brougham
•'Paley's Natural Theology, with | and Sir Charles Bell."

CnAP, V.

SUBSTITUTES FOR THE HAND.

97

the tail, he could lift the pail off the ground, although it con
tained some gallons of water.*
In the cuttle-fish we see a modification of the same kind of
apparatus : the suckers are ranged in rows along the lower part
of their feelers or arms, so as to become instruments of prehen
sion and of locomotion. They can be turned by the animal in
any direction, either to fix itself, or to drag itself from place to
place. In the Indian seas these creatures become truly formi
dable, both from the length of their arms, which extend to eight
or nine feet, and from the tenacity with which they cling, t
There is another fish, which, from its name, we should expect
to be able to perform strange antics ; it is called the " harlequin
angler." X The appearance of the fish is grotesque and singular ;

Lopliius Histrio.

* For a description, by Macgilli-
vray, of a mode of capturing turtles,
by attaching a cord to sucking-fishes
trained for the sport, see "Account
of the Surveying Voyage of the
Rattlesnake." t In the Mollusca and Zoophytes,
we find many instances of animals
holding on against the force of tide
or current. The Actiniae fix them
selves to rocks and shells ; and some,
as the sea-carnation, hang suspended
from the lower surface of projecting
rocks, resembling the calyx of a
flower. By the elongation of their
tentaeula, they expand and blow
themselves out ; the parts like petals

being prehensile instruments, by
which the animal draws whatever
food floats near it, into its stomach.
The byssus of the mussel is a set of
filaments secreted from a gland near
the joint ; being fixed to the rock at
one end, it retains the shell at an
chor, preventing it from drifting or
rolling with the tide. In the oyster,
the shell is directly cemented to the
rock. J Lophius Histrio, — the first word.
from the Greek, denotes the feeler
which flies at the head like a pei-
nant ; the second, from the Latin,
signifies an actor.

98

SUBSTITUTES FOR THE HAND.

Chap. V.

the pectoral fins resemble short arms, and are palmated at their
tips* M. Renau, in his History of Fishes, affirms that he knew
an individual of this species ; and the expression is not so in
correct; as he saw it for three days living out of water, walking
about the house in the manner of a dog. The circumstance of
the lophius walking out of water has some interest, from show
ing that relations may subsist between organs apparently the
least connected with each other. In this genus, the operculum,
which covers the gills, does not open widely, as in most fishes,
to let the respired water pass off freely behind ; the water is
discharged by a small aperture, capable, in Mr Owen's opinion,
of being closed by a sphincter muscle ; when, the cavities where
the branchiae lie being large, a considerable quantity of water
may be confined within them. Thus, not only are the fins of
the fish converted into feet, but the gill-covers into pouches,
capable of containing water sufficient for respiration when the
sea has retired. Then the lophius, lying in the mud or shallow
pools, and watching its prey, angles for it in a very curious
manner. Pliuy relates that it will bury its body, and leaving
the glittering filaments which float from its head exposed to
view, like worms, will entice the smaller fishes.
But, besides the "harlequin angler," other fishes perambulate
the dry land; and even ascend trees (without being carried
there by floods). Thus a particular fish (perca scandens) can
clamber a tree by means of the spines of its gill-covers, and
spinous rays of its fins ; whence Dr Shaw called it the climb
ing-fish, f
All animals protected by feathers, or shells, or scales, are
endowed with an exquisite sense of touch in the mouth, or in
appendages belonging to it. Fishes have hanging from their
lips processes called cirri, which are equivalent to the feelers or
tentacula of insects and Crustacea. The fishing lines of the
lophius are examples of these processes.
It is surprising how varied are the means by which -fishes
obtain their food. The bandouliSre a bee (clielmon rostratus, of

* These fins have two bones like
the radius and ulna ; but Cuvier
says that they are more strictly
bones of the carpus.
t The spines of the Echinus, or Sea
Urchin, are moveable; they assist

in progression. They are directed
against an advancing enemy! Al
though these spines may be effectual -
for their purposes, they are to be
regarded as the lowest, or least per
fect substitutes for extremities.

Chap. V. SUBSTITUTES FOR THE HAND.

99

the genus Chwtodon rostratus), squirts water at flies as they pass,
brings them down, and then feeds upon them. The scicena
jaculatrix, according to Pallas, possesses a similar skill; and the
spams insidiator surprises aquatic insects by the sudden pro
jection of its snout. As to the elongated rays of the dorsal
and anal fins in the cordonnier of Martinique (zeus ciliaris, le
blepharis, Cuv.), some naturalists affirm that they are employed
to coil round the stems of plants, in order to sustain the fish.
The several offices attributed to these processes in fishes, almost
implies that they must possess sensibility, if not muscular
power. Some years ago I discovered, by anatomical investigation
and experiment, that, in man, the sensibility of the head and
its various appendages, as well as the power of closing the jaws
and masticating, depended upon one nerve alone of the ten
which arise from the brain, and are distributed within and
around the head, viz., the Fifth.* By the aid of comparative
anatomy, I found also that a corresponding nerve served similar
purposes in the lower animals. In those covered with feathers
or scales, or protected by shell, this nerve becomes almost the
sole organ of sensation. It gives sensibility to the cirri of
fishes, and to the palpi of the Crustacea and the antennae of
insects. It is the same nerve which supplies the tongue, and is
the organ of its exquisite sensibility to touch, as well as of
taste. In some animals, especially reptiles, the tongue, by its
length and mobility, becomes a substitute for these external
appendages ; and in others, besides serving for touch and for
taste, it is an organ of prehension. With it the ox gathers in
the herbage ; and in the giraffe it is curious to observe that, as
the whole frame of the animal is calculated to elevate the head
to a great height, so the tongue is capable of projecting beyond
the mouth to an extraordinary extent, and of wrapping round
and pulling down the extreme branches of trees.
[What could have tempted Buffon to express his pity for the
woodpecker, as abject and degraded ] and why should this bird
be described as leading an insipid life, because continually em
ployed in boring and hammering the old stump of a tree ? A
late naturalist describes the woodpecker as enjoying the sweet
* See the Account of the Author's Discoveries in the Nervous Systeni,
at the commencement of the volume. — (S.)

100

SUBSTITUTES FOR THE HAND.

Chap. V.

hours of the morning, on the highest branch of the tallest tree,
fluttering and playing with his mate and companions. No
doubt his diligence, perseverance, and energy in plying his beak
are very extraordinary. But, besides the wedge-like strength
of the beak, and the power of the neck to strike with it, there is
something remarkable in its sensibility. That nerve, the Fifth
pair, on which we have shown that all the sensibility of the
head depends, transmits along the inside of the mandibles a
large branch, which, as it approaches the extremity, perforates
the bone by innumerable small
canals, so as to reach the horny
covering. The beak, thus pos
sessed of sensibility, can be used
to grope in the crevices of the
wood, and under the bark. The
woodpecker is enabled by this
means, to direct the tongue, which
moves with extraordinary celerity,
and with a point like a barbed
arrow. We have represented the
dissection of the head of this bird
more accurately in its 'anatomy
than is to be found in books. We
offer it because it exhibits a very
curious piece of mechanism, ad
justed to the tongue, to enable the
animal to thrust it out far, and with
unusual rapidity, a, is the barbed
tongue ; b, two slender elastic liga
mentous cartilages, of very peculiar
structure and use ; on one extre
mity they are attached to the bone
which supports the upper mand
ible ; from this we trace them over
the skull down upon the sides of
the neck ; and, with a large sweep,
turning under the lower mand
ible, and so continued into the tongue, and not terminating
until they reach the horny point, c c c, a long muscle which
follows these ligamentous cartilages upon their concave side,

Woodpecker's Tongue.

Chap. V. SUBSTITUTES FOR THE HAND. 101
arising from the bone of the lower mandible, and so sweeping
round with the cartilages and over the skull, to have another
fixed point at the upper mandible : these protrude the tongue.
Two muscles are seen to arise from the sides of the larynx,
which are the opponents of the last, and retract the tongue.
Leaving the other parts of the anatomy, we beg the reader's
attention to the action of the muscle c c c, which presents one
of those curious instances observed in comparative anatomy, of
a mechanism adapted to a particular purpose ; the tongue is
not only thrust out far by this apparatus, but it is shot with
great rapidity, in correspondence with its barbed point; this
effect is produced by the two extremities of the muscle being
fixed points, and the fibres of the muscle itself running on the
concave side of the cartilaginous bow, so as to form a smaller
circle. We require no mathematical demonstration to prove,
that the tongue must be thrust out to a greater distance than
the measure of contraction of the muscle. Let us tie the line
of the fishing-rod to the last ring of its slender top, and pull
upon it at the last ring of the butt : the motion of the top will
be very extensive,- even when only an inch of the line is drawn
through the rings. This is a pretty accurate representation of
what takes place by the contraction of this protruding muscle.
We have noticed that the upper end of this arch is fixed, the
whole motion must therefore be given to the loose extremity
in the tongue ; and we cannot but observe, that whilst this
peculiar arch and muscular ring are adapted for the rapid pro
trusion of the tongue, its retraction is produced by a common
muscle, that is, a muscle running in a straight course. Another
curious part of this apparatus is, that a very large gland, which
pours out a glutinous matter, is embraced and compressed by
the action of the circular muscle. This viscid secretion bedew
ing the tongue furnishes an additional means for the. bird to
pick up insects, such as ants, without the necessity of sticking
each with its arrow. Nothing can be more mechanical, or more
happily adapted to its purpose, than the whole of this structure,
and consequently nothing better suited to strengthen our argu
ment. Indeed, it is not inferior to the means employed for
giving rapidity of motion to the membrana mciiians of the eye
of the bird.
With the instrument, as we have before hinted, we should ex-

102

SUBSTITUTES FOR THE HAND.

Chap. V.

pect a particular instinctive action, and a corresponding muscu
lar power. As an animal with horns has a powerful neck, so
has the neck of the heron,
introduced here, an extra
ordinary muscular power,
without which, indeed, the
long and sharp bill would
be of little use. When the
dog approaches the wound
ed heron, the bird throws
itself upon its back, and,
retracting its long neck,
suddenly darts it out with
a force which strikes the bill
deep into the dog. If you
hold your hat towards the bird, the bill will be struck quite
through it. In contending with the hawk, when the latter
is spitted, it is not by the rapid descent of the hawk, but by
the force with which the heron drives its bill. The strength
of the bill of the parrot, and that of all birds which break the
stones of fruit or nuts, or hard seeds, is in another direction :
the bill is hooked, yet is differently formed from that of the
carnivorous bird. The intention is, in the first place, that
the point shall play vertically, which, with the strengthen
ing by successive layers of the horny material of the bill

Heron's Bill

near the point, enables it to break hard objects ; and secondly,
that by this form the nut or seed may be brought nearer the

Chap. V. SUBSTITUTES FOR THE HAND. 103
joining or articulation of the jaw; which gives the same advan
tage that we have, when we put a nut nearer the joint of the
nut-cracker, that is, nearer the fulcrum. One disadvantage of this
form and shortness of the bill would be, that the mandibles
could not open wide enough to take in a large seed ; but it is
provided that the upper mandible shall move upon the skull, as
well as the lower one. The form of the bill of the cross-bill
looks like an imperfection, but it is attended with real advan
tages ; it is not for crushing, but rather for splitting up a seed
into halves, and tearing the cones of the fir-tree. One of the
most curious provisions is in the bill of the sea crow ; the man
dibles are compressed into the form of simple laminse, and the
lower mandible projects beyond the upper one ; so that, as he
skims along the water, he dips his bill, and lifts his food, by
the most appropriate instrument.]
The whiskers of feline quadrupeds, through branches of the
fifth nerve, which enters their roots, possess a fine sensibility.
Birds possess it also in a high degree, in their mouths. Ducks,
and all that quaffer with their bills under water, have the sense
very fine ; and in the mandibles there are distributed branches
of the fifth nerve, remarkably developed. Animals feel in the
whole of their external surface; and. of serpents we may say,
that when they coil themselves round a body they exercise the
organ of touch over their whole length. Still it is the fifth
nerve of the brain, or nerves analogous to it, which, in the
greater number of animals deficient in extremities, or in proper
prehensile organs, ministers to the appropriation of food ; the
organs may vary in conformation, being sometimes only deli
cate palpi, sometimes horny processes; but in all, the senses
of touch and of taste are bestowed through this— which is the
nerve of sensation of the face, tongue, and lips, and the motor
nerve of the muscles of the jaws, in man.
But we may repeat, that, necessary as these appendages, and
this sensibility, are to the existence of the animals possessing
them, the imperfections which they exhibit serve to show, by
contrast, how happily the Hand is constructed. Our admira
tion is increased as we consider the sensibility to various im
pressions of touch, to varieties in the activity of the muscles,
and to changes of posture, possessed by the human hand ; and

104

SUBSTITUTES FOR THE HAND.

Chap. V.

all united to a facility of motion in the joints, for unfolding and
turning the fingers in every possible degree and direction, with
out abruptness or angularity, and in a manner inimitable by
any artifice of springs, pulleys, and levers.

Ifefct*

-^ I CHAPTER VI.
THE ARGUMENT PURSUED.
So far as we have hitherto proceeded, examining our subject by
comparative anatomy, we have been led to conclude that, inde
pendently of a system of parts marvellously combined to form
the individual animal, another more comprehensive one exists,
embracing all animals. However different animals may be in
form and bulk, or to whatever condition of the globe they
may have been adapted, a uniformity pervades the whole. We
have seen no accidental deviation or deformity; but every
change has been for a purpose, and every part has had its just
relation. In all the varieties, we have witnessed the forms
of the organs moulded with such a perfect accommodation to
their uses, and the alterations produced in such minute degrees,
¦ that all notion of accidental external agency must be rejected.
We might carry our demonstration downward through the
lower classes of animals. For example, in insects, we might
trace the different modifications of the feet, from their most
perfect or complex state, till they disappeared ; or, following
the changes in another direction, we might pursue them from
their smallest beginning to the most perfect condition of the
member, where thigh, leg, and tarsus are represented, as in the
fly. We should, at first, discern the feet on the bodies of
worms as fine cirri, like minute bristles, taking slight hold
of the surfaces over which they creep. In the sea- mouse
(aphrodita), we should perceive these bristles standing out
from distinct wart-like processes, which are furnished with
appropriate muscles. Then, in the myriapodes, the first order
of insects, we should see each foot of the " many feet " possess
ing a distinct articulation. From that, we might pass to insects
which have a thigh, leg, and foot, with the most perfect system
of flexor, extensor, and adductor muscles; possessing, in fine,
all that we most admire in human anatomy. Nay, it is more

106 THEORY OF Chap. ArI.
curious to observe how the feet of true insects are again
changed or modified to assume new offices — the anterior feet
becoming feelers, organs of prehension, or hands. We thus
perceive, that were it our object to examine the delicate and
finely-adapted instruments of insects, it would be easy to trace,
in almost every one of them, a succession of modifications.
Among the vertebrata, we have seen the hand represented by
a wing or a fin ; so might we discover an opposite change in
the wing of an insect. If we began with the fly which has two
delicate and perfect wings protected beneath a case, we should
find that the covers were capable of being raised, so as to admit
of the ready expansion of the wings : in another, the case itself
would be converted into a wing, and the fly be characterised
by having four wings : proceeding to a third example, we
should discover that this anterior wing was larger and more
perfect than the posterior : in the fourth specimen, we should
find that the posterior wings had disappeared, and that it was
furnished with only two perfect ones : if we continued the
examination, the next specimen would present an insect de
prived of wings altogether. These are not freaks of nature,
but new forms of the body ; different appendages required for
a different kind of poising of the fly in its flight. They are
adaptations which succeed each other in the same regular series
that has been observed to obtain in the larger animals ; in
which the intention cannot be mistaken.
A natural question forces itself upon us : — How are those
varieties to be explained ? The curious adaptation of a single
member to different offices, and to different conditions of ani
mals, has led to an extraordinary theory having been propounded
in the present day, — that all animals consist of the same " ele
ments." To say that, in every species of animal, however
differing in form and structure, the chemical elements entering
into the material of which they are formed, is the same, or
that the material is attracted and assimilated by the perform
ance of the same vital functions, would be just. But by ele
ments, the authors adverted to mean certain constant pieces,
which enter into the structure of the body; and which, they
suppose, by being transposed and differently arranged, will
explain all the diversities in the forms of animals. They
illustrate their views by the analogy of building a mansion.

Chap. VI. ELEMENTARY PARTS. 107
If there be, they say, a given quantity of materials, and these
be disproportionately expended in ornamenting the portico
and vestibule, the apartments for the family will be curtailed
of their proper dimensions. So, according to the theory, if an
elementary piece in an animal occupy a certain place, and be
missed in the corresponding place of another animal, it must
be sought for in some of the neighbouring organs.
But what foundation is there for saying that the aggrandise
ment of one member of an animal is attended with a proportional
deficiency of another ? The advocates of the theory rely much
upon examples derived from the study of the bones ; but the
system fails even in them, as will presently be shown. Mean
time, let us ask, is the addition of new parts to the stomach,
by which its complexity is greatly increased, as in ruminating
animals, attended with a diminution in the length of the intes
tinal canal, or more simplicity in its structure ? On the con
trary, is not a complex stomach necessarily connected with a
long and irregular intestine ? Does a complex intestinal canal
render the solid viscera in juxtaposition less perfect ? Does
the compound heart imply a more simple condition of the
lungs ?
We have already stated that, in the higher orders of verte
brata, the bones of the shoulder perform a double office ; that
while they afford a perfect foundation for the motions of the
upper extremity, they have an important share in the mechanism
of respiration. Let us take an instance where the mode of
breathing by the animal is inconsistent with what may be
deemed the original design of the bones of the shoulder. In
the batrachian order (p. 42), the ribs are absent. Where then,
under the guidance of the theory, are we to look for them ? If
a bone be absent in the cavity of the ear of the bird, it directs
us to seek for the bone in the jaw. But when a whole class of
animals is deficient in thirty-two ribs, it fails to inform us where
these are to be found; or how the supposed "elements" are
built up in adjacent structures. If, on the contrary, we adopt
the principle, that parts are added or withdrawn, with a never-
failing relation to the function to be performed, we can compre
hend that if the compages of the chest, to suit the peculiarities
of the animal, be removed, and the shoulder be consequently
deprived of support, the bones to which the extremity is fixed,

108 MECHANISM OF Chat. VI.
will be expanded and varied both in form and articulation, so
as to fulfil the main object of a shoulder, — that of giving secu
rity and a centre of motion to the arm.
With respect to the instance incidentally noticed, and brought
forward as a proof of the excellence of the theory, — the mecha
nism of the jaw in birds, — it proves the reverse, indeed, of what
is assumed. The matter to be explained is simply this. The
chain of bones in the ear, which is so curiously adapted, in the
mammalia, to convey the vibrations of the membrane of the
tympanum to the auditory nerve, is not found in the organ of
hearing in birds ; there is substituted a mechanism entirely dif
ferent. The supporters of the theory choose to say that the
incus is the one of the four bones of the chain which is absent
in the bird : and where, they ask, is it to be found ? Herei
they reply, in the apparatus of the jaw or mandible ; the bone
called os quadratum is the incus. I believe that the slight and
accidental resemblance which the bone B (see figure p. 109) in
the bird, has to the incus in man, is the real origin of the fancy.
Let us follow a juster mode of reasoning, and see how the
hypothesis in question obscures the beauty of the subject. The
first step ought to be, to inquire whether there be any imperfec
tion in the hearing of birds, from want of the incus. That
question is easily answered — the hearing of birds is most acute ;
the slightest noise alarms them ; the nightingale, or other bird
of song, in a summer evening will answer to the note of his
rival, when out of our hearing. We have next to observe an
other peculiarity in the organ — the absence of an external ear ;
the presence of which would be at variance with all that we
most admire in the shape of the bird, and direction of the
feathers, as conducing to its rapid passage through the air.
With this obvious defect of the external ear, can we admit that
the internal ear is also imperfect — notwithstanding the remark
able acuteness of hearing, which, we know, can result only from
the internal structure ?
Now, although the structure of the ear of the bird does, in
fact, differ from that of the mammalia, yet nothing is wanting.
The columella, a shaft of bone of exquisite delicacy, extending
from the outward membrane of the ear to the labyrinth, or
proper seat of the nerve of hearing, occupies the same place, and
performs the same office, as the chain o? four bones in the ear

Chap. VI.

BIRD'S BILL.

109

of the mammalia : and we have no authority for affirming that
the incus, more than any other bone of the chain, is wanting.
The sense of hearing is enjoyed by birds in as-exquisite a degree
as by quadrupeds : the organ is not imperfect ; it is a varied
apparatus, adapted to a new construction ; it is suited to the
condition of the bird : and there is no accidental dislocation or
substitution. Let us but look to the mandibles of the bird, and see the use
to which this os quadratum, supposed by the upholders of the
theory to be transposed from the ear, is applied in the apparatus
for opening them ; and we shall have a most curious example of
mechanical adaptation. Indeed, the bill of the bird, in some
degree, pertains to our subject, as it is an organ of prehension
and of touch. It is withal a fly-trap — hence, its motions must
be rapid. Now, the velocity is increased by the most obvious
means imaginable, — that is, by giving motion to both mandibles,
instead of to one. When a dog snaps, he throws back his head,
and thereby raises the upper jaw at the same time that the lower
one is dropped ; but these are slow and clumsy motions, per
formed by the muscles of the neck as well as by those of the
jaws ; and the poor hound makes many attempts before he can
catch the fly that teases him. But a swallow or a fly-catcher
makes no second effort; the apparatus of prehension which
they possess corresponds so admirably to the liveliness of their
eye and to their instinct. The mechanism by which such rapi
dity of motion is attained is this : the muscles which depress

the lower mandible, by the same effort elevate the upper one.
A is a process of the lower mandible, projecting behind the
centre of motion ; accordingly, when the muscle attached to this
process contracts, it causes the point of the bill to descend : but

110 THEORY OF Chap. VI.
the os quadratum (b), situated between the lower mandible and
the skull, is at the same time compressed : therefore, a shaft or
process (c) from this bone, and which has its anterior extremity
fixed against the upper mandible, projects forwards ; hence, when
the muscle acts, and the os quadratum receives the pressure of
the lower mandible, and the process (c) is thrust forward, like
a bolt, against the upper mandible, the latter moves upon the
skull at (d), and is elevated at the same time that the lower is
depressed.* Here, then, is a piece of mechanism as distinct as
the lock of a gun, and manifestly intended, as we have said, to
give rapidity to the motions of the bill Now, whether is it
nearer the truth to consider this as a new apparatus, suited to
the necessities of the creature, or to look upon it as an acci
dental result of the introduction of a bone, which in its proper
office has nothing to do with the jaw ?
But we have wandered somewhat from our subject. Let us
test the correctness of the theory by attending to the bones
which correspond to those of the hand. We have seen that, in
animals generally, the same system of bones is preserved, vari
ously modified so as to be adapted to every possible change in
office. Now as it is insisted that the number of elements of an
organ continues the same, what can be said with regard to the
number of bones entering into the paddle, in the saurian and
chelonian reptiles % Whilst in man the bones of the wrist and
fingers are twenty-seven, and those of the horse only fifteen, the
corresponding polygonous bones of the ichthyosaurus (p. 72) are
sixty or seventy. Yet, notwithstanding there are in the paddle
so many bones, in tne part corresponding to the arm and fore
arm, there is only the proper complement. If the system fail
us in such an obvious instance, with what confidence can we
prosecute the inquiry, under its guidance, into the analogy of
the intricate bones of the spine and head.t
In seeking assistance from the works of distinguished natu
ralists, we do not always find indications of that disposition of
mind which we should expect to prevail as a necessary result of
* Another process of the os quad- ten, the theory has been essentially
ratwm, directed more internally, as- modified. See " On the Archetype,
sists in raising the upper mandible, and Homologies of the Vertebral
T Since the above criticism, justi- Skeleton;" and "Discourse on the
fiedbythe extravagance of the views Nature of Limbs," by Professor
propounded at the time, was writ- Owen. — (S.)

Chap. VI. SURROUNDING INFLUENCE. HI
their peculiar studies ; we miss that combination of genius with
sound sense which distinguished Cuvier, and has been ever the
characteristic of all great men of science. It is, above all, sur
prising with what perverse ingenuity some will seek to obscure
the conception of a Divine Author, an intelligent, designing, and
benevolent Being; how, clinging to the greatest absurdities,
they will rather interpose the cold and inanimate influence of
some theory of " elements," so as to extinguish in our minds all
feeling of dependence, all emotions of gratitude.
Some comparative anatomists there are who will maintain
that all varieties in animated beings are the mere result of
- changes of circumstance, influencing an original animal ! They
hold that new organs have been produced by a desire, and con
sequent effort, of an animal, to stretch and mould itself into a
shape suitable to the condition in which it is placed ; — that, as
the leaves of a plant expand to light, or turn to the sun, or as
the roots shoot to the appropriate soil, so do the exterior organs
of animals grow and adapt themselves ! An opinion, as we
shall presently find, has prevailed that the organisation of an
animal determines its propensities ; but the philosophers of
whom we now speak, imagine the contrary; — they pretend
that, influenced by new circumstances, organs can accommodate
themselves, and assume particular forms.
It must be here remarked that there are no instances in the
animal kingdom, of new organs being produced by the union of
individuals belonging to different species. Nor is there any
foundation for the opinion, that new species may be formed by
the union of individuals of different families. But it is con
tended, that, although in the last 5000 years the species of ani
mals have not changed, we cannot tell what may have been the
effect of revolutions occurring in the globe before that time;
that is, previous to the present condition of the world. On sub
jects of such a nature, however, we can argue only from what
we know, and what we see.
We do, however, perceive, in the conformation of the same
animal, surprising changes ; some of which are familiar to us.
But they all evince foreknowledge and a prospective plan, — an
alteration gradually taking place in preparation for, never con
sequent upon, a new condition. It will suffice for our purpose
to take the highest and lowest examples. Man, in the body,

112 THEORY OF Chap. VL
has two conditions of existence ; hardly two beings can be less
alike than an infant and an adult. Now, the whole foetal state
is a preparation for birth. My readers would not thank me,
were I to explain how necessary to his being born alive are the
proportions and forms of the infant, as contrasted with those of
the full-grown man : yet nothing would be so easy to demon
strate. From the moment of birth, the growth of the body
takes a new direction, so that the proportions are changed, and
the conformation is accommodated to the erect posture. Few,
however, are aware that the life of the child unborn has rela
tion to its condition ; and that if the period of birth be pro
tracted beyond the appointed time, it will die, not from a defect
of nourishment, but because the period has arrived for a change
in its whole economy !
Now, previous to birth, all the organs of the body are being
prospectively developed ; the lungs becoming perfected, before
the' admission of air — new tubes constructed, before the flood
gates, which are to admit the blood, are opened. But there are
other provisions finer, and more curious, than these. Take any
of the grand organs, as the heart or brain ; examine it through
all its gradations of change in the embryo state, and we shall
recognise it, first, as simple in form ; then gradually expanding ;
and finally, assuming the condition peculiar to adolescence. So
that it is affirmed, not without the support of a most curious
series of observations, that in its earlier stage of growth the
human brain resembles that of a fish ; next, it bears a resem
blance to the cerebral mass of the reptile ; in its increase, it is like
that of a bird ; and slowly, and only after birth, does it assume
the proper form and consistence of the human brain. But in
none of all these stages of development do we see the influence
of any supposed law of elementary constituents ; or of any other
law, than that the order of his development has been so pre
destined. If, passing over the thousand instances which might be ga
thered from intermediate parts of the chain of animal life, we
were to proceed to examine the structure of insects, more par
ticularly the metamorphoses they undergo, similar conclusions
would be arrived at. For example, if we took the larva of a
winged insect, we should perceive in the arrangement of its
muscles, and distribution of its nervous system, all the requisite

Jhap. VI. SURROUNDING INFLUENCE. 113
provisions for its moving over ground. But if, anticipating the
metamorphosis, we dissected the same larva immediately before
the change, we should find a new apparatus in progress towards
perfection ; we should see the muscles of its many feet decay
ing ; the nerves to each muscle wasting ; a new arrangement of
muscles, with new points of attachment, directed to the wings,
instead of to the feet ; and finally, a new distribution of nerves,
accommodated to the members about to be put in motion.
Here is no budding or stretching forth of organs, under the in
fluence of surrounding elements ; it is a change operated on all
the economy, and prospective, that is, in anticipation of a con
dition which the creature has not yet attained.
These facts countenance the conclusion drawn from the com
parative anatomy of the hand and arm — that with each new in
strument, visible externally, there are a thousand internal rela
tions established. The introduction of a new mechanical con
trivance in the bones or joints, infers an alteration in every part
of the skeleton; a corresponding arrangement of all the muscles;
an appropriate distribution of the nervous filaments laid inter
mediate between the instrument and the centre of life and mo
tion ; and finally, in relation to the new organ, new sources of
activity must be created, otherwise the part will hang an useless
appendage. It must now be apparent, that nothing less than the Power
which' originally created, is equal to effect those changes on
animals, which adapt them to their conditions : and that their
organisation is predetermined ; not consequent on the condition
of the earth or of the surrounding elements. Neither can a
property in the animal itself account for the changes which take
place in the individual, any more than it can for the varieties in
the species. Every thing declares the diversity of species to
have its origin in distinct creations ; and not to be owing to a
process of gradual transition from some original type. Any
other hypothesis' than that of new creations of animals, suited to
the successive changes in the inorganic matter of the globe— the
condition of the water, atmosphere, and temperature— brings
with it only an accumulation of difficulties.
To fortify what we have said, we ought not to omit bringing
into the argument a series of changes of structure altogether
H

114 CHANGES IN THE BODY Chap. VT.
differing from those which we have been hitherto considering—
revolutions in the material of the frame, which take place,
without a pause, and during the whole life, in every animal.
From no study of the mechanical adaptations of the body,
not even from examining the structure and endowments of the
organs of the senses, can we obtain a higher idea of the Power
which continually superintends the processes of the economy,
than from viewing the influence of life, in collecting, arranging,
and incessantly changing the material of the animal frame.
Astounded by the magnitude of natural objects, bewildered by
seeing neither beginning nor end, beholding processes of decay
alone, persuaded, almost, that everything must be yielded up
to a power of destruction, — how useful is it to possess proofs,
in the microcosm of the living body, that even when the sub
stance of which that body is composed, is undergoing a cease
less change, to its minutest elements, the whole animal system
may continue in freshness and vigour ?
[Is it not surprising that an individual, who retains every
peculiarity of body and of mind, whose features, whose gait
and mode of action, whose voice, gestures, and complexion we
are ready to attest as the very proof of personality, — should,
in the course of a few days, change every particle of his solid
fabric; that he, whom we suppose we saw, is, so far as his
body is concerned, a perfectly different person from him we
now see ! That the fluids may change, we are ready to allow;
but that the solids should be thus ever shifting, seems at first
improbable. And yet, if there be anything firmly established
in physiology, if there be truth in the science at all, that fact is
incontrovertible. There is nothing like this in inanimate nature. It is beauti
ful to see the shooting of a crystal ; to note the formation of
the integrant particles from their elements in solution, and
these, under the influence of attraction or crystalline polarity,
assuming a determinate shape ; but the form here is permanent.
In the different processes of elective attraction, and in fer
mentation, we perceive a commotion. ; but in a little time the
products are formed, and the particles are at rest. In these
instances there is nothing like the revolutions of the living
animal substance, where the material is alternately arranged,
decomposed, and re-arranged.

Chap. VI. DURING LIFE. 115
The end of this is, that the machinery of the body is
ever new ; that it possesses a property within itself of mend
ing that which was broken, of throwing off that which was
useless, of building up that which was insecure and weak,
of repelling disease, or of controlling it, and of substitut
ing what is healthful for that which is morbid. The whole
animal machinery we have seen to be fragile and liable to
injury; now, without this continual change of material, and
this new modelling of that material, our lives would be pre
carious ; the texture of our bodies would be spoiled ; like some
fine piece of mechanism which had stopped, and which no
workman had knowledge sufficient to reconstruct. By these
living actions the minute particles of the body die successively;
not as in the final death of the whole body ; but part by part
is deprived of vitality, and taken into the general circulation,
in order to be cast out of the system ; whilst new parts received
from the food are endowed with life, and built up in their
place. Thus we see that nature, instead of having to establish
a new mode of action for every casualty, heals all wounds,
unites all broken bones, throws off all morbid parts, by the
continuance of its usual operations ; and the surgeon, who is
modest in his calling, has nothing to do but to watch, lest
ignorance or prejudice interfere with the process of nature.
This property of the living body to restore itself when de
ranged, or to heal itself when broken or torn, is an action
which so frequently assumes the appearance of reason, as if
it were adapting itself to the particular occasion, that Mr John
Hunter speaks of parts of the body as. "conscious of their
imperfection," and "acting from the stimulus of necessity;"
thus giving the properties of mind to the body, as the only
explanation of phenomena so wonderful.
The bones of the leg and thigh, which suffer the fatigue of
motion, and support the weight of the body, are nevertheless
continually undergoing an operation of repair; in which the
old particles are withdrawn, whilst new ones replace them,
without in the slightest measurable degree diminishing their
length, or altering their proper form. We see with what care
the walls of a house are shored up, to admit of repair— how
correctly the workman must estimate the strength of his pillars
and beams— how nicely he must hammer in his. wedges, thai;

116 CHANGES IN THE BODY Chap. VL
every interstice may be filled, and no strain be permitted ; and
if this operation fail in the slightest degree, it is attended with
a rent in the wall from top to bottom. We say, then, that
from the very awkwardness of this proceeding, (in which, after
all, there is danger of the whole fabric tumbling about the
workmen,) we are called upon to admire how the solid pillars
in our own frames are a thousand times renewed, whilst the
plan of the original fabric is followed, to the utmost nicety, in
their restoration. And if it deviate at all, it is only in a man
ner to surprise us the more : since it will be discovered that
the change has been effected with a view to adapt the strength
of material to some new circumstance ; as the increasing weight
which the bone has to support, or the jar it is subject to, from
some alteration in the activity or exercise of the body.
There is a living principle, which, while the material changes,
is itself permanent ; attracting and arranging, dissolving and
throwing off successive portions of the solids. And, influencing
this living principle, there is a law which shapes, and limits
the growth of, every part; and carries it through a regular
series of changes, in which its form and aptness for its office
are preserved, whilst the material alone is altered. The influ
ence of disease will, for a time, disorder this modelling process,
and produce tumours and distortions ; but when at length the
healthy action — that is, the natural action — prevails, these
incumbrances are carried away, and the fair proportions of
the fabric are restored.]
Life preserves the materials of the body free from the influ
ence of those affinities which hold the inorganic world together;
and it not only does that, but it substitutes other laws. Of the
wonders of the microscope, none exceed those presented on
looking at the early rudiments of an animal — it may be of
the largest creature that inhabits the earth. This rudimentary
structure will but appear an homogeneous, transparent, soft
jelly ; there will be visible in it only a single pulsating point ;
yet this mass possesses within it a principle of life; and it is
not only ordered what this influence shall perform in attracting
matter, and building up the complex structure of the body, but
even the duration of the animal's existence is from the begin
ning defined. The term may be limited to a day, and the life
be truly ephemeral ; or it may be prolonged to a hundred years ;

CHAr. Vl. DURING LIFE. 117
but the period is adjusted according to the condition and enjoy
ment of the individual, and to the continuance of its species, as
perfectly as are the mechanism and structure themselves.
[In a seed, or a nut, or an egg, we know that there is life :
from the length of time that these bodies will remain without
development, we are forced to acknowledge that this life is
stationary or dormant; and that it is limited to the counter
action of putrefaction or chemical decomposition. But no
sooner does this living principle become active, than a series
of intestinal or internal changes are commenced ; which are
regularly progressive, without a moment's interruption, while
life continues. That principle, which may continue an indefi
nite number of days, months, or years, without producing any
change, begins at once to exhibit its influence, builds up the
individual body, regulates the actions of secretion and absorp
tion; and, by its operation upon the material of the frame,
stamps it with external marks of infancy, maturity, and age.
Those who say that life results from structure, and that the
material is the ruling part, bid us look to the contrast of youth
and age. The activity of limb and buoyancy of spirit in youth
they consider as necessary consequences of the newness and
perfection of the organisation. On the other hand, a ruined
tower, unroofed, its walls exposed to be broken up by alterna
tion of frost and heat, dryness and moisture, wedged by the
roots of ivy, and toppling to its fall, they compare to old age—
with the shrunk limbs, tottering gait, shrivelled face, and scat
tered grey hair of the old.
But in all this there is no truth. Whilst there are life and
circulation, there is change of the material of the frame ; and
there is a sign of that if a broken bone unite, or a wound heal.
Ascribe the distinction to the velocity of circulation, or to the
more or less energy of action, or to the rapidity of change ; but
with the antiquity of the material, it can have nothing to do.
The roundness and fulness of flesh, the smoothness, transpa
rency, and colour of the cheek, belong to youth as characteristic
of the time of life, not as a necessary quality of the material.
Is there a physiognomy in all nature— among birds and beasts,
insects and flowers— and shall man alone have no indication of
his condition, in the outward form and character? The dis
tinctions in the body apparent in the stages of life, have a

118 CHANGES IN THE BODY Chap. VI.
deeper source than the accidental effect of the deterioration of
the material of the frame. The same changes which are wrought
on the structure of the body in youth and in the spring of life,
are going on in the last term of life ; but the fabric is rebuilt
on a different plan ; each stage, from the embryo to the foetus,
the fcetus to the child, from that to adolescence, to maturity
and to old age, has its outward form, as indicative of the season
of life, but not of the perfection or imperfection of the gross
material. We might as well consider the difference in the term
of life of the annual or biennial plant as compared with the
oak, or of the ephemeris fly as compared with the bird that
hawks at it, to result from the qualities of the matter which
form them, as that the outward characters of the different
stages of human life, arise from the perfection or imperfection
of the material of the body. Not only has every creature its
appointed term of life, but parts of the body, in that respect,
are independent of the whole ; some organs, at their regulated
period, shoot to perfection ; and at their allotted time, decay,
before the failure of the body. What can more distinctly show
that so long as the processes of digestion and assimilation go
on, the material of the frame is ever decaying, ever renewing,
and never older, and never younger ? We must conclude that
the differences in outward appearances, at the distinct epochs
of our life, have been designed as signs which the Creator in
tended should be interpreted ; and that the tenure by which we
hold life may be continually before us.
The grand phenomena of nature make powerful impressions
on our imagination, and we acknowledge them to be under the
guidance of Providence ; but it is more pleasing, more agreeable
to our self-importance, it gives us more confidence in that Pro
vidence, to discover that the minutest changes in nature are
equally His care, and that " all things do homage. ' This exalt
ation of ourselves is not like the influence of pride or common
ambition. We may use the words of Socrates to his scholar,
who saw, in the contemplation of nature, only a proof of his
own insignificance, and concluded " that the gods had no need
of him ;" which drew this answer from the sage : "The greater
the munificence they have shown in the care of thee, so much
the more honour and service thou owest them ! "]
When the many beautiful fabrics built up within the animal

Chap. VI.

DURING LIFE.

119

body are passed under review, and it is proved that they are not
permanent, but are the product of an energy of life, which con
tinues uniform in its operation, whilst all the materials upon
which it works are changing — who can hesitate to believe, that
the revolutions occurring in the inorganic world around us, are
superintended by a presiding Power ? The difficulty of compre
hension here must be attributed to the partial view of these
changes which we can alone obtain. Their fulfilment extends
into periods far beyond our measure of time. Nevertheless, we
cannot doubt that such a Power does overlook them ; and we
must acknowledge that a balance is preserved, and that order
and harmony prevail.

CHAPTER VII.
OF SENSIBILITY AND TOUCH.
We find every organ of sense, with the exception of that of
touch, more perfect in brutes than in man. In the eagle, hawk,
gazelle, and feline tribe, the perfection of the eye is admirable ;
in the dog, wolf, hyasna, as well as birds of prey, the sense of
smell is inconceivably acute ; and if we hesitate to assign a more
exquisite sense of taste to the inferior animals, we cannot doubt
their superiority in that of hearing. But in the sense of touch,
seated in the hand, man claims the superiority ; and it is of
consequence to our conclusion that we should observe why it
is so.
Some author has said that, accompanying the exercise of
touch, there is a desire of obtaining knowledge ; in other words,
a determination of the will towards the organ of the sense.
Bichat avers that touch is active, whilst the other senses are
passive. This opinion implies something to be understood —
something deeper than what is expressed. We shall arrive at
the truth by considering that, in the use of the hand, a double
sense is exercised. In touch, we must not only feel the contact
of the object ; but we must be sensible of the muscular effort
made to reach or grasp it in the fingers. It is in the exercise of
the latter power, that there is really any effort made. There can
be no more direction of the will towards the proper nerve of
touch, than there can be towards any sensible nerve. But, before
entering on the consideration of the sensibility, and the actions,
which belong to the fingers, we must attend to the common sense
of feeling in the surface generally.*
Besides that common sensibility is bestowed upon the hand
as upon other parts, and some inquiry into it is necessary for
our subject, I enter upon its examination the more willingly,
* See the Account of the Author's I at the commencement of the volume,
Discoveries in the Nervous System, | — (S.)

Chap. VII. SENSIBILITY AND TOUCH. 121
because nothing can afford more surprising proofs of design
and benevolence in the Author of our being, than this property.
However obviously the illustrations which we have already given,
from the mechanism of the body, point to the same conclusion,
they are not comparable, in point of interest, to the examples
which we are about to present, from the living endowments of
the frame.
I have used the term common sensibility, in conformity with
the language of authors and customary parlance ; but the ex
pressions, "common nerves," and "common sensibility," in a
philosophical inquiry, are inadmissible. Indeed, the use of
these terms has been the cause of much of the obscurity which
has hung over the subject of the nervous system ; and of our
blindness to the benevolent adaptation of the endowments of
that system to the condition of animal existence. Thus it has
been supposed that some nerves are but coarsely provided for
sensation, while others, of a finer quality, are adapted to more
delicate impressions. It has been assumed that the nerve of
the eye is finer than the nerve of the finger — without consider
ing that the retina* is insensible to qualities, of which the
nerve of touch is cognisant. Nerves are, indeed, appropriated
to peculiar senses, and to bestowing distinct functions ; but
delicacy of texture has nothing to do with that. It is not
because the nerve of touch has a coarser or more common
texture than the optic or auditory nerve, that it is insensible to
light or to sound. The beauty and perfection of the system is,
that each nerve is susceptible to its peculiar impression only.
The nerve of the skin is alone capable of giving the sense of
contact, as the nerve of the eye is alone capable of giving
vision. If this appropriation resulted merely from delicacy of
texture, if the retina were sensible to light only from possess
ing a finer sensibility than the nerve of touch, the acuteness of
the sense would be a source of torment; whereas it is most
beneficently provided that the retina shall not be sensible to
pain, or be capable of conveying any impressions but those
which operate according to its proper function, producing light
and colour.
The pain experienced in the eye from irritation of dust,
depends on a distinct nerve from that which bestows vision ;
* The retina is the expansion of the optic nerve within the eye.

122

SENSIBILITY OF THE SURFACE Chap. VII.

and again, the sensitive nerve of the eye is susceptible to a
different kind of impression from the sensation of the body
generally; of which more presently. When the surgeon per
forms the operation of couching for cataract, and the point of
the needle passes through the outer coat of the eye, it gives the
sensation of pricking, which is an exercise of the nerve of
touch ; but when the needle passes through the retina, which
is the expanded nerve of vision, and forms the internal coat of
the eye, it gives the idea of a spark of fire in the eye. The
nerve of vision is as insensible to touch, as the nerve of touch
is insensible to light.*
We form our notions of sensibility from that of the skin;
it is in constant communication with things around us, and
affected by their qualities; it affords us information which
corrects the ideas received from the other organs of sense, and
it excites our attention to preserve our bodies from injury. So
familiar are we with the painful effects of injuries upon the
surface, that all are apt to imagine that the deeper the injury,
the more dreadful the pain. But that is not the fact ; nor
would it accord with the beneficent design which shines out
everywhere. To such irritants as would give the skin pain, the
internal parts are totally insensible. The sensibility of the skin
not only serves to give the sense of touch to the surface, but it
guards the parts beneath; and as the deeper structures cannot
be reached except through the skin, and we must suffer pain in
it before they can be injured, it would be superfluous to bestow
sensibility upon the deeper parts themselves. If the internal
organs possessed sensibility similar in kind and degree to that
of the integument, so far from answering a useful purpose, it-
would have been, in the common exercise of the frame, a con
tinual source of pain.
Surgeons, from becoming practically acquainted with a
greater number of the phenomena on which physiology is
founded than physicians, have perhaps superior opportunities
of advancing that science. In performing an operation, the
surgeon informs his patient, after he has cut through the skin,
that the greatest pain is over ; but if, in the advanced stage, he

* These views of the distinct func
tions of the nerves of sense, were pub
lished (1811) in the earliest state

ment of my observations on the Ner
vous System.

Chap. VII. COMPARED WITH THE DEEPER PARTS. 123
is obliged to extend the incision, it is properly considered an
awkwardness; not only because it proves that he has mis
calculated what was necessary to the correct performance of
his operation, but because the patient, bearing courageously the
deeper incisions, cannot sustain the renewed cutting of the
skin, without giving token of nsvgrc rjain. The fact of the
exquisite sensibility of the surface, as compared with the deeper
parts, being thus ascertained by daily experience, we cannot
mistake the intention : that it is to make the skin the safe
guard to the delicate textures within, by forcing us to avoid
what will injure the surface. And it does afford a more
effectual defence, than if our bodies were clad with the hide of
the rhinoceros.
The greater the consideration we give to this subject, the
more convincing will be the proofs that the painful sensibility
of the skin is a benevolent provision ; that it makes us alive to
injuries, which would otherwise bruise and destroy the internal
vital organs.
In pursuing the inquiry, we learn with much interest, that
when bones, cartilages of the joints, or the membranes and liga
ments which cover them, are exposed — they may be cut, pricked,
or even burned, without the patient, or the animal, suffering the
slightest pain. We have arrived at the full comprehension of
this subject slowly ; disagreeable experiments have been made :
but the following is as interesting as it was innocently per
formed. A man, who had his finger torn off; so as to be con
nected by the tendon only, came to a pupil of Dr Hunter : " I
shall now see," he said, " whether this man has any sensibility
in the tendon." He laid a cord along the finger, and blindfold
ing the patient, cut across the tendon. "Tell me," he asked,
" what I have cut ? " " Why you have cut across the cord, to 'be
sure," was the answer. At first, these facts would appear to
prove, beyond all question, that the structures enumerated are
devoid of sensation. After witnessing such remarkable in
stances of absence of pain, who could come to any other conclu
sion? But if we adopt the true, philosophical, and, I may say,
religious view of the subject, and consider that pain is not con
ferred as an evil, but, on the contrary, for benevolent and im
portant purposes, we perceive that the subject requires further
elucidation.

124 PAIN THE SAFEGUARD Chap. VIL
In the first place, it is obvious, that if a sensibility like that
of the skin had been bestowed upon these internal parts, it
must have remained unexercised. Had the bones, cartilages,
ligaments, or tendons been rendered sensible to pricking or
burning, they would have possessed a quality never to be use
ful ; since, without previous warning received through the skin,
no such injuries as these could reach them.
But further, allowing pain to be a benevolent provision which
admonishes us to avoid such violence as would affect the func
tions of parts, we may yet inquire whether certain other injuries
may not reach these internal structures, without warning from
the skin. Now, of this there can be no doubt; the textures
around the joints are subject to sprain, rupture, and shocks,
while the skin may not be at all implicated in the accident.
Accordingly, notwithstanding the apparent demonstration by
experiment that these internal parts are devoid of sensibility,
it is evident that they must possess an appropriate kind of feel
ing, or it would imply an imperfection. Every day's observa
tion shows that such is the case : for we find that the cartilages,
ligaments, and tendons, which may be pricked, cut, or burned,
without exhibition of pain, are acutely sensible to concussion
stretching, or laceration. Is it not remarkable that men, the
luminaries of their profession, should have held that these parts
were insensible ; and yet that they should have been in daily
attendance upon persons suffering from sprained ankle ; where
the structures injured are the very ones enumerated, and where
the pain, felt at the instant of the sprain, is excessive ?
How consistent, then, and beautiful is the distribution of this
. property of life ! The sensibility to pain varies with the func
tion of the part. The skin is alive to every possible injurious
impression likely to be made upon it ; but had the same kind
and degree of sensibility been universal, — had the membranes
between the bones of our great joints, or the ligaments which
knit the bones, or the tendons of the muscles, been sensible in
the same manner and degree as the skin, or surface of the eye,
we should have been racked with pain in the common move
ments of the body — the mere weight of one bone on another, or
motion of a limb, would have been attended with suffering as
acute as that of a man who should attempt to walk in a violent
attack of rheumatism. On the other hand, had the deeper struc-

Chap. VII. OF THE BODY. 125
tures possessed no sensibility, we should have been without a
guide to our exertions. The internal parts do possess sensibi
lity; but it is limited to warning us of those kinds of injury
alone which may possibly reach, so deeply. It teaches us what
we can do with impunity ; if we leap from too great a height,
or carry too heavy a burden, or attempt to interrupt a body
whose impetus is too powerful, we are admonished of the dan
ger as effectually by this internal sensibility, as of the approach
of a sharp point, or a hot iron, to the skin. Accordingly, pain
is not given here superfluously : the safe exercise and enjoy
ment of every part is permitted without alloy : the excess only
is restrained.In continuation of this view of the benevolent object for
which pain is awarded, I may be excused for stating the argu
ment as I have delivered it in my lectures : — •
" Without meaning to impute inattention or restlessness, I
may request you to observe how every one occasionally changes
his position, and shifts the pressure of the weight of his body.
Were you constrained to keep in one position during the whole
hour, you would rise stiff and lame. The sensibility of the skin
here guides you to do that which, if neglected, might be followed
even by death of the part. When a patient is affected with par
alysis of the lower half of the body, we give especial directions
to the nurse and attendants to change the position of his limbs
at short intervals, to place pillows under his loins and hams,
and to shift them often. If these precautions be omitted, you
know the consequence to be inflammation of the integument
where the pressure is directed ; and from that come fever, local
irritation, and death.
"Thus you perceive that, without disturbing your train of
thought, the natural sensibility of the skin induces you to shift
the body, so as to permit the free circulation of the blood in
the minute vessels : and when this sensibility is lost, the utmost
attention of friends, and the watchfulness of the nurse, are but
poor substitutes for the protection which nature is continually
affording. If you thus suffer, lying on a soft bed, how could
you encounter the rubs and shocks incident to an active life, if
deprived of the sense of pain in the skin 1 You must acknow
ledge that the sensibility of the integuments is as much a pro
tection to the frame generally, as that of the eyelids is to tho

126

SENSIBILITY TO HEAT.

Chap. VII.

eyes ; and the reflection suggests a motive for gratitude which
probably you never thought of before."
Sensibility of the hand to the varieties of temperature is a dif
ferent endowment from that of touch. This property is seated
in the skin, and is, consequently, limited to the exterior surface
of the body. The internal parts being of uniform temperature,
it would have been superfluous to bestow it upon them. As we
are surrounded by an atmosphere the temperature of which is
continually varying, its extremes might cause the destruction of
our frame ; and as we must suit our exertions or contrivances to
sustain life against such vicissitudes, the possession of this
peculiar sensibility affords another proof of a foreknowledge of
our condition. To illustrate the evils which might befall us were
it not for this sensibility, we might recur to our former example.
The paralytic, having no sense of the extremes of temperature
is frequently severely burned ; or his extremities may be morti
fied through cold. A man, who had lost this sense in his right
hand, but retained muscular power, lifted the cover of a pan,
which from falling into the fire was burning hot, and" deliberately
replaced it, without being conscious of the heat; the effect,
however, was that the skin of the palm and fingers was de
stroyed. The same man had a continual sensation of coldness
in the affected arm, which actual cold did not aggravate, nor
heat in any degree assuage.*
Sensibility to heat, inasmuch as it is capable of becoming a
painful sensation, is not only a safeguard, but a never-failing
excitement to activity, and a continual source of enjoyment.
Cold braces and animates to exertion, whilst .the warmth which
is pleasant to us, is genial to all the operations of the animal
economy. And here we may remark an adaptation of the living
property, very different from a physical influence. Heat is uni
form in its eff'ect on dead matter ; science informs us that warmth

* There are certain morbid condi
tions of sensation when cold bodies
feel intensely hot. — Dr Abercrom-
bie's Inquiry into the Intellectual
Powers. It is a curious illustration of the
powers of the cutaneous nerves to
receive impressions of the varieties
of temperature, that when one is
affected by disease anywhere in its

course, the sensation of burning may
accompany the pain ; and the patient
will refer the sense of heat to that
part of the skin to which the extreme
branches of the nerve are distributed.
By a burning sensation in the sole of
the foot, the surgeon may be directed
to disease seated in the centre of the
thidi.

Chap. VII. INSENSIBILITY OF THE BRAIN. 127
and cold are only relative degrees of caloric. But the sensation
varies, as heat is given to, or abstracted from, the living body.
To the skin, cold and heat are distinct sensations ; and without
such contrast, we should not continue to enjoy the sense. For
in the nervous system it holds universally, that variety, or con
trast, is necessary to sensation ; the finest organ of sense losing
its property by the continuance of the same impression. It is
by a comparison of cold and heat that we enjoy either con
dition. To contrast still more strongly the sensibility of the exter
nal surface with the endowments of the internal parts ; and to
show how very different from what is suggested by first experi
ence the property sensibility generally is, and how admirably
varied and accommodated it is to the functions, we shall add
one other fact. The brain is insensible — that part of the brain
which, if disturbed or diseased, takes away consciousness, is as
insensible as the leather of our shoe ! That the brain may be
touched, or a portion of it cut off, without interrupting the
patient in the sentence that he is uttering, is a surprising cir
cumstance! Physiologists formerly inferred, from this fact,
that the more important organ of the brain had not been
reached. But that opinion arose from the notion that a nerve
must necessarily be sensible ; whereas, when we consider that
different parts of the nervous system possess totally distinct
endowments, and that some nerves, as I have elsewhere shown,
though exquisitely alive to their proper office, are insensible to
touch and incapable of giving pain, we have no just reason to
conclude that the brain should be sensible, or exhibit the pro
perty of a nerve of the skin. Reason on it as we may, the fact
is so ; — the brain, through which every impression must be con
veyed before it is perceived, is itself insensible. This informs
us that sensibility is not a necessary attendant on the delicate
texture of a living part, but that it must have an appropriate
organ, and that it is an especial provision.*
To satisfy my reader on this interesting subject, I shall con
trast two organs, one external and exposed, and the other inter
nal and carefully excluded from injury.
The eye, consisting of its proper nerve of vision, and its trans-
* See the Sensibility of the Retina, " Additional illustrations."

128 SENSIBILITY OF THE EYE Chap. VIL
parent humours and coats, is an organ of exquisite delicacy;
and not only is it exposed to all the injuries to which the general
surface of the body is liable, but it is subject to be inflamed and
rendered opaque by there getting into it particles so light that
they float in the atmosphere, and to the contact of which the
common skin is quite insensible. Now the mechanical, and
more obvious contrivance for the protection of this organ, is a
ready motion of the eyelids, and the shedding of tears ; which
tears, coming, as it were, from a small fountain, play over the
surface of the eye, and wash away whatever is offensive. But
to regulate the action of this little mechanical and hydraulic
apparatus, an exquisite sensibility is required— not that kind
which enables the eye to receive the impressions of light, and
may at times warn it of approaching danger, but a property
which more resembles the tenderness of the skin, yet is happily
adapted by its fineness to the condition of the organ.
If the excitement which puts in motion the mechanism for
guarding the eye, depended on our will — if it were not an influ
ence quicker than thought — the apparatus would be unavailing.
It is not by feeling the pain of the offensive l.ody, estimating its
dangers, and acting on the conviction, that we close the eyes
to avoid injury. That would be all too slow for the purpose.
When a light, foreign body touches the eyelashes, seated on the
tender extremities of sensitive nerves, they give alarm; and
more swiftly than an act of volition, they cause a motion both
of the eyelids and eyeballs, even before the offending body can
touch the eye's surface.
It sometimes happens that the nerve which bestows this ap
propriate sensibility on the external surface of the eye, and
sends its branches into the roots of the eyelashes, is injured,
and deprived of its functions ; and the consequences are dis
tressing. Smoke and offensive particles afloat in the atmosphere
enter and rest upon the eye, or flies and dust lodge under the
eyelids ; but without producing sensation, and without exciting
either the hydraulic or mechanical apparatus to act in expelling
them. Yet, although these objects do not give pain, they irri
tate the surfaces and produce inflammation ; that causes opa
city of the fine transparent membranes of the eye, and the
organ is lost, even when the proper nerve of- vision remains en
tire. I have seen many instances of the eye being thus deprived

Chap. VH. SENSIBILITY OF THE EYE. 129
of sensibility to touch;* and on these occasions, before the
transparency of the organ was lost, it has been singular to re
mark, that when the hand was waved before the eye, or a
feather brought near it, the person shut the eye ; yet when the
finger was put into the eye, and rubbed the surface, or when
blood was drawn from the inflamed vessels by the lancet, he did
not even wink. That is, when the sense of vision, through the
optic nerve, gave notice of danger to the organ, the patient
winked to avoid it ; but the sense of touch being lost, there was
no pain felt, nor alarm given by the sensitive nerve, and the
action of winking was not excited to defend the organ.
I shall present another instance of the peculiar nature of the
sensibility which protects the eye. Every one knows that if
the eye be touched by a thing of the lightness of a feather, the
muscles will be thrown into uncontrollable action and spasm.
But the oculist has observed that if he pass the point of his
finger somewhat rudely between the eyelids, and press directly
against the eye, he will produce hardly any sensation — certainly
no pain — and he can hold the ball steady for his intended opera
tion ! This is one of the little secrets of the art. The oculist
can turn out the eyelids, and finger the eye in a manner which
appears at once rude and masterly : and still the wonder grows
that he can do such things dexterously, and without inflicting
pain, when daily experience makes us feel that even a grain of
sand will produce exquisite torture. The explanation is, that
the eye and eyelids possess a sensibility adjusted to excite the
action of its protecting parts against the intrusion of such small
particles as might lodge, and inflame its finer membranes : but
the apparatus is not calculated to defend the surface against the
injury of a stick or stone. From such accidents the eye could
not be saved by a delicate sensibility and an involuntary action;
they call for an exertion of the will.
These details afford new proofs of the exact relation established
between the kind of sensibility belonging to an organ, and the
end to be attained through it. Were it not for the pain to which
the eye is exposed, we should soon lose the enjoyment of the
sense of vision altogether. But we are about to institute a
comparison between the eye and the heart.
* They are stated at length in the Author's work on the Nervous Sys
tem.— (S.) I

130 SENSIBILITY OF THE HEART. Chap. VII.
The observation of the admirable Harvey, the discoverer of
the circulation of the blood, is to this effect. A noble youth of
the family of Montgomery, from a fall, and consequent abscess
on the side of the chest, had the interior marvellously exposed;
so that after his cure, on his return from his travels, the heart
and lungs were visible, and could be handled : which when it
was communicated to Charles I, he expressed a desire that
Harvey should be permitted to see the youth, and examine his
heart. " When," says Harvey, " I had paid my respects to this
young nobleman, and conveyed to him the King's request, he
made no concealment, but exposed the left side of his breast,
when I saw a cavity into which I could introduce my fingers
and thumb; astonished with the novelty, again and again I
explored the wound, and first marvelling at the extraordinary
nature of the cure, I set about the examination of the heart.
Taking it in one hand, and placing the finger of the other on
the pulse of the wrist, I satisfied myself that it was indeed the
heart which I grasped, I then brought him to the King, that
he might behold and touch so extraordinary a thing, and that
he might perceive, as I did, that unless when we touched the
outer skin, or when he saw our fingers in the cavity, this young
nobleman knew not that we touched the heart."
Other observations confirm this great authority, and the
heart is declared insensible. And yet the opinions of mankind
must not be lightly called in question. Not only does every
emotion of the mind affect the heart, but every change in the
condition of the body — motion during health — the influence
of disease — is attended with a response in the action of the
heart. Here is the distinction manifested, to which we desire the
reader's attention. The sensibility of the surface of the eye is
for a purpose ; so is that of the heart. Whilst the sensibility of
the eye guards it against injury from without, the heart, insen
sible to touch, is yet alive to every variation in the circulation,
to every alteration of posture, or of exertion, and is in sympathy,
of the strictest kind, with the constitutional powers.
When we consider these facts, we can no longer doubt that
the sensibilities of the living frame are appropriate endowments;
not qualities necessarily arising from life ; still less the conse
quences of delicacy of texture. Nor can we, I should hope,

Chap. VII. PAIN NECESSARY TO EXISTENCE. 131
longer doubt that they are suited to the condition, and especially
to the degree of exposure, of each part, and destined for the
protection of the different organs. We perceive that they vary
in an extraordinary manner, according as they are given to
external or to internal parts ; as they belong to one apparatus
of action, or to another ; and they are ever adapted to excite
some salutary or necessary action. We find no instance of pain
being bestowed as a source of suffering or punishment purely,
or without finding it overbalanced by great and essential advan
tages — without, in short, being forced to admit that there could
be no protection more perfect for the part. We perceive that
the more an organ is exposed, or the greater the delicacy of its
organisation — the more exquisitely contrived is the apparatus
for its defence, the more peremptory the call for the activity of
that mechanism : and as in such instances, the motive to action
admits of no thought or hesitation, the action itself is more
instantaneous than the quickest suggestion or impulse of the
will. We are speaking of the natural functions of the body. It
requires a deeper consideration — indeed it is foreign to my sub
ject — to advert to the pains which result from disease ; or to
reconcile those who suffer in an extraordinary degree to the
dispensations of Providence. But as a witness I may speak. It
is my daily duty to visit certain wards of the hospital, where
no patient is admitted but with a complaint that more than any
other fills the imagination with the idea of insufferable pain and
certain death. Yet these wards are not the least remarkable for
the composure and cheerfulness of their inmates. The individual
who suffers has a mysterious counter-balance to that condition,
which, to us who look on, appears attended with no alleviating
circumstance. It affords an instance of the boldness with which philosophers
have questioned the ways of Providence, that they have asked
—why might not all our actions be performed at the sugges
tion of pleasure ? why should we be subject to pain at all ? In
answer, I would say, that consistently with our condition, our
sensations and pleasures, there must be variety in the impres
sions. Such contrast is common to every organ of sense. The
continuance of an impression occasions it to fade. If the eye
look steadfastly upon one object, the image is soon lost— if we

132 PAIN NECESSabV Chap. VII.
continue to look on one colour, we become insensible to it ; and
for a perfect perception, colours opposed to each other are
necessary.* So have we seen that in the sensibilities of the
skin, variety is required to render the sensations perfect.
It is difficult to say what these philosophers would define as
pleasure. But whatever exercise of the senses it may be, unless
we are to suppose an entire change of our nature, its opposite
must also be implied. Nay, further, in this fanciful condition
of existence did anything of our present constitution prevail, we
must suppose, that emotions purely of pleasure would lead to
indolence, relaxation, and indifference. In the lower creatures,
governed by instinct, there may be, for aught we know, some
such condition of existence. But the complexity and delicacy
of the human frame are necessary for sustaining those powers
or attributes which are in correspondence with superior intelli
gence; since they are not in relation to the mind alone, but
intermediate between it and the external material world. Grant
that vision is necessary to the development of thought, the organ
of it must be formed with relation to light. Speech, so necessary
to the development of the reasoning faculties, implies a com
plex and exceedingly delicate organ, to play on the atmosphere
around us. It is not to the mind that the various organisations
are wanted; but to its condition as related to a material world.
The necessity for this delicacy of the animal structure being
admitted, the textures must be preserved by modifications of
sensibility, which shall either excite the parts to instinctive
efforts, or rouse us to instantaneous voluntary activity. Could
the eye guard itself, unless it possessed sensibility greater than
the skin; or unless this sensibility were in consent with an
apparatus which acts as quickly as thought? Could we, by
the mere influence of pleasure, or by any cessation or variation
of pleasurable feelings, be kept alive to those injuries to which
the lungs are exposed from substances being carried into them
with the air we breathe? Would anything but the painful
sense which accompanies the danger of suffocation, produce
those instant and sudden efforts which guard the throat from
the intrusion of offensive or injurious matters ? Pleasure is, at
the best, a poor motive to exertion ; and rather induces languor
and indulgence, and at length indifference. To say that animals
* See Additional Illustrations in the Appendix.

Chap. Vlt. TO EXISTENCE. 133
might be continually in a state of enjoyment, and that when
urged by necessities such as thirst, hunger, and weariness, they
might merely feel a diminution of pleasure, is to suppose not
only their nature, but that of the external world, altered.
Whilst earth, rocks, woods, and water are the theatre of our ex
istence, the textures of our bodies must be exposed to injuries :
and they can only be protected from them by sensibilities
adapted to each part, and capable of rousing us to the most
animated exertions. To leave us to the guidance of the solici
tations of pleasure, would be to place us where accident would
befall us at every step ; and whether these injuries were felt or
not, they would be destructive to life.
In short, to suppose that we might move and act without ex
perience of resistance or of pain, that there should be nothing
to bruise the skin, or hurt the eye, and nothing noxious to be
inhaled with the breath, would be to imagine another state of
existence altogether from the present ; and the theorist would
be mortified were that interpretation put on his meaning.
Pain is the necessary contrast to pleasure : it ushers us into
existence, and is the first to give us consciousness : it alone is
capable of exciting the organs into activity : it is the companion
and the guardian of human life. H all were smooth in our
path, if there were neither rugged places nor accidental opposi
tion, whence should we derive those affections of our minds
which we call enterprise, fortitude, and patience ?
Independently of pain, which protects us more powerfully
than a shield, there is inherent in us, and for a similar purpose,
an innate horror of death. "And what thinkest thou," said
Socrates to Aristodemus, "of this continual love of life, this
dread of dissolution, which takes possession of us from the
moment we are conscious of existence ? " "I think of it," an
swered he, " as the means employed by the same great and wise
artist, deliberately determined, to preserve what he has made."
The reader will, no doubt, observe here the distinction. We
have experience of pain from injuries, and we learn to avoid
them. But we can have no experience of death. There
fore the Author of our being has implanted in us an innate
horror at dissolution ; and we may see the same principle ex
tending through all animated nature. Where it is possible to
be taught by experience, we are left to profit by it ; but where

134 PAIN NECESSARY TO EXISTENCE. Chap. VII.
we can have none, feelings are engendered without it. And this
is all that was necessary to show how the fife is guarded ; some
times it is by mechanical strength, as in the skull ; sometimes
by acute sensation, as in the skin and in the eye ; sometimes by
innate affections of the mind, as in the horror of death : and
these will prevail, as the voice of nature, when we can no longer
profit by experience.
The highest proof of benevolence is this : that we possess the
chiefest source of happiness in ourselves. Every creature has
pleasure in the mere exercise of his body, as well as in the lan
guor and repose that follow exertion. But these conditions are
so balanced, that we are impelled to change ; and every change
is an additional source of enjoyment. What is apparent in the
body is true of the mind also. The great source of happiness is
to be found in the exercise of talents ; and perhaps the greatest
of all is when the ingenuity of the mind is exercised in the dex
terous employment of the hands. Idle men do not know what
is meant here ; but nature has implanted in us this stimulus to
exertion ; so that the ingenious artist who invents, or with his
hands creates, enjoys a source of delight, perhaps greater, cer
tainly more uninterrupted, than belongs to the possession of
higher intellectual powers ; far at least beyond what falls to the
lot of the mere minion of fortune.

CHAPTER VIIL
OE THE SENSES GENERALLY, INTRODUCTORY TO THE
SENSE OF TOUCH.
Although we are most familiar with the sensibility of the skin,
and believe that we perfectly understand the nature and mode
of conveyance of the impressions received upon it to the senso-
rium, yet there is a difficulty in comprehending the operations
of the other organs of the senses — a difficulty not removed by
the apparent simplicity of that of touch.
There was a time when the inquirer was satisfied by finding
in the ear a little drum, and a bone to play upon it, with an
accompanying nerve ; this was deemed a sufficient explanation
of the organ of hearing. It was thought equally satisfactory if,
in experimenting upon the eye, the image of the object were
seen painted at the bottom, on the surface of the nerve. But
although the impression can be thus traced to the extremity of
the nerve, still nothing is comprehended of the nature of that
impression, or of the manner in which it is transmitted to the
sensorium. On the most minute examination of the nerves, in
all their course, and where they are expanded in the external
organs of the senses, they seem to be the same in substance and
in structure, whatever be their function. Whether the disturb
ance of the extremity of the nerve that gives rise to the sensa
tion, be a vibration, or an image painted upon the surface, it
cannot, in either case, be transmitted to the brain according to
any physical laws that we are acquainted with. All that we can
say is, that the different affections of the nerves of the outward
senses, are the signals which the Author of nature has willed
to be the means by which correspondence is held with the
realities. The impression on the nerve can have no more resem
blance to the ideas suggested in the mind, than there is between
the sound and the conception, in the mind of that man who,
looking out on a dark and stormy sea, hears the report of can-

136 ORIGIN OF IDEAS. Chap. VIII.
non, which conveys to him ideas of despair and shipwreck — or
between the light received into the eye, and the idea excited in
one who, apprehending national convulsion, sees a column of
flame afar off, which to him is the signal of actual revolt.
Such illustrations, it may be said, rather tend to show how
independent the mind is of the organs of the senses. That a
tumult of ideas should arise from an impression on the retina,
not more intense than that produced by a burning taper, may
be regarded as an instance of excited imagination. But even in
a common act of perception, the determined relations between
the sensation and the idea in the mind have no more actual
resemblance. How this consent, so precise and constant, is
established, can neither be explained by physiology nor any
mode of physical inquiry whatever.
From this law of our nature, that certain perceptions originate
in the mind in consequence of the impressions on corresponding
nerves, it follows, that one organ of sense can never become the
substitute for another, so as to excite the same ideas. When an
individual is deprived of the organs of sight, no power of atten
tion, or continued effort of the will, or exercise of the other
senses, can enable him to enjoy the class of sensations which is
lost. The sense of touch may have its delicacy increased in an
exquisite degree ; but if it be true, as has been asserted, that in
dividuals can distinguish colours by touch, it can only be by
their feeling a change upon the surface of the stuff, and not by
any perception of the colour. It has been my painful duty to
attend on persons who have feigned blindness, and pretended
that they could see with their fingers : but I have ever found
that these first deviations from truth entangled them in a tissue
of deceit ; and they have at last been forced into admissions
which showed their folly and weak inventions. When such
patients were affected with nervous disorders, producing extra
ordinary sensibility in their organs,— as a power of hearing much
beyond our common experience, — they became objects of pity ;
this acuteness of sensibility, from its exciting interest and
wonder, has gradually led these morbidly-affected persons to
pretend to powers greater than they actually possessed ; and it
has been difficult to distinguish the symptoms of disease, from
the supposed gifts of which they boasted.
Experiment proves, as we have already stated, that each organ

Chap. VIII. ORIGIN OF IDEAS. 137
of sense is appropriated to receive a particular kind of sensation
only ; and that the nerves intermediate between the brain and
the outward organs respectively, are capable of receiving no
other sensations but such as are proper to their particular
organs. Every impression on the nerve of the eye, or of the
ear, or of smelling, or of taste, excites only perceptions of vision,
of hearing, of smelling, or of taste ; not simply because the ex
tremities of these nerves individually are suited to one kind of
external impression ; but because the nerves, through their whole
course, and wherever they are affected, are capable of communi
cating the idea to which they are appropriated, and no other.
A blow on the head, an impulse quite unlike that for which the
organs of the senses are provided, will excite them all in their
several ways ; besides the pain, there will be sparks of fire in the
eyes, and a loud noise in the ears. An officer received a musket-
ball which went through the bones of his face — in describing
his sensations, he said that he felt as if there had been a flash of
lightning, accompanied with a sound like the shutting of the
door of St Paul's.
It is owing to the circumstance of every nerve being appro
priated to its function, that the false sensations which accom
pany the morbid irritation of the nerves from internal causes,
are produced — such as flashes of light, ringing of the ears, bitter
tastes, or offensive smells. These sensations are caused by de
rangement of some internal organ, most frequently the stomach,
exciting the respective nerves of sense.
Nothing affords a more perfect proof of power and design,
than the eorifidence all men put in the correspondence between
the perceptions or ideas that arise in the mind, through the ex
ercise of the organs of the senses, and the qualities of external
matter. Although it must ever be beyond our comprehension,
how the object presented to the outward sense and the idea of
it are connected, they are, nevertheless, indissolubly united; so
that the knowledge of the object, gained by these unknown
means, is attended with an absolute conviction of the real exist
ence of the object — a conviction independent of reason, and to
be regarded as a first law of our nature.
In the percipient or sentient principle residing in the brain
and nerves, as well as in the organs of sense, there must be a
conformity to the impression, and a correspondence with the

138 SENSE OF TOUCH. Chap. VIII.
qualities of matter. The organs of sense may be compared to
so many instruments, or tests, which the philosopher succes
sively employs for distinguishing the different properties of a
body which he investigates : as all the qualities are not commu
nicable through any one, he has recourse to several : and so in
the use of the senses, each organ is provided for receiving a par
ticular impression, and no other. However mortifying it may
be to acknowledge that we know nothing of the manner in
which sensation is propagated, or the mind ultimately influ
enced, it is nevertheless pleasing to observe the correspondence
established, through a series of organic parts, between the mind
and the condition or qualities of matter in the external world.
Nothing can convey a more sublime idea of Power ; and of the
unity of the system which embraces the organic and the inor
ganic creations.
Returning to the consideration of the sensibility of the skin,
or the sense of touch : it is as distinct an endowment as the
sense of vision ; it is neither inferior nor more common. Touch
is not consequent upon the mere exposure of the delicate surface
of the animal body. It is a sense the organ of which is seated
in the skin; and although the organ is necessarily extended
widely over the surface of the body, yet the nerves are as appro
priate as if they were gathered into one trunk, like those belong
ing to the organs of vision and hearing. In fact, we do find
that the portion of nervous matter on which the sensation of
touch depends, however diffused in its sentient extremities over
the whole exterior surface, is concentrated towards the brain,
and is there appropriated to raising its own peculiar perceptions
in the mind.
Perhaps this will be better understood from the fact that a
certain large portion of the skin may be the seat of excruciating
pain, and yet the surface, which to the patient's idea is the seat
of pain, will be altogether insensible to cutting, burning, or any
mode of destruction ! " I have no feeling in all the side of my
face, and it is dead ; yet surely it cannot be dead, since there is
a constant pricking pain in it." Such were the words of a
young woman whose disease was at the root of the nerve of sen
sibility near the brain* The disease had destroyed the power
of the nerve to convey sensation from the exterior ; but by prc-
* See the Author's work on the Nervous System. — (S.)

Chap. VIII. ORGAN OF TOUCH. 139
ducing irritation near its root, it had substituted that morbid
impression, which was referred to the tactile extremities of the
nerve. If we use the term " common sensibility," we can do so only in
reference to touch : since, from being the most necessary of the
senses, it is enjoyed by all animals, from the lowest to the
highest in the chain of existence. Whilst this sense is distinct
from the others, it is the most important of any; for it is
through it alone that some animals possess the consciousness of
existence ; and to those which enjoy many organs of sense, that
of touch, as we shall presently show, is essential to the full de
velopment of the powers with which they are endowed.
of the organ of touch.
Touch is that peculiar sensibility which gives the conscious
ness of the resistance of external matter, and makes us acquaint
ed with the hardness, smoothness, roughness, size, and form, of
bodies. While it enables us to distinguish what is external
from what belongs to us, and informs us of the geometrical
qualities of bodies, we must refer to this sense also our judg
ment of distance, of motion, of number, and of time.
Premising that the sense of touch is exercised by means of a
complex apparatus — by a combination of the consciousness of
the action of the muscles, with the sensibility of the proper
nerves of touch, we shall, in the first place, examine in what
respect the organisation resembles that of the other senses.
We have said before, that, on the most minute examination
of the extremities of the nerves expanded on the different
organs of sense, no appropriate structure can be detected ; that
they appear everywhere the same, — soft, pulpy, prepared for
impression, and so distributed that the impression shall reach
them. What is termed the structure of the organ of sense, is
that apparatus by which the external impression is conveyed
inwards, and by which its force is concentrated on the extremity
of the nerve. The mechanism by which the external organs are
suited to their offices is highly interesting ; from their resem
bling things of human contrivance) they serve to show, in a way
level to our comprehension, the design with which the fabric is
constructed. Thus we can understand how the eye is so seated
and so formed as to embrace the greatest possible field of vision ;

140 ORGAN OF TOUCH. Chap. VIII.
we can estimate the happy effects of the convexity of the trans
parent cornea, and the influence of the three humours, of vari
ous densities, acting like an achromatic telescope ; we can
admire the precision with which the rays of light are concen
trated on the retina, and the beautiful provision for enlarging
or diminishing the pencil of light, in proportion to its intensity.
But all this explains nothing, in respect to the perception raised
in the mind by the impulse on the extremity of the nerve.
In like manner, in the complex apparatus of the ear, we see
how the organ is formed with reference to a double course of
vibrations, — as they come through the atmosphere, and through
the solids of the body itself : we comprehend how the undula
tions and vibrations of the air are collected and concentrated ;
how they are directed, through the intricate passages of the
bone, to a fluid in which the nerve of hearing is suspended ; and
we see how, at last, that nerve is moved. But nothing more
can we comprehend from the study of the external organ of
hearing. The illustration is equally clear as regards the organ of smell
ing or that of taste. There is nothing in the nerve itself, either
of the nose or the tongue, which can explain why it is susceptible
of the particular impression that it receives. For these reasons,
we are prepared to expect very little complexity in the organ of
touch; and to believe that the peculiarity of the sense con
sists more in the property bestowed on the nerve, than in the
mechanical adaptation of the exterior organ.
OF THE CUTICLE.
The cuticle or epidermis covers the true skin, excludes the
air, limits the perspiration, and in some degree regulates the
heat of the body. It is a dead or insensible covering; it
guards from contact the true vascular surface of the skin ; and
in this manner, it often prevents the communication of infec
tion. We are most familiar with it as the scarf skin, which
scales off after fevers, or by the use of the flesh-brush, or by
the friction of the clothes ; for it is continually separating in
minute thin scales, whi'st it> is as regularly formed anew by
the vascular surface below.
The structure of this covering is intimately connected with
the organ of touch. The habit of considering the function of

(Jhap. viil organ or* touch. 141
certain textures as produced accidentally, has induced some
anatomists to believe that the cuticle is formed by the mere
hardening of the true skin. The fact, however, that the cuticle
is perfect in the new-born infant, and that even then it is thick
est on the hands and feet, should have shown that, like every
thing in the animal structure, it participates in the great
design. The cuticle is so far a part of the organ of touch, that it is
the medium through which the external impression is conveyed
to the nerve ; and the manner in which that is accomplished is
not without interest.
The extremities of the fingers best exhibit the provisions for
the exercise of the sense. The nails give support to the tips of
the fingers ; and in order to sustain the elastic cushion which
forms their extremity, they are made broad and shield-like.*
This cushion is an important part of the exterior apparatus;
its fulness and elasticity adapt it admirably for touch. An in
genious gentleman has observed that we cannot feel the pulse
at the wrist with the tongue. That is a remarkable fact ; and
I apprehend that it is owing, not to the insensibility of the
tongue, but to its softness of texture ; the tip of the tongue is
not fitted to receive that peculiar impulse, to which the firm
and elastic pad of the finger is so perfectly suited. Is it not in
teresting to find that, had the organ of touch been formed as
delicately as the tongue, we should have lost one of our inlets
to the knowledge of matter !
But to return : on a nearer inspection, we discover in the
points of the fingers a more particular provision for adapting
them to touch. Wherever the sense of feeling is most exquisite,
there we see minute spiral ridges of the cuticle. These ridges
have corresponding depressions on the inner surface ; and they,
again, give lodgment to soft pulpy processes of the skin, called
papilla?, in which lie the extremities of the sentient nerves.
Thus the nerves are adequately protected, while they are, at the
same time, sufficiently exposed, to have impressions communi
cated to them through the elastic cuticle, and thus to give rise
to the sense of touch. The organisation is simple, yet it is in
strict analogy with the other organs of sense.
Every one must have observed a tendency in the cuticle to
* Unguis scutiformia.

142 ORGAN OF TOUCH. Chap. VIII.
become thickened and stronger by pressure and friction. If the
pressure be partial and severe, the action of the true skin is
too much excited, fluid is thrown out, and the cuticle is raised
in a blister. If it be still partial, but more gradually applied,
a corn is formed. If, however, the general surface of the palms
or soles be exposed to pressure, the cuticle thickens, until it
becomes a defence, like a glove or shoe. Now, what is most
to be admired in this thickening of the cuticle is, that the sense
of touch, is not thereby lost, or indeed much diminished, cer
tainly not in proportion to the increased protection afforded by
it to the skin beneath.
The thickened cuticle partakes of the character of the hoof
of an animal. We may therefore examine the structure of the
hoof of the horse, as the best illustration how the sensibility
of the skin is preserved in due degree, whilst the surface is
completely guarded against injury. The human nail is a con
tinuation of the cuticle, and the hoof of an animal belongs to
the same class of parts as the nail.
In observing how the nerves are disposed with regard to the
hoof, we have, in fact, a magnified view of the structure which
exists, only more minutely and delicately, in the cuticular
covering of the fingers. The crust or hoof is in itself alto
gether insensible : but on separating it from the part which
it covers, we perceive that its inner surface is marked by
numerous grooves or fissures. On the other hand, the surface
with which the hoof is in contact, possesses, during life, a high
degree of vascularity and sensibility; and projecting from it
are small villi,* containing blood-vessels and nerves, which
enter into the fissures of the hoof, where they are securely
lodged. When we detach the hoof from the vascular and
nervous surface, we can see these delicate tufts or villi, as
they are pulled out from the interspaces which they occupied :
and they are not merely extremities of nerves ; they consist
of nerves with the necessary accompaniment of membrane and
blood-vessels, on a very minute scale : for it must be remem
bered that nerves can perform no function unless supplied
with blood, all qualities of life being supported through the
circulating blood. The nerves so prolonged within the villi
* Villi, delicate tufts, like the pile of velvet, projecting from tho
Burface of any membrane.

Chap. VIII. ORGAN OF TOUCH. 143
into the hoof, receive the vibrations of that body : and by that
means the horse is sensible to the motion and pressure of its
foot, or to its percussion against the ground ; without which
provision, there would be a certain imperfection in the limb.
In a former part of this treatise, I have shown by what a
curious mechanism the horse's foot is rendered yielding and
elastic, to enable it to bear the shocks to which it is liable.
But owing to the hardness of our made roads, and the defects
of shoeing, the pressure and concussion are too severe and too
incessant not to be attended with injury of the foot : accord
ingly, inflammation follows ; and then the protecting sensibility
is converted into a source of pain ; the horse is " foundered."
There is a remedy for this condition, by dividing the nerve
across before it reaches the foot ; the consequence of which
operation is, that the horse, instead of moving with timid
steps, puts out his feet freely, and the lameness is cured. But
were we to leave the statement thus barely, the fact would be
opposed to the conclusion, that for the perfection of the instru
ment, the mechanical provision and sensibility are equally neces
sary, and require to be associated. It may relieve us from the
difficulty, if we consider that pressure against the sole and
crust is essential to the play of the foot, and to its perfection :
when the foot is inflamed, and the animal does not put it freely
down, it does not bear its weight upon the hoof so as to bring all
the parts into action ; hence contraction is produced, the most
common defect, as we before said, of the horse's hoof. But
when the animal is relieved from its pain by the division of
the nerve, it then uses the foot freely, and use restores all the
natural actions of this fine piece of mechanism.
It is obvious, however, that when the nerve is cut across,
there must be a certain defect ; the horse will have lost his
natural protection, and must now be indebted to the care of
his rider. He will not only have lost the sense of pain to
guard against over-exertion, but the feeling of the contact of
the ground, necessary to his being a safe roadster.
The teeth are endowed with sensation, and in the same
manner as the hoof of the horse. Although neither the sub
stance nor the enamel of the tooth is itself sensible, yet a
branch of the sensitive nerve (the fifth) enters into the cavity
of each tooth ; a vibration can thus be communicated through

144 ORGAN OF TOWtf. Chap. VI IL
the tooth to the nerve ; and the smallest grain between the
teeth is easily felt.
To return to the human hand. If a man use the fore-hammer,
the cuticle of his fingers and palm will become thickened in a
remarkable manner ; but the grooves on the inner surface be
come also deeper, and the papillae, projecting into them, longer;
the consequence of which is, that owing to the cuticle retaining
its aptitude to convey impressions to the included nerves,
he continues to possess the sense of touch in a very useful
degree. In the foot of the ostrich* we may behold a magnified view
of the cuticle, with processes disposed like the thickset hairs of
a brush, each process enclosing a papilla, into which the length
ened nerves are prolonged. The outer skin of the foot, in this
"runner," almost equals in thickness the hoof of the horse. In
separating it from the skin, the papillae, containing within
them the nerves, are withdrawn from each of the processes of
cuticle, and leave corresponding foramina or pores. If the
object had been merely to protect the foot by an insensible
covering, it would have sufficed to invest the sole with a suc
cession of dead layers of cuticle ; and that would have been the
case had the scarf skin been simply thickened by pressure ; but
the structure is adapted in all respects to the habits of the bird :
besides having adequate callosity, it is endowed with sensation
proportioned to its wants.
Such, then, is the structure of the organ of touch : obvious in
the extremities of the fingers ; magnified in the foot of the
horse, or of the ostrich ; and existing even in the delicate skin
of the lips.
I have casually noticed that increased vascularity, as being
necessary to sensibility, always accompanies the distribution of
nerves to a part. In the museum of the College of Surgeons,
we see that Mr. Hunter had taken pains to demonstrate this, by
injecting the blood-vessels of a slug; although the coloured
size was injected from the heart, the blush of the vermilion ex
tends principally over its " foot ;" the foot, in these gasteropoda,
being the whole lower flat surface or belly on which the animal
creeps. This vascular surface is also the organ of touch, by
* See engravings, pp. 66, 87.

Chap. VIII. ORGAN OF TOUCH. 145
which the slug feels and directs its motions. It is the same
principle, if we may compare such things, that explains the
rosy-tipped fingers and ruby lips; the colour implies that
high vascularity is combined with the fine sensibility of these
parts. Having described the relation of the cuticle to the nerves in
the organ of touch, we may notice the advantages which accrue
from the roughness of its surface. We must be sensible that on
touching a finely polished object, the sense is but imperfectly
exercised, compared with touching or grasping a rough and
irregular body. Had the cuticle been perfectly smooth, it
would have been ill suited to touch; but being, on the con
trary, slightly rough, its quality is more adapted to convey
sensation. A provision for increasing friction is especially necessary, in
some parts of the skin. Thus, the roughness of the cuticle in
the palm of the hand, and in the sole of the foot, gives us a
firmer grasp and a steadier footing : nothing is so little apt to
slip, as the thickened scarf-skin, either of the hand or foot. In
the hoofs of animals, as might be expected, roughness and tena
city in the structure are further developed. It is owing to this
quality that the chamois, ibex, or goat, steps securely at great
heights on the narrow ledges of rocks, where it would seem im
possible to cling. So in the pads or cushions of the cat, the
cuticle is rough and granular ; and in the foot of the squirrel,
indeed of all animals which climb, we find the pads covered
with the cuticle, similarly roughened, allowing them to descend
the bole of the tree securely, while their claws enable them to
grasp and cling to the branches.
In concluding this section, we perceive that the organ of
touch consists of nerves, appropriated to receive impressions^ of
contact from bodies capable of offering resistance. Fine fila
ments of sensitive nerves, wrapped up in delicate membrane,
with their accompanying arteries and veins, project from the
true skin into papillae on the surface, and these again are lodged
in corresponding grooves or foramina of the cuticle. The fila
ments are not absolutely in contact with the cuticle, but are
surrounded with a semi-fluid matter ; by which and the cuticle
the nerves are protected, at the same time that they are sensible
K

146

ORGAN OF TOUCH.

Chap. VIII.

to pressure, cutting, pricking, and heat. But this capacity, we
repeat, is not owing, strictly speaking, to anything in the struc
ture of the organ ; it is to the appropriation of the nerve to this
class of sensations.

CHAPTER IX.
OE THE MUSCULAR SENSE.
A notion prevails that although the young of the lower animals
are directed by instinct, there is an exception in regard to the
human offspring. It is believed that in the child we may trace
the gradual dawn and progressive improvement of reason, inde
pendently of instinct. That is not true. We doubt whether
the actions of the body, if not first instinctive, or directed by
sensibilities which are innate, would ever be exercised under
the influence of reason alone.
The sensibilities and motions of the lips and tongue are per
fect in the young infant from the beginning. The dread of fall
ing is shewn by the infant long before it could have experience
of violence of any kind.
The hand, destined to become the instrument for perfecting
the other senses, and for developing the endowments of the mind
itself, is, in the infant, absolutely powerless. Pain is poeti
cally figured as the power into whose " iron grasp " we are con
signed when introduced to a material world. Now, although the
infant is capable of expressing pain in a manner not to be mis
understood, yet it is unconscious of the part of the body which
is injured. There occur certain congenital imperfections which
require surgical assistance in early childhood ; but the infant
will make no direct effort with its hand to repel the instrument,
or disturb the dressing, as it will do at a period somewhat later.
The lips and tongue are the parts first exercised by the child;
the next motion is to put its hand to the mouth, to suck it :
and, as soon as the fingers are capable of grasping, whatever
they hold is carried to the mouth. Hence the sensibility to
touch and power of action in the lips and tongue, are the first
inlets to knowledge. The use of the hand is a later acquirement.
The knowledge of external objects cannot be acquired, until
the organ of touch has become familiar with our own body.
We cannot be supposed capable of judging of the form or tan-

148 OF THE MUSCULAR SENSE. Chap. IX.
gible qualities of anything in contact with the skin, or of
exploring it by the motion of the hand, before having the
consciousness of our own body, as distinguished from things
external. The first office of the hand, then, is to exercise the sensibility
of the niouth : and the infant as certainly questions the reality
of things by that test, as does the dog by its acute sense of
smelling. In the infant, the sense of the lips and tongue is re
signed in favour of that of vision only when the exercise of the
eye has improved, and offers greater attraction. The hand very
slowly acquires the sense of touch ; and many ineffectual efforts
may be observed in the arms and fingers of the child, before it
can estimate the direction or distance of objects. Gradually
the length of the arm, and the extent of its motions, become
the measure of distance, of form, of relation, and perhaps of
time. Next in importance to the sensibility of the mouth, we may
consider that sense which is early exhibited in the infant; — the
terror of falling. The nurse will tell us that the infant lies
composed in her arms, while she carries it up stairs ; but that
it is agitated when she carries it down. If an infant be laid
upon the arms and dandled up and down, its body and limbs
will be at rest as it is raised ; but in descending, it will struggle
and make efforts. Here is the indication of a sense, an innate
feeling, of danger ; and we may perceive its influence, when the
child first attempts to stand or run. When set upon its feet,
the nurse's arms forming a hoop around it, without touching it,
the child slowly learns to balance itself and stand, but under a
considerable apprehension ; it will only try to stand at such a
distance from the nurse's knee, that if it should fall, it can throw
itself for protection into her lap. In these, its first attempts to
use its muscular frame, it is directed by a fear which cannot as
yet be attributed to experience. By degrees it acquires the
knowledge of the measure of its arm, the relative distance to
which it can reach, and the power of its muscles. Children are,
therefore, cowardly by instinct : they show an apprehension of
falling ; and we may trace the gradual efforts which they make,
under the guidance of this sense of danger, to perfect the mus-
cidar sense. We thus perceive how instinct and reason are
combined in early infancy; i<qw necessary the first is to exist-

Chap. IX. dp THE MUSCULAR SENSE. 149
ence : how it soon becomes subservient to reason : and how it
eventually yields to the progress of reason, until obscured so
much, that we can hardly discern its influence.
When, treating of the senses generally, and showing how one
organ profits by the other, and how each is indebted to that of
touch, I observed, that touch itself is dependent on the exercise
of a distinct property— that without the accompaniment of
muscular action, and a consciousness of effort, this sense could
hardly be an inlet to knowledge at all.
In my lectures, I have always delivered the same views. I
have endeavoured to prove that for the perfect exercise of the
sense of touch, motion of the hand and fingers, and conscious
ness of the action of the muscles in producing such motion,
must be combined with the feeling of contact of the object. To
that consciousness of exertion, I gave the name " muscular
sense ; " calling it a sixth sense. Although I questioned the
correctness of my opinions, when I perceived that none of the
chief authorities in mental philosophy, in treating of the senses,
adverted to the knowledge obtained from the action of the
muscles, yet I can now refer to authors educated to medicine,
who have confirmed my views ; it having occurred to them, as
to me, that the combination of two kinds of sense was required
in the organ of touch.
Those distinctions were connected with my inquiries into the
functions of the Nervous system. It was the conviction that we
are sensible of the action of the muscles which led me to inves
tigate their nerves ; first, by anatomy, and then by experiment.
I was finally enabled to show, that the muscles are provided
with two classes of nerves ; that on exciting one of these, the
muscle contracts ; on exciting the other, no action takes place ;
and that the nerve which has no direct power over the muscle,
is for giving sensation. Thus it was proved, that muscles are
connected with the brain, through a " nervous circle ; " that
one nerve is not capable of transmitting what may be called
nervous influence, in two different directions at once ; in other
words, that a nerve cannot carry volition to the muscles, and
sensation towards the brain, simultaneously and by itself : but
that, for the regulation of muscular action, two distinct nerves
are required ; first, a nerve of sensibility to convey a conscious
ness of the condition of the muscles to the sensorium; and

150 OF THE MUSCULAR SENSE. Chap. IX.
secondly, a nerve of motion for conveying a mandate of the will
to the muscles.
In their distribution through the body, the nervous fibrils
which possess these two distinct powers, of conferring sensation,
and of exciting the muscles to contraction, are wrapped up, or
woven together in the same sheath, and present the appearance
of a single nerve : but by examining them where they arise from
the brain or spinal marrow, they are found to come off from dif
ferent tracts, by two distinct " roots ; " and the fibrils of these
roots soon coalesce, to form what, in reality, are compound
nerves, although they appear simple. By anatomical reasoning
and experiment I succeeded in demonstrating that one of these
roots, with its prolonged fibrils in the nerve, is for bestowing
motive power on the muscles ; and that the other root, with
its prolonged fibrils, is for conferring sensation.*
The Abbg Nollet, after extolling the sense of touch as supe
rior to all the rest, and deserving to be considered the genus,
under which the others should be included as subordinate species,
makes this remark — " Besides, it has this advantage over them,
to be at the same time both active and passive : for it not only
puts it in our power to judge of what makes an impression
upon us, but likewise of what resists our impulsions." The
mistake here is the same as that to which I have already re
ferred ; where it was alleged that the peculiarity of the sense of
touch consisted in there being an effort propagated towards it,
as well as a sensation received from it. The confusion is obvi
ously from considering the muscular action directed by the will
in the exercise of touch, as belonging to the nerve of touch pro
perly. I proceed to show how the sense of motion and that of
contact are necessarily combined.
When a blind man, or a man blindfolded, stands upright,
neither leaning upon, nor touching aught ; by what means does
he maintain the erect position ? The symmetry of his body is
not the cause. A statue of the finest proportion must be sol
dered to its pedestal, else the wind will cast it down. How is
it, then, that a man sustains the perpendicular posture, or in
clines in due degree towards the wind that blows upon him ?
It is obvious that he has a sense by which he knows the inclina-
* See the Account of the Author's I at the commencement of the volume.
Discoveries in the Nervous System, [ — (S.)

Chap. IX. OF THE MUSCULAR SENSE. 151
tion of his body ; and that he has a ready aptitude to adjust
the parts of it, so as to correct any deviation from the perpen
dicular. What sense is this? he touches nothing and sees
nothing; there is no organ of sense hitherto observed which
can aid him. Is it not that sense which we have seen exhibited
so early in the infant, in the fear of falling ; and which caused
its struggles, while it yet lay in the nurse's arms 1 It can only
be by the adjustment of muscles, that the limbs are stiffened,
the body firmly balanced, and kept erect ; and there is no other
source of knowledge but a sense of the degree of exertion in his
muscular frame, by which a man can become conscious of the
position of his body, and action of his limbs, while he has no
point of vision, or the contact of any external body to direct his
efforts. In truth, we stand by so fine an exercise of this power,
and the muscles, from habit, are directed with so much pre
cision, and with an effort so slight, that we do not know how
we stand. But if we attempt to walk on a narrow ledge, or
rest in a situation where we are in danger of falling, or bal
ance on one foot, we become subject to apprehension : and the
actions of the muscles are then, as it were, magnified, and de
monstrative of the degree in which they are excited.
Although we touch nothing and see nothing, yet we are
sensible of the position of our limbs ; that the arms hang by
the sides, or that they are raised and held out. And it must
be by a property internal to the frame, that we know this. At
one time I entertained a doubt whether this knowledge pro
ceeded from a sense of the condition of the muscles, or from a
consciousness of the degree of effort which had been directed to
them in volition. But I reasoned in this manner, — we awake
with the knowledge of the position of our limbs : this cannot
be from a recollection of the action which placed them where
they are ; it must therefore be a consciousness of their present
condition. When a person just after awaking moves his body,
it is with a determined object; and before he can desire a
change or direct a movement, he must be conscious of a previous
condition. After a limb has been removed by the surgeon, the person
still feels pain, and heat, and cold, as if present in the limb.
Urging a patient who had lost his leg, to move it, I have seen
him catch at the limb, to guard it, forgetting that it was re-

152

OF THE MUSCULAR SENSE.

Chap. IX,

moved. Long after his loss, he experiences a sensation not
only as if the limb remained, but as if it were placed or hanging
in a particular position or posture. I have asked a patient-^
'Where do you feel your arm now ? " and he has said, "I feel
it as if it lay across my breast," or that it is "lying by my
side." It seems also to change with the change of posture of
the body. These are additional proofs of a muscular sense ;
that there is an internal sensibility corresponding to the chang
ing condition of the muscles ; and that as the sensations of an
organ of sense remain, after the destruction of the outward
organ, so a deceptious sensibility to the condition of the muscles,
as well as to the condition of the skin, will be felt after the
removal of a limb.
By such arguments, I have been in the habit of showing that
we possess a muscular sense ; and that without a perception of
the condition of the muscles previous to the exercise of the will,
we could not command them in standing, far less in walking,
leaping, or running. And as for the hand, it is not more the
freedom of its action which constitutes its perfection, than the
knowledge which we have of these motions, and our consequent
ability to direct it with the utmost precision.*
The necessity for the combination of two distinct properties
of the nervous system in the sense of touch, becomes more
obvious if we examine their operation in other, but analogous
organs ; for example, in the palpi or tentacula of the lower
animals. These instruments consist of a rigid tube, containing
a pulpy matter, in which there is a branch of a nerve that pos
sesses, in an exquisite degree, the sense of touch; and the
animals use them for groping their way. When the tentacu-
lum touches a body, and the vibration runs along the pulp of
the nerve, the animal can be sensible only of an obstruction ;
but how is the creature's progress to be directed to avoid it ?

* When, on his return home from
his wanderings, Ulysses desired to
punish the insolence of the beggar
Irus, by inflicting on him a severe
blow, yet feared lest the well-known
power of his arm, if he put forth its
whole strength, might betray him to
Penelope's suitors, he deliberated on
the amount of force he would em
ploy with his fist —

"Whether to strike him lifeless to the earth
At once, or fell Mm with a measured blow; "
and decided to deal one which would
only fracture the beggar's jaw. It
must have been a fine calculation
that he made, by his muscular sense,
of the exertion of the muscles of the
arm called for, as well as of the di
rection of their action, before he deli
vered the measured blow.

vViP. ItX. OP THE MUSCULAR SEUSl/

153

When we see the instrument moving about and feeling on all
sides, we must acknowledge that it is the sense of the action of
the muscles communicating that motion, which conveys the
knowledge of the place or direction of the obstructing body.
It appears, therefore, that even in the very lowest creatures, the
sense of touch implies the comparison of two distinct senses.
That insects possess the most exquisite organs of sense, must
be allowed : but we do not reflect on the extraordinary accu
racy with which they measure distances in their movements.
This they can only accomplish by an adaptation of the muscu
lar exertion to the sense of vision. The spider, to which I have
already alluded — the aranea scenica — when about to leap, ele
vates itself on its fore-legs, and lifting its head, seems to survey
the spot before it jumps ; if it spy a small gnat or fly on the
wall, it creeps very gently towards it, with short steps, till it
comes within a proper distance, and then springs suddenly
upon it like a tiger. It will jump two feet to seize upon
a bee.* We have a more curious instance of the precision of the eye
and of the adaptation of muscular action, in some of the chee-
todons, as the chelmon rostratus.i This fish inhabits the Indian
rivers, and lives on
the smaller aquatic
flies. If it observe
one of these insects,
alighted on a twig,
or flying near, (for it
can shoot them on
the wing,) it darts
forth a drop of water
from its beak, with
so steady an aim, as
to bring the fly into
the water, when it falls an easy prey. These fishes are kept in
large vases for amusement ; and if a fly be presented on the
end of a twig, they will shoot at it with surprising accuracy.
In its natural state it will hit a fly at the distance of from three
to six inches.
* Kirby. t Chsetodon, a genus of the Acanthopterygii.

i54

OF THE MUSCULAR SENSE.

Chap. IX.

The eeus insidiator* has also the same power of forming its
mouth into a tube, and squirting at flies, so as to encumber
their wings and bring them to the surface of the water. Now,
whether we regard these habits in the lower creatures, as be
stowed by instinct, or look upon similar powers belonging to
ourselves, as acquired properties, we must acknowledge that in
both the operation is compound.t
Some would have us believe that the effect of the impression
of odours on the nerve of smelling, is exactly similar to that
of light on the nerve of vision ; and yet they suppose that the
impression on the retina alone suffices to inform us of the
direction and distance of objects. But of the direction and
distance from which odours come, we are quite ignorant until,
by turning the head, and directing the nostrils this way and
that, we make a comparison, and at length discover on which
side the smell is strongest on the sense.
In insects, the motion of the body is rendered subservient
to smell, as well as to vision. There is nothing in the mere
exercise of the organ of smell that can direct an insect in its
flight : yet, if a piece of carrion be thrown out, flies will
approach it, — not by flying in a direct line to it, but by coming
towards it in circles. So it is with the bees, in a garden, when
attracted to a flower : they may be seen, at first, flying wide,
describing circles in their flight, each circle diminishing as they
come nearer, until at last they alight upon the object. Having
no organ like lungs and thorax to enable them to inhale the
effluvia, they make currents in the air, by their mode of flight,
so as to impress the nerve of smelling : and it is from the sense
of the odour being more acute in one part of the circle, that
the next wheel is made ; and thus they are directed in a line
drawn through these circles, to the flower.
We can judge of the direction from which sounds proceed,
without turning the ear towards them. That is because the
strength of the vibration is unequal on the two sides" of the
head ; and we can readily compare the two impressions, so as
to decide upon the direction. But when a person is deaf in

* Belonging to another genus of
the same section.
t A difficulty will occur to the
reader : since the rays of light are

refracted at the surface of the water,
how does the fish judge of position ?
Does instinct enable it to do so, or is
it experience ?

Chap. IX. OF THE MUSCULAR SENSE. 155
one ear, the comparison is difficult, and he is ofteu mistaken
as to the point from which the sound comes; he has more
frequent occasion to turn the head, and test the position of the
tube of the ear with the strength of the impressions. Accord
ingly, in mixed company, where there are many speakers, a
man in this condition appears positively deaf, from the impos
sibility of distinguishing minutely the direction of sounds.
The last proof of the necessity of the combination of the
muscular sense with the sense of contact will be conclusive.
It is not a solitary instance : — A mother while nursing her
infant was seized with a paralysis, attended with the loss of
muscular power on one side of her body, and the loss of sen
sibility on the other. The surprising, and indeed the alarming
circumstance here was, that she could hold her child to her
bosom with the arm which retained muscular power, only so
long as she looked to the infant. If surrounding objects with
drew her attention from the state of her arm, the flexor muscles
gradually relaxed, and the child was in danger of falling. The
details of the case do not belong to our present inquiry ; but we
see, first, that two distinct properties are possessed by the
nerves of the arm, as evinced by the loss of the one, and con
tinuance of the other ; secondly, that these two properties
exist through different endowments of the nervous system;
and, thirdly, that muscular power is insufficient for the ex
ercise of the limbs, without a sensibility to accompany and
direct it.
Let me offer another example : — Nothing serves better to
make us appreciate the blessings which we enjoy, than examin
ing the organisation of a part which, from its familiarity, and
the absolute perfection of its action, we neglect or think meanly
of. The lips receive the food, and aid in mastication ; they are
a principal part of the organ of speech ; they are expressive of
emotion; they are the most acutely sensible to touch. The
vermilion surfaces of the lips possess their exquisite sensibility
through minute and delicate vilh, into which the extremities of
the sensitive nerve are distributed: and these, being covered
only with a cuticle the most thin and transparent, afford the
ready instrument of touch. Again, a concourse of fine muscles
converges to the lips, and surrounds them ; and these muscles
receive their motor influence from a distinct nerve, coming from

156 OF THE MUSCULAR SENSE. Chap. IX.
a different quarter of the brain from the sensitive. Now, if this
nerve of motion be cut and lose its function, the animal puts
its lips to the grains it feeds upon, but cannot gather them. So
also, if the nerve of sensation be injured, the animal presses its
lips to the food, but wanting the sensibility by which the motion
of the lips should be directed, it does not gather them These
facts show that whilst sensibility and motion depend upon
different nerves, they are necessarily combined for so simple an
act as taking the food into the mouth. As connected with the
subject, it is a strange thing to see a person who has every
capacity for motion in the lips and tongue, letting the morsel
remain in his mouth for hours, without knowing it. The first
instance I found of a defect in the lips exactly similar to that
produced by the experiment of cutting the nerve of sensation
on one side of the face, was in a gentleman who, being under
the hands of his dentist, had the nerve of sensation hurt by the
pulling of a tooth : having a glass of water given to him, he
remarked that the glass was a broken one ! The fact being,
that the portion of the tumbler in contact with one half of his
lips was not felt at all, which gave him the same sensation as if
a bit of the glass had been broken away.
The capacity, therefore, of the hand to ascertain the distance,
size, weight, form, hardness or softness, roughness or smoothness
of objects, results from its having a compound function — from
the sensibility of the proper organ of touch, being combined
with the consciousness of the motion of the arm, hand, and
fingers. But it is the motion of the fingers that is especially necessary
to the sense of touch. These bend, or extend, or expand, or
move in every direction, like palpi, with the advantage of em
bracing the object, feeling it on all its sides, estimating its solidity
or its resistance when grasped, moving round it, and gliding over
its surfaces, so as to feel every asperity, and be sensible of every
slight vibration.
THE PLEASURES AEISLNG FROM THE MUSCULAR SENSE.
As much of the knowledge usually supposed to be obtained
through the organs of the senses, has its source in the exercise
of the muscular frame, so we may trace to it some of our chief
enjoyments. It may, indeed, be affirmed that nature benevo-

Chap. IX. OF THE MUSCULAR SENSE. 157
lently intends that the vigorous circulation of the blood, and
healthful condition both of mind and body, should result from
alternations of muscular exertion and repose. The pleasure
which proceeds from activity, may be partly due to a gratifica
tion naturally arising from the exercise of any kind of power —
as that implied by mere dexterity, or the successful pursuit of
some field sport, or the accomplishment of a work of art, But
independently of such sources of satisfaction, active exercise is
followed by weariness, and a desire for rest ; and although this
condition may not be attended with any describable local plea
sure, yet after fatigue, and whilst the active powers are sinking
into repose, there is diffused through every part of the frame a
feeling almost voluptuous. To this feeling an impatience of rest
succeeds. Thus are we urged to follow the alternations of ac
tivity and of repose necessary to health ; and are invited on from
stage to stage of our existence.
We owe other enjoyments to the muscular sense. In modern
times comparatively little may be thought of the gratifications
arising from motion. Yet we read that the gravest of the
Greeks, even of the Romans, studied elegance in their attitudes
and movements. Their apparel favoured that display of grace,
while their exercises and games contributed to encourage ele
gance of movement. The dances they performed were not ex
hibitions of mere exuberance of spirits and activity. It was
their pride to combine harmony in the motion of the body and
limbs, with majesty of gait; their movements consisted more
of the unfolding of the arms, than of the play of the feet, —
"their arms sublime, that floated on the air." The Pyrrhic
dances were attitudes of combat, or martial movements, per
formed in correct coincidence with the expression of the music.
The spectators, in their theatres, must have had very different
associations from ours, to account for the national enthusiasm
displayed by the influence of their music, and the rage excited
by a mere error in time.
This may remind us that in music the divisions of time
depend in some degree on the muscular sense. A man will
put down his staff in regulated time; and in his common walk,
the sound of his steps will fall into a measure. A boy striking
the railing in mere wantonness, will do it with a regular suc
cession of blows. This tendency of the muscular frame to

158

OF THE MUSCULAR SENSE.

Chap. IX.

move in accordance with time, is the source of much that is
pleasing in music, and assists the effect of melody.
" The hand
Sang with the voice, and this the argument."
The closest connection is thus established between the enjoy
ments of the sense of hearing, and the exercise of the muscu
lar sense.*
The effect of disorders of the nervous system upon the mus
cular frame, is sometimes to show how natural certain combina
tions of actions may be, although morbidly excited The follow
ing is a curious illustration : — A young woman, who could not
be taught to go down a country-dance, suffering under a ner
vous illness, began to execute involuntary movements, not unbe
coming an opera-dancer. At one time she would pace slowly
round the room, with a measured step, the arms carried with
elegance, as in a minuet ; again, she would stand on the toes of
one foot, and beat time with the other ; on some occasions she
would strike the table, or whatever she could reach, with her
hand, many times softly, and then with force ; at length it was
found that she did everything in rhythm. A friend thought
that in her regular beating he could recognise a tune ; and he
began singing it. The moment the sound struck her ears, she
turned suddenly to the man, danced directly up to him, and
continued to dance, until he was quite out of breath. The cure
of this young woman was of a very unusual kind : a drum and
fife were procured, and when a tune corresponding to the
rhythm of her movements was played, in whatever part of the
room she might be, she would dance close up to the drum, and
continue dancing until she missed the step, — when these invo-

* It is probable that we must as
cribe to this the power possessed by
music over the passions, and even
over disease. It is recorded that
the music teacher of Socrates [and
many will be pleased to know that
so sage a man had a music teacher]
seeing one inflamed with wine, in
tent, while the flute was played in
Phrygian measure, on setting fire to
the house, cured him by ordering
the player to change the mode to
the grave and soothing Spondieus!

Galen records instances of the resto
rative influence of music over the
passions and over disease. And it
appears to have been resorted to by
Egyptians, Hebrews, Greeks, and
Romans, both in acute and chronic
disorders. Hence the phrase, "Loca
dolentia incantare."
To learn how much of the pleasure
of the sense of Vision depends on
muscular action, see the "Addi
tional Illustrations" in the Appen
dix.

(,'hap. IX. OP THE MUSCULAR SENSE. 159
luntary motions instantly ceased, and the paroxysm ended.
The physician, profiting by this, and observing a motion in her
lips, put his ear close to her mouth ; he thought he could hear
her sing ; and questioning her, she said there was a tune con
tinually dwelling upon her ear, which at times irresistibly im
pelled her to begin her involuntary dance. In the end, she
was cured by altering the time, in beating the drum ; for, when
ever she missed the time, the influence ceased to have its
effect.* If asked what this extraordinary disease is, we can only
answer that, being an excitable state of the nervous and
muscular systems, it will be called Chorea; but it is an in
stance of a natural combination of muscular actions, morbidly
produced ; just as in hysteria, where the expression of various
natural passions, for example, weeping or laughing, is fre
quently exhibited. * Med. Chir. Trans., vol. vii.

CHAPTER X.

THE ORGAN ADAPTED TO THE INSTINCT.— THE HAND NOT
THE SOURCE OF INGENUITY OR CONTRIVANCE, NOR
CONSEQUENTLY OF MAN'S SUPERIORITY.
Seeing the perfection of the human Hand, both in structure
and endowments, we can hardly be surprised at some philoso
phers entertaining the opinion of Anaxagoras, that the superi
ority of man is owing to his hand. Although the system of
bones, muscles, and nerves belonging to this extremity, is
suited to every form and condition of vertebrated animals, yet
it is in the human hand that we perceive the consummation of
all perfection, as an instrument. This superiority consists in
its combination of strength, with variety, extent, and rapidity
of motion ; in the power of the thumb, and the forms, relations,
and sensibility of the fingers, which adapt it for holding, pull
ing, spinning, weaving, and constructing ; properties which may
be found separately in other animals, but are combined in the
human hand.
In virtue of these provisions, the hand corresponds to the
superior mental capacities with which man is endowed. The
instrument is capable of executing whatever his ingenuity
suggests. Nevertheless, the possession of the ready implement
is not the cause of man's superiority : nor is its aptness for
execution the measure of his attainments. So we rather say,
with Galen, that man has a hand, because he is the wisest of
creatures, than ascribe to his possession of a hand, his superi
ority in knowledge.*
This question has been raised, from observing the perfect
* Ita quidem sapientissimum ani-
malium est homo : ita autem et
manus sunt organa sapienti animali
convenientia. Non enim quia manus
habuit propterea est sapientissimum,
ut Anaxagoras dicebat : sed quia
sapientissimum erat, propter hoc

manus habuit, ut rectissime censuit
Aristoteles. Non enim manus ipsse
homines artes docuerunt, sed ratio.
Manus autem ipsse sunt artium
organa : sicut lyra, musici ; et for
ceps, fabri.

Chap. &. ORGAN ADAPTED TO INSTINCT. 161
correspondence between the propensities of animals, and their
forms and outward organisation. When we see the heron, still
as a grey stone, and hardly distinguishable from it, standing by
the water side, intently watching his prey, we might at first
suppose this was a habit acquired from the use of his stilt-like
limbs, constructed for wading, with his long bill, and flexible
neck ; for the neck and bill are as much suited to its mode of
seizing the fish, as the liester is to the fisherman, in spearing
the salmon. But in the configuration of the black bear, there
is nothing peculiarly adapted for his catching fish ; yet will he
sit, on his hinder extremities, by the side of a stream, morning,
or evening, on the watch, like a practised fisher ; and so per
fectly motionless is he, that he will deceive the eye of the
Indian, who mistakes him for the burnt trunk of a tree ; when
the bear sees his opportunity favourable, he will thrust out his
fore-paw, and with incredible celerity seize a fish. In this
instance, the exterior organ is not the cause of the habit or
of the propensity. Hence if we see the instinct bestowed
without the appropriate organ, may we not in other examples
when the two are conjoined, believe that the habit exists with
the instrument, not through it ?
The canine teeth are not given without a carnivorous appe
tite ; nor is the necessity of living by carnage joined to a timid
disposition ; but boldness and fierceness, as well as cunning,
belong to the animal armed with retractile claws and sharp
teeth, and which preys on the living.* On the other hand, the
propensities of the timid vegetable feeder are not to be attri
buted to his having mobile, erect ears, or prominent eyes;
though his suspiciousness and timidity correspond to these
forms. The boldness of the bison or the buffalo may be as great
as that of the lion ; but the impulse that directs them in their
mode of attack is different : instinct impels them to gore with
their horns. And they will strike with their heads, whether
they have horns or not ; " The young calf will butt against you
before he has horns," says Galen ; or as the Scotch song has it,
"the putting cow is aye a doddy;" that is, the humble cow
(inermis), although wanting horns, is ever the most mischievous.
* In some of the quadrumana, the struments of defence only : they bear
canine teeth are as long and sharp as no relation to the appetite, mode of
those of the tiger— but they are in- digestion, or internal organisation.

1G2 THE ORGAN ADAPTED Chap. X.
When that noble animal, the Brahmin bull, of the Zoological
Gardens, first put his hoof on the sod, and smelt the fresh grass
after his voyage, — placid and easily managed before, he became
excited, plunged, and struck his horns into the earth, ploughing
up the ground on alternate sides, with a very remarkable preci
sion. This was his dangerous play : just as the dog, in his gam
bols, worries and fights ; or the cat, though pleased, puts out
its claws. It would, indeed, be strange, where all else is perfect,
if the instinctive character or disposition of the animal were at
variance with its arms or instruments.
But the idea may still be entertained, that the accidental use
of the organ may conduce to its more frequent exercise, and
thereby to the production of a corresponding disposition. Such
an hypothesis would not explain the facts. The late Sir Joseph
Banks, in his evening conversations, told us that he had seen,
what many perhaps have seen, a chicken catch at a fly, whilst
the shell stuck to its tail. Sir Humphry Davy relates that a
friend of his, having discovered, under the burning sand of
Ceylon, the eggs of an alligator, had the curiosity to break one
of them ; when a young alligator came forth, perfect in its mo
tions and in its passions; for although hatched in the sand
under the influence of the sunbeams, it made towards the water,
its proper element : when hindered, it assumed a threatening
aspect, and bit the stick presented to it. We may therefore
conclude, that as animals have propensities implanted in them
to perform certain motions to which their external organs are
subservient, so their passions or dispositions are given as the
means of directing them how to defend themselves, or obtain
their food.
But this has been well said seventeen hundred years ago.
" Take," says Galen, " three eggs, one of an eagle, another of a
goose, and a third of a viper : and place them favourably for
hatching. When the shells are broken, the eaglet and the gos
ling will attempt to fly ; while the young of the viper will coil
and twist along the ground. If the experiment be protracted
to a later period, the eagle will soar to the highest regions of the
air, the goose betake itself to the marshy pool, and the viper
will bury itself in the ground."
We have daily before us proofs nf ingenuity in the arts not
only surviving the loss of the hand, but excited and exercised,

Chap. X. TO THE INSTINCT. 163
where the hands were wanting from birth. What is more sur
prising than to see the feet, in individuals under such circum
stances, becoming substitutes for the hands, and working minute
and curious things? Unfortunately too, the most diabolical
passions will be developed in some natures, and crimes com
mitted which we might have supposed impossible from the
power of execution being denied. The most remarkable instance
of that was in a man, who from birth was deprived of arms ;
like the unfortunate youth described in the early part of the
volume. As if possessed by a devil, this wretch had committed
many murders before being discovered and executed ; he was a
beggar, who took his stand in the highway some miles from
Moscow, on the skirts of a wood : his manner was to throw his
head against the stomach of the person who was in the act of
giving him charity, and having stunned him, to seize him with
his teeth, and so drag him into the wood !
But to turn to a more agreeable topic. The possession of an
instrument like the hand, implies that a great part of the organ
isation which strictly belongs to it, must be concealed. The
hand is not a thing appended, or put on, to the body, like an
additional movement in a watch ; but a thousand intricate rela
tions must be established throughout the whole frame, in con
nection with it : not only must appropriate nerves of motion
and of sensation, and a part of the brain having correspondence
to these nerves, be supplied, but unless, with all this superadded
organisation, a propensity to put it into operation were created,
the hand would lie inactive.
Voltaire has said, that Newton, with all his science, knew not
how his arm moved; so true is it that all such studies have
their limits ! But, as he acknowledges, a wide difference exists
between the ignorance of the child or peasant, and the con
sciousness of the philosopher that he has arrived at a point of
knowledge beyond which man's faculties do not carry him.
Nevertheless, is it nothing to have our minds awakened to
the perception of the numerous proofs of design which present
themselves in the study of the Hand— to be brought to the con
viction that everything in its structure is orderly and systematic,
and that the most perfect mechanism, the most minute and
curious apparatus, and sensibilities the most delicate and appro
priate, are all combined in operation that we may move the

164 TOR SPEECH, MORE REQUIRED Chap. X.
hand 1 What the first impulse to motion is, or how the mind
is related to the body, we know not ; yet it is important to
learn with what extraordinary contrivance, and perfection of
workmanship, the bodily apparatus is placed between that
internal faculty which impels us to use it, and the exterior
world. I have been asked, and that by men of the first education and
talents, whether in the organs of voice of the orang-outang any
thing really deficient had been discovered to prevent him from
speaking. The reader will give me leave to place the matter
correctly before him. In speaking, there is, first, a certain force
¦of expired air, or an action of the whole muscles of respiration
required ; in the second place, the vocal chords at the top of the
wind-pipe must be drawn by their muscles into accordance, else
no vibration will take place, and no sound issue ; thirdly, the
open passages of the throat must be expanded, contracted, or
extended, by th'eir numerous muscles, in correspondence with
the condition of the vocal chords ; and these must all sympathise,
before even a simple sound will be produced. But to articulate
that sound, so that it may become part of a conventional lan
guage, there must be added actions of the pharynx, of the
palate, of the tongue, and of the lips. The exquisite organisa
tion for all this, is not visible in the organs of the voice, as they
are called : it is to be found in the nerves, which combine these
various parts in one simultaneous act. The meshes of a spider's
web, or cordage of a man-of-war, are few and simple, compared
with the concealed filaments of nerves which move these parts ;
and if but one of them be wanting, or its tone or action dis
turbed in the slightest degree, everybody knows how a man
will stand with his mouth open, twisting his tongue and lips in
vain attempts to utter a word.
It will now appear that there must be distinct lines of
association, suited to the organs of voice : different to combine
them in the bark of a dog, in the neighing of a horse, or in the
shrill whistle of the ape. That wide distinctions exist in the
structure of the vocal organs in different classes of animals, is
most certain ; but independently of those which are apparent,
there are secret and minute varieties in the associating nervous
cords. The ape, therefore, does not articulate — first, because
the organs are not perfect to that end ; secondly, because the

Chap. X. THAN ORGANISATION. 165
nerves do not associate the different parts of the organ in that
harmony of action which is necessary to speech ; and, lastly,
were all the exterior apparatus perfect, there is no impulse to
the act of speaking.
From this enumeration of parts it will appear that the main
difference lies in the internal faculty or propensity. As soon
as a child can distinguish and admire, then are its features in
action ; its voice begins to be modified into a variety of sounds ;
these are taken up and repeated by the nurse, and already a
sort of convention is established between them. The perfect
correspondence between the vocal instrument, and the laws
governing the motions of the air, is a contrivance ; but that
which prompts to the first efforts at articulation, is in our
intellectual nature. We cannot, therefore, doubt that a pro
pensity is created in correspondence with the outward organs,
and without which these outward organs would be useless
appendages. The aptness of the instrument and its exercise
will undoubtedly improve the faculty — just as we find that
giving freedom to the expression of passion, adds force to the
emotion in the mind.
One cannot but reflect here on that grand revolution which
took place when language, till then limited to its proper organ,
had its representation in the work of the Hand. Now that a
man of mean estate may possess a library of more intrinsic
value than that of Cicero, when the sentiments of past ages
may be as familiar to him as those of the present, and when
the knowledge of different empires is transmitted and common
to all, we cannot expect our sages to be followed, as of old, by
their five thousand scholars. Nations will not now record
public acts by building pyramids, consecrating temples, or
raising statues, once the only means of perpetuating great
deeds or extraordinary virtues. It is in vain that our artists
complain of patronage being withheld. The ingenuity of the
Hand has at length subdued the arts of design. Printing has
made all other records barbarous; and great men build for
themselves a " livelong monument."
On this, as upon many other occasions, it may be urged that
a further multiplication of evidences in favour of natural reli
gion is unnecessary; it may be said that we only vary the
instances, without making the proofs stronger. For example,

166 EXPRESSION IN THE HAND. Chap. X.
as to speech, no higher argument can be sought for to prove
the perfection of design, than the simple fact that, by means
of the voice, two intellectual beings can breathe out their
thoughts, and hold communion on the ideas that arise in their
minds : the. knowledge of the intricate organs by which voice
is produced, can add nothing to our wonder, or to the force of
our conviction, that all which regards man's state is ordered
in perfection. So, philosophically considered, our admiration
ought to be as great from observing that by willing it, we can
raise the arm, as from knowing all the relations of the nerves,
muscles, bones, and joints of the arm, through which that
motion is accomplished. But I would ask, who, in speaking
or moving his arm, thinks of these proofs of design, or feels
this emotion? Do these actions excite either admiration or
gratitude ? Before such feelings arise, do we not require to be
brought to consider them anew ? Is it not agreeable to know
how such actions are performed ? Is it not important, there
fore, that the emotions of surprise and gratitude excited by
contemplating them, should be repeated and enforced, until
they become an enduring devotional feeling ? In fine, whilst
it is pleasing to reflect that the great authorities in natural
science, in times past, have entertained the belief of the great
Architect, and of the continuance of His government, it cannot
be without its use to add strength to the same belief, by having
recourse to those improvements which in all departments of
knowledge are being daily introduced.
Of Expression in the Hand. — Before we conclude, let us
speak of the Hand as an organ of Expression. Formal disser
tations have been composed on this topic. But were we to
seek for authorities, we should take in evidence the works of
the great Painters. By representing the hands disposed in
conformity with the attitude of the figures, the old masters
have been able to express every different kind of sentiment in
their compositions. Who, for example, has not been sensible
to the expression of reverence in the hands of the Magdalens
by Guido, to the eloquence of those in the cartoons of Raphael,
or the significant force in those of the Last Supper, by Da
Vinci ? In these great works may be seen all that Quintilian
says the hand is capable of expressing:— "For other parts of
the body assist the speaker, but these, I may say, speak them-

Chap. X. CONCLUDING REMARKS. 167
selves. By them we ask, we promise, we invoke, we dismiss,
we threaten, we entreat, we deprecate, we express fear, joy,
grief, our doubts, our assent, our penitence ; we show modera
tion, profusion ; we mark number and time." *
Buffon has attempted to convey to us, how knowledge may
have been originally imparted in the world, by fancifully tracing
the impressions on the newly awakened senses of the First
created Man. But, for that which in our great Poet is both
consistent and splendid — imagining man to raise his wondering
eyes to heaven, and spring, by quick instinctive motion, as
" thitherward endeavouring," — Buffon substitutes a poor com
bination of philosophy with false eloquence.
For greater dramatic effect, the first created man is supposed
to address us himself ; and he commences thus : — " he remem
bers the moment of his creation — that time, so full of joy and
trouble, when first he looked around on the verdant lawns and
crystal fountains, and beheld the vault of heaven over his head! "
He then proceeds to declare, — "that he knew not what he was,
or whence he came, but believed that all he saw was part of
himself." Thus he is represented as conscious of objects,
which even to see implies experience, and to enjoy supposes a
thousand agreeable associations already formed. But he goes
on to say, from that blissful state he is awakened " by striking
his head against a palm-tree, which he had not yet learned
could hurt him ! "
Men are often diffident of their first acquired knowledge, and
conceive that philosophy must lead to something very different
from what they have been early taught. Hence, perhaps, the
absurdity of this attempt to unite philosophy and poetry.
Later writers have argued that we have no grounds for sup
posing that there has been, at any time, an interruption to the
uniform course of nature ; meaning by the term, uniformity of
nature, the prevalence of the same laws which are now in opera
tion. If it were found, they say, that on the arrival of a colony
in a new country, fruits were produced spontaneously around

* " Nam ceterse partes loquentem
adjuvant, has, prope est ut dicam,
ipsse loquuntur. His poscimur, pol-
licemur, vocamus, dimittimus, mi-
namur, supplicamus, abominamur,

timemus; gaudium, tristitiam, du-
bitationem, confessionem, peniten-
tiam, modum, copiam, numerum,
tempus, ostendimus," ko.

168 CONCLUDING REMARKS. Chap. X.
them, and flowers sprung up under their feet, then, we might
suppose that our first parents were placed in a scene of pro
fusion and beauty — suited to their helpless condition— and un
like what we see now in the course of nature. It is not very
wise to entertain the subject at all ; but if it is to be discussed,
this is starting altogether wide of the question. We do not
desire to know how a whole tribe migrating westward, could
find sustenance,— but in what state man could be created and
live, without a deviation from what is called the uniform
course of nature. If the first man had been formed helpless as
an infant, he must have perished : and if mature in body, he
must have been gifted with faculties suited to his condition.
A human being, pure from the Maker's hands, with desires and
passions implanted in him adapted to his state, and with a
suitable theatre of existence, implies something very near what
we have been early taught to believe.
In every change which the globe has undergone, an established
relation is perceived between the animal that has been created,
and the elements around it. It is idle to suppose that this has
been a matter of chance. Either the structure and functions of
the animal must have been formed to correspond to the con
dition of the elements, or the elements must have been controlled
to minister to the necessities of the animal ; and if, in contem
plating all the inferior gradations of animal existence, the most
careful investigation leads us to this conclusion, what makes us
so unwilling to admit such an influence, in the last grand work
of creation, the introduction of man ?
We cannot resist these proofs of a beginning, or of a First
Cause. When we are bold enough to extend our inquiries into
those great revolutions that have taken place, whether in the
condition of the earth, or in the structure of the animals which
have inhabited it, our notions of the " uniformity " of the course
of nature must suffer some modification. At certain epochs,
changes in the face of the globe have been wrought, and beings
differing from those previously, or now existing, must have been
brought into existence. Such interference is not contrary to the
great scheme of creation ; it is so only to our present state. For
the most wise and benevolent purposes, a conviction is im
planted in our nature that we may rely on the course of events
being permanent. We belong to a certain epoch ; and it is when

Chap. X. CONCLUDING REMARKS. 169
our ambitious thoughts carry us beyond our natural condition.
that we feel how much our faculties are confined, and our concep
tions, as well as our language, imperfect. We must either
abandon these speculations altogether, or cease to argue purely
from our present situation.
It has now been made manifest, that man, and the animals in
habiting the earth, have been created with reference to the mag
nitude of the globe ; — that their living endowments bear a rela
tion to the elements around them. We have also learned that
the system of animal bodies, notwithstanding the diversity of
forms that meet the eye, is simple and universal : that it not
only embraces all living creatures, but has been continued from
periods of the greatest antiquity, according to the geological cal
culations of time. The most obvious appearances, and the
labours of the geologist, give us reason to believe that the earth
has not always been in the state in which it is now presented to us.
Every substance that we see is compound ; we nowhere obtain
the elements of things : the most solid materials of the globe are
formed of decompounded and reunited parts. Changes, there
fore, have been wrought on the general surface, with long periods,
or epochs, intervening ; and the proofs of these are as distinct
as the furrows on a field are indicative that the plough has
passed over it. In short, progressive changes, from the lowest
to the highest state of organisation and of enjoyment, point to
the great truth, that there was a beginning.
There is nothing in the inspection of the species of animals,
vhich countenances the idea of a return of the world to any
former condition. When we acknowledge that animals have
been created in succession and with an increasing complexity
of parts, we are not to be understood as admitting that there is
here proof of a growing maturity of power, or an increasing
effort in the Creator. And for this very plain reason, which we
have stated before, that the bestowing of life, or the union of
the vital principle with the material body, is a manifestation
of power, superior to that displayed in the formation of an organ,
or the combination of many organs, or construction of the most
complex animal mechanism. It is not, therefore, a greater
power that we see in operation ; but a power manifesting itself
in the perfect and successive adaptation of one thing to another
 of vitality and organisation to inorganic matter.

170 CONCLUDING REMARKS. Chap. X.
We mark changes in the earth's surface, and observe, at the
same time, corresponding changes in the animal creation. We
remark varieties, in the outward form, size, and general condi
tion of animals, with corresponding varieties in the internal
organisation,— until we find Man created, of undoubted pre-emi
nence over all, and placed suitably in a bounteous condition of
the earth.
There is extreme grandeur in the thought of an anticipating
or prospective intelligence : in the reflection that what was
finally accomplished in man, was begun in times incalculably
remote. Most certainly the original crust of the earth has been
fractured and burst up, that its contents might be exposed;
that they might be resolved and washed away by the vicissi
tudes of heat, cold, and rain : mountains and valleys have been
formed : the changes of temperature in the atmosphere have
ensured continual motion and healthful circulation : the plains
have been made salubrious, and the damps which hung on the
low grounds have gathered on the mountains in clouds, so that
refreshing showers have brought down the soil to fertilise the
plain. In this manner have been supplied the means necessary
for man's existence ; with objects suited to excite his ingenuity,
to reward it, and to develop all the various properties both of
his body and of his mind. And thus it is, " that the invisible
things, from the creation of the world, are perceived by what
we do see."
Nor are these conclusions too vast to be drawn from the ex
amination of a part so small as the Human Hand ; since we
have shown that the same system of parts which constitutes
the perfection of that instrument adapted to our condition, had
its type in the members of those vast animals which inhabited
the bays and inland lakes of a former world. If we seek to
discover the relations of things, how sublime is that established
between the state of the earth's surface, which has resulted from
a long succession of revolutions, and the final condition of its
inhabitants, as created in accordance with these changes !
To our measure of time, nothing is more surprising than the
slowness with which the designs of Providence have been ful
filled. But as far as we can penetrate by the light of natural
knowledge, the condition of the earth, and with it, Man's des
tinies, have hitherto been accomplished in great epochs.

Chap. X. CONCLUDING REMARKS. 171
We have been engaged in comparing the structure, organs,
and capacity of man and of animals. We have traced a relation.
But we have also observed a broad line of separation between
them — Man alone capable of reason, affection, gratitude, and
religion : sensible to the progress of time, conscious of the
decay of his strength and faculties, of the loss of friends, and
the approach of death.
One who was the idol of his day has recorded his f eelings on
the loss of his son, in nearly these words : — " We are as well as
those can be who have nothing further to hope or fear in this
world. We go in and out, but without the sentiments that can
create attachment to any spot. We are in a state of quiet, but
it is the tranquillity of the grave, in which all that could make
life interesting to us is laid." If in such a state there were no
refuge for the mind, then were there something wanting in the
scheme of nature : — an imperfection in man's condition, at vari
ance with the benevolence which is manifested in all other parts
of animated nature.
The extension of knowledge does not always direct the mind
to the most consolatory contemplations. We may contrast the
ancient philosopher with the modern. The former, viewing
everything as suited, or subordinate to man, considered him as
a "little god, harboured in a human body," and yielded unresist
ingly to the sentiments which flowed directly from the objects
and phenomena around him.
But as the period advanced when by philosophical inquiry,
experiment, and the improvement of optical instruments, vision
was extended to objects too remote, or too minute for its natural
sphere — when, instead of the wide plane and visible horizon of
the stable earth, our globe was thought of as a ball rolling,
amidst myriads greater than it, through infinite space ; there
was a danger that man would consider his own position with
different sentiments ; that he would fall back with the impres
sion of the littleness of all belonging to him ; that his life would
seem but a point of time, compared with geological periods ; his
body as a mere atom driven about amidst unceasing changes of
the material world. To him, "the earth, with Man upon it,
does not seem much more than an ant-hill, where some anta
carry corn, and some carry their young, and some go empty,
and all to and fro a little heap of dust."

172 CONCLUDING REMARKS. Chap. X,
The danger of adopting such disproportioned views of man's
estate, is greater to the scholar than, to the philosopher. He
who has the power and the genius to investigate nature, will
not be satisfied with the discovery of secondary causes; his
mind will become enlarged, and his thoughts more elevated. It
is otherwise with him v/ho 1 earns, at second-hand, the result of
those inquiries. If such an one see the fire of heaven brought
down into a phial, or materials compounded to produce an
explosion louder than the thunder, and ten times more destruc
tive, the storm will no longer speak an impressive language to
him. When, in watching the booming waves of a tempestuous
sea along the coast, he marks the line at which the utmost
violence of the ocean is stemmed, and by an unseen influence
thrown back, he is more disposed to feel the providence extended
to man, than when the theory of the moon's action is, as it were,
interposed between the scene which he contemplates, and the
sentiments naturally arising in his breast. Those influences
which are natural and just, and have served to develop the
sentiments of millions before him, are dismissed as vulgar and
to. be despised. With the pride of newly-acquired knowledge,
his conceptions embarrass, if they do not mislead him ; in short,
he has hot had that intellectual discipline which should precede
and accompany the acquisition of knowledge.
But a man, of the highest order of genius, may lose the just
estimate of himself from another cause. The sublime nature of
his studies may consign him to depressing thoughts. He may
forget the very attributes of his mind, which have privileged
these high contemplations, and the ingenuity of the hand, which
has so extended the sphere of his observation. The remedy, to
such a mind, is in the studies which we are enforcing. The
heavenly bodies in their motions through space, are held in their
orbits by the continuance of a Power not more wonderful or
more to be admired, than that by which a globule of blood is
suspended in the mass of fluids — or by which, in due season, it
is attracted and resolved ; than that by which a molecule en
tering into the composition of the body, is driven through a
circle of revolutions and made to undergo different states of
aggregation — becoming sometime, a part of a fluid, sometime an
ingredient of a solid, and finally cast out again, from the influ
ence of the living forces.

Chap. X. CONCLUDING REMARKS. 173
Our argument, in the early part of the volume, has shown
Man, by the power of the Hand, (as the ready instrument of the
mind,) accommodated to every condition through which his des
tinies are to be accomplished. We first see the hand minister
ing to his necessities, and sustaining the life of the individual.
In a second stage of his progress, we see it adapted to the wants
of society, when man becomes a labourer and an artificer. In a
state still more advanced, science is brought in aid of mechan
ical ingenuity, and the elements which seemed adverse to the
progress of society, become the means conducing to it. The
seas, which at first set limits to nations, and grouped mankind
into families, are now the means by which they are associated.
Philosophical chemistry has subjected the elements to man's
use ; and all tend to the final accomplishment of the great ob
jects to which everything, from the beginning, has pointed — the
multiplication and distribution of mankind, and the enlarge
ment of the sources of man's comfort and enjoyment — the relief
from too incessant toil, and the consequent improvement of the
higher faculties of his nature. Instinct has directed animals,
until they are spread to the utmost verge of their destined places
of abode. Man too is borne onwards ; and although, on con
sulting his reason, much is dark and doubtful, yet does his
genius operate to fulfil the same design, enlarging the sphere of
life and enjoyment.
Whilst we have before us the course of human progress, as in
a map, we are recalled to a nearer and more important consider
ation : for what to us avail all these proofs of Divine power — of
harmony in nature — of design — the predestined accommodation
of the earth, and the creation of man's frame and faculties, if we
are stopped here? if we perceive no more direct relation be
tween the individual and the Creator ? But we are not so pre
cluded from advancement. On the contrary, reasons accumulate
at every step, for a higher estimate of the living soul, and give
us assurance that its condition is the final object and end of all
this machinery, and of these successive revolutions.
To this must be referred the weakness of the frame, and its
liability to injury, the helplessness of infancy, the infirmities of
age, the pains, diseases, distresses, and afflictions of life— for by
such means is man to be disciplined — his faculties and virtues
unfolded, and his affections drawn to a spiritual Protector.

174

CONCLUDING REMARKS.

Chap. X.

As every instinct, or sense, has an end, or design ; and every
emotion in man has its object and direction ; we must conclude
that the desire of communing with God is but another test of
his being destined for a future existence, and the longing after
immortality the promise of it.

APPENDIX.

ADDITIONAL ILLUSTEATIONS.

[THE MECHANICAL PROPERTIES OF THE SOLID STRUCTURE
OF THE ANIMAL BODY CONSIDERED.
To prepare us for perceiving design in the various internal
structures of an animal body, we must first of all know that
perfect security against accidents is not consistent with the
scheme of nature. A liability to pain and injury only proves
how entirely the human body is formed with reference to the
Mind : since, without the continued call to exertion, which
danger and the uncertainty of life infer, the development of
our faculties would be imperfect, and the mind would remain,
as it were, uneducated.
The contrivances (as we should say of things of art) for pro
tecting the vital organs, are not absolute securities against
accidents ; but they afford protection in that exact measure or
degree calculated to resist the shocks and pressure to which
we are exposed, in the common circumstances of life. A man
can walk, run, leap, and swim, because the texture of his frame,
the strength and power of his limhs, and the specific gravity of
his body, are in relation to all around him. But were the
atmosphere lighter, the earth larger, or its attraction greater —
were he, in short, an inhabitant of another planet, there would
be no correspondence between the strength, gravity, and mus
cular power of his body, and the elements around him; and the
balance in the chances of life would be destroyed.

176 MECHANICAL PROPERTIES
Without such considerations, the reader would fall into the
mistake, that weakness and liability to fracture imply imper
fection in the frame of the body ; whereas a deeper contempla
tion of the subject will convince him of the incomparable
perfection both of the plan and of the execution. The body
is intended to be subject to derangement and accident, and to
become, in the course of life, more and more fragile, until,
by some failure in the framework or vital actions, life termi
nates. And this leads us to reflect on the best means of informing
ourselves of the intention or design shown in this fabric. Can
there be any better mode of raising our admiration than by
comparing it with things of human invention? It must be
allowed that we shall not find a perfect analogy. If we com
pare it with the forms of architecture — the house or the bridge
is not built for motion, but for solidity and firmness, on the
principle of gravitation. The ship rests in equilibrium, pre
pared for passive motion, and the contrivances of the ship
builder are designed for resisting an external force. Whereas
in the animal body, we perceive securities against the gravita
tion of the parts ; provisions to withstand shocks and injuries
from without ; at the same time that the framework is calcu
lated to sustain an internal impulse from the muscular force,
which moves the bones as levers, or, like an hydraulic engine,
propels the fluids through the body.
As in things artificially contrived, lightness and motion are
balanced against solidity and weight, so it is in the animal
body. A house is built on a foundation, immoveable ; and the
slightest shift of the ground, followed by the ruin of the house,
brings no discredit on the builder ; for he proceeds on the cer
tainty of strength from gravitation on a fixed foundation. But
a ship is built with reference to motion ; to receive an impulse
from the wind, and to move through the water : in comparison
with the fabric founded on the fixed and solid ground, it be
comes subjected to new influences, and in proportion as it is
fitted to move rapidly in a light breeze, it is exposed to founder
in the storm. A log of wood, or a Dutch dogger, almost as
solid as a log, is comparatively safe in the trough of the sea
during a storm— when a bark, slightly built and fitted for
lig> ter breezes, would be shaken to pieces ; that is to say, the

OP THE ANIMAL FRAME. 177
masts and rigging of a ship (the provisions for its motion) may
become the source of weakness, and, perhaps, of destruction ;
and safety is thus voluntarily sacrificed in part, to obtain
another property, motion.
So in the animal body : sometimes we see the safety of parts
provided for by strength calculated for inert resistance; but
when made for motion, when light and easily influenced, they
become proportionally weak and exposed ; unless some other
principle be admitted, and a different kind of security be sub
stituted for that of weight and solidity : still a certain insecu
rity arises from this delicacy of structure.
We have already had occasion to show that there is always
a balance between the power of exertion, and the capability of
resistance, in the living body. A horse or a deer receives a
shock in alighting from a leap ; but still the inert power of
resisting that shock, bears a relation to the muscular power
with which it springs. And so it is in man ; the elasticity
and strength of his limbs are always accommodated to his
activity. But it is obvious, that in a fall, the shock which the
lower extremities are calculated to resist, may come on the
upper extremity ; which, from being adapted for extensive and
rapid motion, is incapable of sustaining the impulse, and the
bones are broken or displaced.
Xhe analogy between the structure of the human body and
the works of human contrivance, is, therefore, not perfect.
Sometimes the material is different, sometimes the end to be
attained is not precisely the same ; and, above all, in the animal
body a double object is often secured by the structure or frame
work, which cannot be accomplished by mere human ingenuity,
and of which, therefore, we can offer no illustration strictly
correct. However ingenious our contrivances may be, they
are not only limited, but they present a sameness which be
comes tiresome. Nature, on the contrary, gives us the same
objects of interest, or images of beauty, with such variety,
that they lose nothing of their influence and attraction by
repetition. If, from a too careless survey of external nature, and the con
sequent languor of his reflections, the reader have an imperfect
notion of design and providence, we hope that the mere novelty
of the instances we have to place before him, may carry con-

178 MECHANICAL PROPERTIES
viction to his mind ; for we draw from nature in a field which
has been left strangely neglected, though the nearest to us of
all, and of all the most fruitful.
Men proceed in a slow course of advancement in architectural,
mechanical, or optical sciences ; yet it is found that when an
improvement is made, there are all along examples of it in the
animal body; which ought to have been marked before, and
which might have suggested to us the improvement. It is sur
prising that this view of the subject has seldom, if ever, been
taken seriously, and never pursued. Is the human body formed
by an all-perfect Architect, or is it not ? And, if the question
be answered in the affirmative, does it not approach to some
thing like infatuation, that, possessing such perfect models as
we do in the anatomy of the body, we are so prone to neglect
them? We undertake to prove that the foundation of the
Eddystone lighthouse, the perfection of engineering skill, is not
formed on principles so correct as those which have directed
the arrangement of the bones of the foot ; that the most perfect
pillar or kingpost is not adjusted with the accuracy of the hol
low bones which support our weight ; that the insertion of a
ship's mast into the hull is a clumsy contrivance compared with
the connexions of the human spine and pelvis ; and that the
tendons are composed in a manner superior to the last patent
cables of Huddart, or the yet more recently improved chain-
cables of Bloxam.
In two introductory chapters of his "Natural Theology," Arch
deacon Paley has given us the advantage of simple, Dut forcible
language, with extreme ingenuity, in illustrating the mechanism
of the frame. But for his example, we should have felt some
hesitation in making so, close a comparison between design, as
exhibited by the Creator in the animal structure, and the mere
mechanism, the operose and imperfect contrivances, of human
art. Certainly there may be a comparison; for a superficial and
rapid survey of the animal body may convey the notion of an
apparatus of levers, pulleys, and ropes, which may be compared
with the spring, barrel, and fusee, the wheels and pinions of a
watch. But if we study the texture of animal bodies more
curiously, and especially if we compare animals with each other

OF THE ANIMAL FRAME. 179
— for instance, the simple structure of the lower creatures with
the complicated structure of those higher in the scale of exis
tence — we shall see that, in the lowest links of the chain, ani
mals are so simple, that we should almost call them homogene
ous ; and yet there, we find life, sensibility, and motion. It is
in the animals higher in the scale that we discover parts having
distinct endowments, and exhibiting complex mechanical rela
tions. The mechanical contrivances which are so obvious in
man, are the provisions for the agency and dominion of an in
tellectual power over the materials around him.
We mark this early, because there are authors who, looking
upon this complexity of mechanism, confound it with the pre
sence of life itself, and think that it is a necessary adjunct — nay,
even that life proceeds from it ; whereas the mechanism which
we have to examine in the animal body, is formed with refer
ence to the necessity of acting upon, or receiving impressions
from, things external to the body ; an inevitable condition of
our state of existence in a material world.
Many have expressed their opinion very boldly on the neces
sary relation between organisation and life, who have never ex
tended their views to the system of nature. To place man, an
intelligent and active being, in this world of matter, he must
have properties bearing relation to that matter. The existence
of matter implies an agency of certain forces ; the particles of
bodies must suffer attraction and repulsion, and the bodies
formed by the balance of these influences upon their atoms or
particles, must have weight or gravity, and possess mechanical
properties. So must the living body, independently of its pecu
liar endowments, have similar composition and qualities, and
have certain relations to the solids, fluids, gases, heat, light,
electricity, or galvanism, which are around it. Without these,
the intellectual principle could receive no impulse— could have
no agency and no relation to the material world. The whole
body must gravitate or have weight ; without which it could
neither stand securely nor exert its powers on the bodies around
it. But for this, muscular power itself, and all the appliances
which are related to that power, would be useless. When,
therefore, it is affirmed that organisation or construction is ne
cessary to life, we may at least pause in giving assent, under the
certainty that we see another and a different reason for the con-

180 MECHANICAL PROPERTIES
struction of the body. Thus we perceive, that as the body must
have weight to have power, so must it have mechanical contri
vance, or arrangement of its parts. As it must have weight, so
must it be sustained by a skeleton ; and when we examine the
bones, which give the body height and shape, we find each
column (for in that sense a bone may be first taken) adjusted
with the finest adaptation to the perpendicular weight it has to
bear, as well as to the lateral thrusts to which it is subject in the
motions of the body.
The bones also act as levers, on the most accurate mechanical
principles. And whilst these bones are necessary to give firm
ness and strength to the frame, it is admirable to observe that
one bone never touches another ; but a fine elastic material, the
cartilage, intervenes betwixt their ends, the effect of which is to
give a very considerable degree of elasticity to the whole frame.
Without such elasticity a jar would reach the more delicate
organs, even in the very recesses of the body, at every violent
motion ; and, but for this provision, every joint would creak by
the attrition of the surfaces of the bones. The bones are sur
rounded by the flesh or muscles. The muscle is a particular
fibrous texture, which alone, of all the materials constituting
the frame, possesses the peculiar inherent power or endowment
of contracting ; it is this power which we are to understand
when professional men speak of irritability. The contraction
of the muscle bears no proportion to the cause which brings it
into operation; more than the touch of the spur upon the
horse's side does, as a mechanical impetus, to the force with
which the animal propels both himself and rider. Each muscle
of the body — and by common estimate there are hundreds — is
isolated ; and no property of motion is propagated from one to
another ; they are distinct instruments of motion. The muscles
surround the bones, and are so beautifully classed, that in every
familiar motion of the limbs some hundreds of them are ad
justed in their exact degree, to effect the simplest change in the
position of the body. Each fibre of a muscle, and a muscle
may contain millions of fibres, is so attached to the tendon, that
the whole power is concentrated there ; and it is the tendons of
the muscles which, like ropes, convey the force of the muscles
to the bones. The bones are passive levers ; the muscles are
the active parts of the frame. With all the seeming intricacy

OF THE ANIMAL FRAME. 181
in the running and crossing of these tendons, they are adjusted
accurately on mechanical principles. Where it is necessary,
they run in sheaths, or they receive new directions by lateral
ligamentous attachments, or there are placed under them
smooth and lubricated pulleys, over which they run; and
where there is much friction, there is a provision equal in
effect to the friction-wheel of machinery. Thus the bones are
levers, with their heads most curiously carved and articulated ;
and joined to the intricate relations of the muscles and tendons,
they present on the whole a piece of perfect mechanism.
It is with this texture — the coarsest, roughest portion of the
animal frame — that a parallel is drawn, when we compare it
with the common mechanical contrivances of machinery. But
whilst these grosser parts of the living body exhibit a perfection
in mechanical adaptation far greater than the utmost ingenuity
of man can exhibit in his machinery, let the reader remember
that they are surpassed as objects of admiration by the finer
organs ; such, for example, as the structure of those nerves
which carry the mandate of the will to the moving parts ; or of
the vessels which convey the blood in the circulation, and
where the laws of hydraulics may be finely illustrated ; or of
those secreting glands, where some will affirm the galvanic
influence is in operation, with something subtler than the
apparatus of plates and troughs. And could we compare the
contrivances of man, with such fine mechanisms in the animal
frame, there are structures to be adduced, much more admirable
still. The organs of the senses, which are so many inlets for
the qualities of surrounding matter to excite corresponding
sensations and perceptions, afford us delightful subjects of
contemplation ; and give proofs of design in the human organ
ism the most conclusive, not only in regard to the system of
the body itself, but as it forms a part of the great scheme of
the universe.]

OF THE SOLID STRUCTURES OF ANIMAL BODIES.
SUBSTITUTES FOB THE TECE SKELETON.
It has been shown, in the first chapters, that solidity and gravity
are qualities necessary to every inhabitant of the earth; the
first, to protect it ; the second, that the animal may stand, and
possess that resistance which shall make the muscles avail
able for action. In all animal bodies, besides those structures
on which their economy and much of their vital functions de
pend, there must be a texture to give firmness. Without this,
the vegetable would have no characteristic form ; and animals
would want the protection necessary for their delicate organs,
and could not move upon their extremities. We have to show
with what admirable contrivance, in the different classes of
organised beings, this firm fabric is reared ; sometimes to pro
tect the parts, as a shell ; and sometimes to give them form '
and motion, as ill the skeleton.
In vegetables, as in animals, a certain firm material is essen
tial to support the parts which are the living active organs
of their system, and which are so beautiful and interesting.
The ligneous or woody fibre is a minute, elastic, semi-opaque
filament, which, closing in and adhering to other filaments of
the same kind, forms the grain or solid part of the wood. The
best demonstration of the office of the woody fibre is in the
leaf. When the leaf of a plant is prepared by maceration and
putrefaction, and the soft part washed away, there remains an
elegant skeleton of wood, which retains the form of the leaf,
and is perfectly well suited to support its delicate organisation.
It is the same substance which, when accumulated and con
densed, gives form and strength to the roots and branches of the
oak. And these, though fantastic and irregular in their growth,
preserve a mechanical principle of strength ; as obvious, to the
ship-builder, in the knees of timber, as in the delicate skeleton
of the leaf : Lord Bacon speaks of " knee-timber that is good
for ships that are to be tossed" The woody fibre, though not

SUBSTITUTES FOR SKELETON. 183
directly engaged in the living functions of the tree, is yet essen
tial for extending the branches and leaves to the influence of
the atmosphere, and by its elasticity under the pressure of the
wind, giving what is equivalent to exercise for the motion of
the sap. A tree opposed to winds and to a severe climate is
dense in its grain, and the wood is preferred by the workman
to that which is the growth of a milder climate.
We cannot miss seeing the analogy of the woody fibre to the
bones of animals. Bones are firm, to sustain the animal's weight,
and to give it form. They are jointed, and move under the
action of muscles ; and this exercise promotes the activity of
the living parts, and is necessary to health. But let us first
observe the structure of some of the lower animals. It will be
agreeable to find the hard material, though always appropriate
and perfect, becoming more and more mechanical and complex
in its construction, from the lithophytes, testacea, Crustacea,
reptiles, fishes, mammalia, up to Man.
The first material to be taken notice of, which bestows this
necessary firmness on the animal textures, is the cellular sub
stance. This consists of delicate membranes, which form cells ;
these cells communicate with each other, and the tissue thus
composed enters everywhere into the structure of the animal
frame. It constitutes the principal part of the medusa, which
floats like a bubble on the water ; and it is found in every
texture of the human body. It forms the most delicate coats
of the eye ; and gives toughness and firmness to the skin. It
is twisted into ligaments, and knits the largest bones : it is the
medium between bone, muscle, and blood-vessel : it produces a
certain firmness, and union of the various component parts of
the body, while it admits of their easy motion. Without it, we
should be rigid, notwithstanding the proper organs for motion ;
and the cavities could not be distended or contracted, nor could
the vessels pulsate.
But the cellular texture is not sufficient on all occasions,
either for giving strength or protection : nor does it serve to
sustain the weight, unless the animal lives suspended in water,
or creeps upon the ground. Shell-fish have their strong cover
ing for a double purpose : to keep them at the bottom of the
sea and to protect them when drifted by the tide against rocks.
Those animals of the molluscous division which inhabit the

184 SUBSTITUTES FOR BONE.
deep sea, and float singly, or in groups, as the genus scalpa, have
a leathern covering only; because they are not liable to the
rough movements to which the others are subject, in the advanc
ing and retiring tides. The scalpa, simple as it is in structure
—for it presents the appearance of a mere bag with two orifices
capable of opening and closing by valves — possesses at once all
the functions of digestion, respiration, reproduction, and, more
strange than any, locomotion; in its outward form and sub
stance, we may see the provisions for its mode of life, and
the place that it holds: from floating or swimming at will,
it is one of the " natantes ; " and it is further distinguished by
fche term " tunicata," from being furnished with a leathern coat :
now it is worthy of admiration, that although unprovided with
exterior members, and having only two or three muscular barids
attached to its outward covering, it can move from place to
place, by merely taking in, and throwing out, the water in which
it floats ; and the same operation is sufficient to supply it with
its food, and carry on the process of respiration.
The hermit crab gives us a demonstration of the necessity for
a protecting covering. Its tail or hinder part has no crust or
shell upon it, as its body and claws have ; therefore this animal
requires to seek a suitable dwelling-place for itself — some empty
univalve shell, into which it insinuates its tail, and from which
its head and arms project : with this power of selecting a house,
it removes, when it has outgrown the shell in which it has
dwelt ; and may then be seen trying the empty shells upon the
shore, or contending with others of its own species for the pos
session of a shell. Surveying these instances, we cannot resist
the conviction of the fine adaptation of the sensibilities and in
stincts of animals to their forms and substances.
With all this, when we look to animals of more complex
structure, possessing a distinct system of muscles, we perceive
the necessity for some harder and more resisting material being
added, if the weight is to rest on points or extremities ; or if
the muscular activity is to be concentrated. And nature has
other means of supplying the fulcrum and lever, besides the
bones, or true skeleton, which we have been examining in the
first part of the volume. Perhaps we shall find that there is a
system of solid parts superior even to what we have been study
ing in the vertebrata.

DESIGN IN SHELL OF OYSTER. 185
The larvse of proper insects, and the annelides, have no exterior
members for walking or flying : but to enable them to creep,
they must have points of resistance, or their muscles would be
useless. Their skins suffice ; and these are hardened by a deposit
within them, for that purpose. But if this skin were not further
provided, it would be rigid and unyielding, and be no substitute
for bone. The hardened integuments are, therefore, divided
into rings ; to these the muscles are attached ; and as the cellular
membrane between the rings is pliant, the animals are ena'bled
to creep and turn in every direction.
Without further argument, we perceive how the skin, by hav
ing a hard matter deposited within it, is adapted to all the
purposes of the skeleton. It is worthy of notice that some
animals, still lower in the scale — the tubipores, sertularia, cel-
lularia, &c, exhibit something like a skeleton. They are con
tained within a strong case, from which they can extend them
selves ; whilst the corals and madrepores, on the other hand,
have a central axis of hard material, the soft animal matter
being, in a manner, seated upon it. But these substitutes for
the skeleton are, like shell, foreign to the living animal ; although
in sustaining the softer substance and giving form, they may
resemble bone.
The texture of a sponge, its form and elasticity, depends upon
a membranous and horny substance, to which both silicious
and calcareous spicube are added. Of shell, the hardening
material is carbonate of lime, united to a membranous or car
tilaginous animal matter. Paley describes the slime of a snail
hardening into shell by the influence of the atmosphere : but
that is a very imperfect, and indeed erroneous view. The shell
of the oyster, and even the pearl, consists of concentric layers
of membrane and carbonate of lime ; and it is their laminated
arrangement which causes the beautiful iridescence in the
polished surface of those shells* In the rough outer surface of
an oyster shell, we shall see the marks of the successive layers :
that which now forms the centre and utmost convexity of the
shell was at an earlier age sufficient to cover the whole animal ;
but as the oyster grows, it throws out from its surface a new
secretion, composed of animal matter and carbonate of lime,
* See the discoveries of Sir David Brewster on this subject : Phil.
Trans. 1814, p. 397.

186

DESIGN IN SHELL OF OYSTER.

which is attached to the shell already formed, and projects
farther at its edges. Thus the animal is not only protected by
this covering, but as it increases in size, the shell is made thicker
and stronger by successive layers.
The reader will not be unwilling that we should stop here to
show that, rudely composed as this covering of the oyster seems
to be, it not only answers the purpose of protecting the animal,
but is shaped with as curious a destination to the vital functions
of respiration and obtaining food, as anything we can survey in
the higher animals. We cannot walk the streets without noticing
that, in the fish-shops, the oysters are laid with their flat sides
uppermost. They would die were it otherwise. The animal
breathes and feeds by opening its shell, and thereby receiving a
new portion of water into the concavity of its under shell ; and
if it did not thus open its lid, the water could neither be pro
pelled through its branchiae or respiratory apparatus, nor sifted
for its food. It is in this manner that they lie in their native
beds ; were they on their flat surface, no food could be gathered,
as it were, in their cup ; and if exposed by the retreating tide,
the opening of the shell would allow the water to escape, and
leave them dry, thus depriving them of respiration as well as
food.* We perceive, then, that the form of the oyster-shell,
rude as it seems, is not a thing of chance. Since the shell is a
cast of the body of the animal, the peculiar shape must have
been given to the soft parts, in anticipation of that of the shell ;
an instance of prospective adaptation.
That the general conformation of the shell should have rela
tion to what we may term its function, will be less surprising,
when we find a minute mechanical intention in each layer of
that shell. We should be inclined to say that the earthy
matter of the shell crystallises, were it not that the striated or
fibrous appearance differs in the direction of the fibres in each
successive stratum — each layer having the striae composing it
parallel to one another, but directed obliquely to those of the
layer previously formed, and the whole exhibiting a strong tex
ture arranged upon well-known mechanical principles.
* In confirmation of thesere^narks,
when the geologist sees the fossil
shells in their strata, he can deter
mine whether the oysters were over

whelmed in their native beds ; or
were- rolled and scattered, as shells
merely.

EXTERNAL SKELETON. 187
Shell is not alive, as true bone is. If the shell of any of the
testacea be broken, the surface of the animal secretes a new
shell : not, however, by the concretion of slime, but by the
regular secretion of a substance combined of earthy and gela
tinous matter.* Delicate experiments have been made by
steeping shells in diluted nitric acid, by which it is shown that
the carbonate of lime is the earthy material of shells ; and that,
when that earth is dissolved in the acid, a gelatinous substance
of the form of the shell remains.
In crustaceous animals, such as the lobster and crab, the shell
is formed of the same substances as the testacea, but with an
addition of the phosphate to the carbonate of lime. A question
arises, how these animals grow ? It is found that they cast off
their shells, and remain retired until a new and larger shell is
secreted. Reaumur has given a very particular account of the
process of separation, in the cray-fish. f In the shell of Crus
tacea, we find an approximation to bone, inasmuch as it is arti
culated, and has certain processes directed inwards, to which
the muscles are attached.
In the insect, the resisting material is deposited externally>
and is converted to every purpose attained by means of an
osseous system. Distinct members are formed, with the power
of walking, leaping, flying, holding, spinning, and weaving.
The hardened integuments, articulated and performing the office
of bones, have like them spines and processes : with this differ
ence, that their aspect is towards the centre, instead of project
ing exteriorly. Were we to compare the system of resisting parts
in man, and in the insect, we should be forced to acknowledge
that the mechanical provisions in the lower animal are superior !
The first advantage of the skeleton in the insect J being ex
ternal, and removed from the influence of the circulation, is,
that it is capable of having greater hardness and strength im
parted to it, according to the necessities of the animal, than can
be bestowed upon bone. True bone, being internal, and depend-

* We owe our knowledge of the
formation of sheU to the great
French naturalist Reaumur; who,
by ingenious experiments, showed
the distinction between sheU and
bone, and that the former was se
creted from the surface of the animal.

t See a paper by Sir John Dalzell,
on the Exuviation of the Crustacea :
Transactions of British Association,
1851, p. 120.
J It is termed " exoskeleton," as
contrasted with the " endoskeleton,"
or internal skeleton.

]88 EXTERNAL SKELETON.
ing for its growth and vitality on the blood-vessels which pene
trate it, must be porous and soft. The next advantage in the
exterior crust or skeleton, is mechanical ; the hard material is
proportionately stronger, to resist fracture, and bear the action
of muscles, according as it is removed to a distance from the
centre : now the muscles in the insect, instead of surrounding
the bones, as in the higher anima's, are contained within the
shell ; consequently the shell is so much the further thrown off
from the axis of the limb ; and increased strength is thus ob
tained. When considering the larger vertebral animals, we had reason
to say that a correspondence is preserved between the resistance
of the bones, and the power of the muscles ; and we may in
dulge the same reflection here. As the integument covering
the insect is much harder than bone, so are the muscles
stronger, compared with those of the vertebrata. From the
time of Socrates, have comparisons been made between the
strength of the horse and- that of the insect ; to the undoubted
superiority of the insect.
As goodly a volume has been written on the muscles of a
caterpillar, as has ever been dedicated to human myology ; the
most minute anatomical description has been given of the cater
pillar which feeds upon the willow.* And here we learn that
the annular construction of the hard integument determines the
plan of the whole anatomy — the arrangement of the muscles,
even the distribution of the nerves. Each ring has its three sets
of muscles ; direct and oblique ; traversing and interweaving,
but yet distinct and symmetrical ; and all as capable of being
minutely defined, as have been those of the human body by
Albinus. Corresponding to these muscles, the system of nerves
is delicately laid down. In short, we allow ourselves to be mis
led in supposing that animals, either of minute size, or low in
the scale of arrangement, exhibit any neglect or imperfection.
Even if they were more simple in structure, the admiration
should be the greater : since all have the functions necessary to
life in full operation.
We may perceive that a certain firm substance, calculated to
sustain the more strictly living part, and to give strength, is
* The work referred to is by Lyon- I and sixty-one muscles in this eater-
net, who reckons four thousand | pillar.

COMPOSITION OF BONE. 189
traceable through all living bodies. In the vegetable, it is the
woody fibre ; and there sometimes, as if to mark the analogy,
we have silicious earth deposited, instead of the phosphate and
earbonate of lime of the animal structure. In the lower ani
mals, we find membranes capable of secreting a solid material ;
and although, in some instances, that substance resembles
leather or cartilage, it is, in general, earthy, and, for the most
part, consists of carbonate of lime. But when elasticity, as
well as general resistance, is necessary, cartilage is employed ; a
highly compressible and elastic substance. Thus, fishes have a
large proportion of cartilage in their bones; and some, from
having it in greater quantity, are called cartilaginous, in distinc
tion to the osseous or true fishes. The cartilaginous and elastic
structure comes into use in an unexpected manner in the fish ;
when the salmon or trout leaps from the water, the muscles of
one side first bend the spine ; as they relax, the spine recoils :
hence its elasticity assists the action of the muscles of the oppo
site side : and thus these two forces combine to give a powerful
stroke on the water with the tail, and the fish makes its bound.
MECHANICAL PKOPERTTES OF BONE, OR OF THE TRUE SKELETON.
Those considerations lead us to understand more readily the
composition of bone. It consists of three parts, having differ
ent properties — membrane, cartilage, and phosphate of lime. By
these various substances being united in its texture, bone is
enabled to resist stretching, torsion, and compression. If there
had been a superabundance of the earthy parts, it would have
broken like a piece of porcelain ; and if it had not possessed
toughness and some degree of elasticity, it would not have en
abled a man to pull, and push, and twist. [The earthy sub
stance is not merely united with the cartilage or gelatinous
matter ; but membranes and vessels enter into the composition
of bone. Bone is not excreted, or foreign to the system of the
animal body ; on the contrary, it participates in those laws that
govern living matter. It is continually undergoing changes of
deposition and absorption, through the influence of blood-ves
sels and absorbing vessels ; by which means it grows with the
growth of the soft parts.
In fishes, which live in an element that supports the weight,
the bones have a very large proportion of elastic cartilage in

190 PROPORTIONING OF THE
their composition; and some, as we have already remarked,
possess so little phosphate of lime, as to be denominated carti
laginous fishes. Indeed, in the higher classes of animals which
live upon land, there is, in the different bones, a finely appro
priated union of earth, cartilage, and fibre ; so as to give to each
respectively the due proportion of resistance, elasticity, and
toughness. Not only is the bone of each class of animal pecu
liar in the proportion of its ingredients ; but each bone of the
skeleton, as of man, has a due proportion of earth, cartilage, and
fibre, to suit its office. The temporal bone, in which the ear is
situated, is as dense as marble (it is called os petrosum), and of
course is suited to propagate the vibration of sound ; the heel-
bone, or projection of the elbow, on which the powerful muscles
pull, is, on the other hand, fibrous, as if partaking of the nature
of a tendon or rope ; whilst the columnar bones, which support
the weight, have an intermediate degree of density, and an. ad
mirable form, as we shall see presently.
Looking to the hard texture of bone, we should scarcely sup
pose that it was elastic. But if ivory possess elasticity, this
property cannot be denied t j bone. A billiard ball being put
upon a marble slab, recently painted, a very small spot will
mark the point of contact ; but if we let the ball drop upon
the marble from a height, we shall find the spot much larger ;
because the elasticity of the ivory has permitted the ball to
yield, and to assume momentarily an oblate spheroidal form.
When a new principle is admitted into a complex fabric, the
utmost ingenuity can hardly anticipate all the results. Elas
ticity is extensively employed in the machinery of the animal
body. Now, to show how finely it must be apportioned, we may
take the illustration of a bridge, built of iron, instead of stone,
and having a certain swing and elasticity. It lately happened
that a bridge of that construction fell ; and it was under very
curious circumstances — by the marching of a body of soldiers
over it. The bridge was calculated to sustain a greater weight
than that of the body of men ; and had they walked tumultu-
ously over it, it would have withstood the pressure. But the
soldiers marched to time across it : accordingly, they accumu
lated a motion in the bridge, consequent on the elasticity of the
material ; which swinging motion, added to their weight, broke
it down. This may give us some idea how finely adjusted the

MATERIAL OF BONE. 191
different qualities in the solid material of the animal fabric
must be ; not merely to enable it to sustain the incumbent
weight, or to resist transverse or oblique impulses, but to with
stand the frequent and regularly-repeated forces to which it
may be subject in the various actions of the body. It gives
interest to this fact, that hardly is there a bone which has not
a constitution of its own, or a disposition of its material ad
justed to its place and use : the heel-bone, the shin-bone, the
vertebrae, and the bones of the head, all differ in their mechani
cal construction.
This explanation of the use of the prominent ridges of a
bone, imparts a new interest to osteology. The anatomist
ought, from the form of the ridges, to deduce the motions of
the limb, the forces bearing upon the bone, and the nature and
common place of fracture ; while, to the general inquirer, an
agreeable course of reasoning is introduced into a department,
which, when the " irregularities " of the bone are spoken of as
if they were the accidental consequences of the pressure of the
flesh upon it, is altogether barren of interest. It is perhaps not
far removed from our proper object to remark, that a person of
feeble texture and indolent habits, has the bone smooth, thin,
and light ; but that nature, solicitous for our safety in a manner
which we could not anticipate, combines with the powerful
muscular frame, a dense and perfect texture of bone, where
every spine and tubercle -is completely developed. And thus
the inert and mechanical provisions of the bone always bear
relation to the living muscular power of the limb ; and exercise
is as necessary to the perfect constitution and form of a bone,
as it is to the increase of the muscular power.
Jockeys speak correctly enough when they use the term
"blood and bone," as distinguishing the breed or genealogy of
horses; for blood is an allowable term for the race, and bone is
so far significant, that the bone of a running horse is remark
ably compact, compared with the bone of a draught horse. The
reader can easily understand, that in the gallop, the horse must
come on his fore-legs with a shock proportioned to the span ;
and that, as in man, the greater his muscular power, the denser
and stronger must be the bone.
As the bones are not mere pillars, intended to bear a per
pendicular weight, we ought not to expect uniformity in their

192 COMPARISON WITH ARTIFICIAL MECHANISM.
shape. According to its place, each bone bears up against the
varying forces applied to it. Consider two men wrestling to
gether, and then think how various must be the direction of
the resistances : now they are pulling, and the bones are like
ropes ; or again they are writhing and twisting, and the bones
bear a force like the axle-tree between two wheels; or the
bones are like pillars, under a great weight ; or they are acting
as levers. We see, therefore, why a bone, to withstand these
different shocks, should consist, as we have stated, of three
parts : the earth of bone (phosphate of lime) to give it firmness ;
fibres to give it toughness ; and cartilage to give it elasticity.]
Let us compare the machinery of some complicated engine
with the mechanical properties in an animal body, that we may
comprehend what is most truly admirable in the latter. Sup
pose the engineer has contrived a steam carriage ; that with the
utmost possible precision he has calculated the power of the
steam, the pressure of the atmosphere, the strength of the
tubes and cylinder, the weight to be moved, and the friction of
the whole machinery. At length, the engine is constructed.
But, on trial, it remains immoveable. After much thought, the
cause of the impediment is discovered, the pressure is eased, or
the friction diminished ; and, to the admiration of the beholders,
the carriage actually moves — till, in course of time, a pipe bursts.
This, however is mended ; the whole is improved, and a day is
appointed for a great trial The engine now runs for half a
mile, and first a bolt is shaken loose, then a spring snaps ; but,
at length, with renewed ingenuity and labour, and much cor
rection, after a few months, the carriage actually runs a stage.
By this comparison we are taught how much, even in the mere
machinery of the animal frame, before the powers of life are
measured out to it, is to be admired. Such, for example, as
the force of the heart to propel the blood ; the resistance of the
tubes to the circulating fluids ; the proportioning of the strength
of the limbs to the weight of the body ; the adjustment of the
power of the muscles to the length of the bones, as levers ; the
flexibility of the joints; the density of the bones to resist
pressure or weight ; their elasticity to prevent concussion and
fracture. In the animal body, so finely are the active and re
sisting powers balanced, that no accident occurs from dispro-
portioned forces; no second trial is wanted, to increase the

LIABILITY TO ACCIDENTS. 193
power, or strengthen the levers, or add to the elasticity of the
springs. It is at once perfect; perfect to its end. But to
understand that fully, and the adaptations in the constitution
of the bones, we must proceed a little deeper in our investiga
tion. It has been already said, that perfect security against acci
dents, in the animal body, and in man especially, is not con
sistent with the scheme of nature. Without the precautions,
and the continued calls to exertion, which danger and the uncer
tainty of life produce, many of the faculties of the mind would
remain unexercised. Whence, else, would come courage, reso
lution, and all the manly virtues ? Take away the influence of
the uncertain duration of life, and we must suppose also a
change in the whole moral constitution of man. Whether we
consider the bones as formed to protect important organs, as in
the skull ; or levers for the attachment of the muscles, as in the
limbs ; or in both capacities, as in the texture of the chest —
while they are perfectly adapted to their function, they are yet
subject to derangements from accident. The mechanical adap
tations are sufficient to their ends, and afford safety, in the
natural exercises of the body. To these exercises there is an
intuitive impulse, ordered with a relation to the strength of the
frame of the body ; for by the admonitions of pain we are de
terred from the excessive or dangerous use of the limbs.
The bones of the extremities are termed hollow cylinders.
Now, after having convinced ourselves of the necessity of the
cylindrical form for the bones of the limbs, as it is that which
combines strength with lightness, we may find, upon a more
particular examination, that they vary in their shape, in many
instances : and we may even, at last, be prone to believe that
there is much chance or irregularity in their forms. But such a
conception is quite inconsistent with a correct knowledge of the
skeleton ; and as it leads to further mistakes, we shall take
pains to show, — first, why the bones are hollow cylinders ; and
secondly, why they vary in shape, so as to appear to the super
ficial observer irregular.
The reasoning that serves to explain the admirable structure
of the hollow cylindrical bone, applies equally to many other
natural forms ; as that of a quill, a reed, or a straw. And this
last example may remind us of the saying of that unfortunate

194 ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE
man, who being drawn from his cell, before the Inquisition, was
accused of denying that there is a God ; picking up a straw
which had stuck to his garments, he said, "If there were
nothing else in nature to teach me the existence of a Deity, this
straw would be sufficient."
It hardly requires demonstration that, having a given mass of
material with which to construct a pillar or column, the hollow
cylinder will be the form of greatest strength. The experiments
of Du Hamel on the strength of beams, afford us the best illus
trations as to how the material should be arranged to resist
transverse fracture. When a beam, resting on its extremities,
sustains a weight upon its centre, it admits of being divided
into three portions, each being in a different condition with re
gard to the weight : the lower part resists fracture by its tough
ness ; the upper part, by its density and resistance to compres
sion ; and the portion between these is not acted upon at all
This middle part might, therefore, be taken away, without any
considerable weakening of the beam : or it might be added to
the upper or the lower part, with great advantage. In illustra
tion of this; when a tree is blown down, and broken at its
trunk, the fractured part gapes to the windward — where the
wood has been torn asunder like the snapping of a rope : to the
leeward, the woody fibres are crushed into one another and
splintered — having given way to the compression ; while the
central part is merely bent, not wholly fractured.
It can be readily understood how a tougher substance added
to the lower part, would strengthen the beam : we see it in the
skin laid along the back part of the Indian's bow ; or in the
leather of a carriage spring. Again, the following is a beautiful
experiment to demonstrate the quality in the upper portion of
the timber by which the weight is resisted : if a part, amount
ing to nearly a third of the beam, be cut away, and a denser
piece of wood be nicely let into the space, the strength will be
increased ; because the hardness of the new piece of wood is cal
culated to withstand compression. This experiment I like the
better because it explains an interesting peculiarity in the con
struction of the cylindrical bones ; namely, a difference in the
density of the several parts or sides of the bones. In reading
anatomical books, we are led to suppose that the pressure of the
muscles which surround the bones, has the effect of moulding

MECHANICAL PROPERTIES OF BONE. 195
them into their particular forms. This is a mistake. Were we to
admit the truth of such an explanation, it would be the same as
admitting an imperfection in the design : and we should expect
to find, that if the bones yielded at all to the force of the muscles,
they would give way more and more, according as the power of
the muscles increased, until they were ultimately destroyed.
Nothing, however, in the living frame is more admirable than
the relation established between the muscular power and the
strength, or capacity of passive resistance, in the bones. The
deviations from the cylindrical form are not irregularities. If
we take for our example the chief bone of the leg, the tibia, or
shin-bone, which, of all others, varies the most from the cylin
drical shape, we shall have the best demonstration of the cor
respondence between the form of the bone and the force which
it has to sustain. When we consider the direction in which the
force falls upon the tibia, as we put the foot to the ground, in
walking, running, leaping, or in any of the powerful exertions
where the weight of the body is thrown forwards on the ball of
the great toe, it must appear that the pressure comes chiefly on
the anterior part. Accordingly, if the tibia were a perfect cylin
der, it would be subject to fracture, even from the mere force of
the body, when thrown upon it. But if a column be rendered
stronger, by the material being accumulated to a distance from
the centre, we readily perceive the advantage gained by a spine
or ridge being formed upon the front of the tibia. Again, if we
examine the internal structure of that spine, we shall find that
it is much denser and stronger than the rest of the bone. No
one, therefore, can deem the deviation from the regular cylin
drical form, or the density of this ridge, a thing of accident ; it
corresponds so perfectly with the experiment of Du Hamel,
where a dense piece of wood being let into the beam of timber,
had the effect of increasing its power of resisting transverse
fracture. With the knowledge of these facts, were we to pro
ceed to examine all the different bones of the skeleton, we
should find, everywhere, that the form was in strict relation
either to the motion to be performed, or the strain to which the
bone was most exposed.
In comparing the true bones of the higher animals with the
coverings of insects, we observed the necessity for the former
being of a porous structure ; and how inferior they were in

196 MECHANICAL PROPERTIES OF BONE.
strength from that cause. If the texture of a bone be very
dense, it will not re-unite, upon being fractured ; and, if ex
posed, it will die. Here, then, is an obvious defect : the bones
of animals cannot be made capable of sustaining great weight,
without losing a property necessary to their existence — that of
restoration on being injured. And even were the material very
much condensed, it does not appear that the phosphate of lime,
united as it is with the animal matter, would be capable of
withstanding great compression. Accordingly, a limit is put to
the size of animals. This may, perhaps, countenance the belief
that, in size and duration of life, animals bear a relation to the
powers and Life of man — that it was only in a former condition
of the world, that creatures of the greatest dimensions could
exist. Our allusion here is to such animals only as have their
huge bulk resting on extremities ; for, with respect to the whale,
it lies out buoyed and supported in the water. Some of those
great fossil animals, the remains of which are found in the
secondary strata, are estimated to have been seventy feet in
length ; and they had extremities ; but the thigh and leg did
not exceed eight feet in length, while the foot extended to six
feet ; a proportion which implies that the extremities assisted
the animal to crawl, rather than to bear its weight, like the ex
tremities of the mammalia. However, in the larger terrestrial
animals, the material of the bones is found to be dense, and
their cavities filled up ; the diameters of thosQ of the extremities,
together with their spines and processes, being remarkably in
creased. Nothing can be conceived more clumsy than the bones
of the megatherium. Hence it really appears as if nature had
exhausted her resources, with respect to this material : that
living and vascular bone could not be moulded into a form
capable of sustaining the bulk and weight of an animal much
superior in size to the elephant, mastodon, or megatherium.
[The subject may be illustrated in this manner : — A soft
stone projecting from a wall, may make a stile strong enough
to bear a person's weight ; but if it be necessary to double the
length of the stile, the thickness must be more than doubled,
or a freestone substituted : and were it necessary to make this
freestone project twice as far from the wall, it would not be
strong enough to bear a proportioned increase of weight, even
if doubled in thickness ; granite must be placed in its stead ;

OF THE JOINTS. 197
and even granite would not be capable of sustaining four times
the weight which the soft stone bore in the first instance. In
the same way, the stones which form an arch, of a large span,
must be of the hardest granite, or their own weight will crush
them. The same principle is applicable to the bones of ani
mals : the material of bone is too soft to admit of an indefinite
increase of weight. It is another illustration of what was
before stated, that a relation is established through all nature ;
that the structure of the very animals which move upon the
surface of the earth is proportioned to its magnitude, and the
gravitation to its centre.] OF THE JOINTS.
With regard to the articulation of the bones at the joints, we
cannot mistake the reason why the surfaces of contact should
be enlarged; the expansion of the ends of the bones makes
them sit more securely upon each other, thereby diminishing
the danger of dislocation. And this advantage is gained with
out detriment to the motion of the joint. In machinery, when
the weight or pressure are the same, an increase in the extent
of the surfaces in contact does not add to the friction. For
example, if a stone, or piece of timber, of the shape of a book
or a brick, be laid upon a flat surface, and -drawn across it,
it will be moved with equal facility whether it rest upon its
edge, or upon its side. In the same manner, the friction be
tween the articular surfaces of the bones of the knee-joint, is
not increased by their greater diameter ; while obvious advan
tages result from their additional breadth : the ligaments knit
the bones more strongly; and the tendons being removed to a
distance from the centre of motion, more power is given to the
action of the muscles.
[In comparing the skeleton with carpentry, or with anything
artificial that may admit of comparison with it, we remark an
absence of straight lines or regular forms in the various bones,
whether they serve the purposes of shafts, axles, or levers;
while, in the mechanism made by man, every part is levelled
and squared, or formed according to some geometrical line or
curve. This, as we have said, leads the superficial thinker to
conclude, that the bones are formed irregularly, .or without
reference to principle. But the consideration of by Whom

198 OF THE JOINTS.
formed, leads to a review; and a deeper examination brings
with it the conviction that the curves, spines, and protuber
ances of the bones, where they enter into the joints, are formed
with a relation to the weight which they bear, and the thrusts
and twists to which they are subjected, in the different motions
of the body. If we observe the various postures of a man at
any manual labour, or under a weight, or running, or leaping,
or wrestling, we shall be convinced that no carpentry of the
bones, formed according to geometrical lines or curves, could
suit all this variety of motion. No splicing, dove-tailing, cog
ging, or any of all the various shapes into which the carpenter
or joiner cuts his material, could enable them to withstand
the motions of the body, where it is so utterly impossible
to estimate the forces, or to calculate upon the variety in their
direction. That the varieties in the forms of the joints are not irregular
or accidental, but are related to the motions to be performed,
is apparent in the close examination of the human skeleton ;
and it is still more clearly evinced by comparative anatomy.
To comprehend the fine adjustment of each bone in its articu
lation, we should require to go more minutely into the anatomy
than is suitable to this work. Then we should find with what
curious mechanical adaptation the motions are permitted in the
prescribed direction, and checked in every other. We should
observe how the motions of one joint are related to those of
another; and how, by the combination of joints, each of which
is securely checked and strengthened, facility and extent of
motion are produced in the whole : for example, in the arm
and hand, where the motions are free, and varied in every pos
sible direction.
It is interesting to see how the joints of the lower extremities
in man are modified, in comparison with those of the upper.
We have elsewhere remarked that the bones of the human
pelvis, thigh, and leg exceed those of all other animals in rela
tive size ; which is a provision for the erect position of man.
The same design is evinced in the form of the ankle, knee, and
hip-joints. Whilst in their combination they give every neces
sary degree of motion consistent with security, there is a happy
adaptation of each to produce at once firmness and mobility.
That is to say, when the limb is thrown forward in walking or

OP THE MUSCULAR AND ELASTIC FORCES. 199
running, the whole member is loose, and capable of being freely
directed; so that we plant it with every convenience to the
irregularity of the ground ; but when the body is carried for
ward, and the weight comes to be perpendicular over the limb,
it acquires, by the curious adjustment of the bones, a firmness
equal to that of a post. Again, when the body is still further
thrown forward, and the limb is disencumbered of the weight
of the body, the joints are let loose, so as to be bent easily, and
to obey the action of the muscles.]
OF THE MUSCULAR AND ELASTIC FORCES.
Elastic ligaments are liberally supplied in the human spine :
a range of peculiar ligaments run along the course of the column,
and are highly elastic. The ligamentum nuchce is that ligament
which extends from the prominence of the spine between the
shoulders, to the back of the head ; and the student who hangs
his head over his book, enjoys the advantage of this elastic
support. We may trace the same ligament, wit,h increasing
strength, from that which sustains a man's head, to the powerful
elastic structure in the neck of the elephant, which, like the
spring of a steel-yard, weighs against its immense head and
tusks. These elastic ligaments vary with the length and motion of
the neck. It would be tedious to describe their varieties in the
camel, camelopard, ostrich, <fcc. We may be satisfied with the
fact, that the elastic ligament is a structure extensively used in
the animal textures ; generally coming in aid of the muscles, or
as a substitute for them.
The muscular power is contrasted with the elastic, as being a
property of motion possessed exclusively by a living part, the
muscular fibre. We acquiesce in the distinction, since the fibre
ceases to have irritability or power after death ; while the elastic
structures retain their peculiar quality. But yet there is a pro
perty in the elasticity of the living body, which cannot be pre
served after death. To illustrate this, let us take the instance
of the catgut string of a harp, and suppose that it is screwed
tightly, so as to vibrate in a given time, and sound the note
correctly; if it be struck rudely, it will be put out of tune; that
is it will be stretched and somewhat relaxed, and no longer
vibrate in time. But this will not take place in the living elastic

200 ELASTIC STRUCTURES.
fibre ; in it there is a power of restoring the property. If we
see the tuner screwing up the harp-string, and with difficulty,
and after repeated trials, with the tuning-fork, and with his
utmost acquired skill, bringing it to its due tension, and restor
ing it to its former elasticity, we have a demonstration of ^ how
much Life is performing, after every act of over-exertion, in re
pairing the fibres of the animal frame. The more powerful the
active forces of the body are, the more carefully is the proper
tension of the tendons, ligaments, and heart-cords preserved.
Or we may take the example of a steel spring. A piece of
steel, heated to a white heat, and plunged into cold water, ac
quires certain properties; and if heated again to 500° of Fahren
heit, it becomes elastic; possessing what is called a "spring
temper," so that it will recoil and vibrate. But if this spring be
bent in a degree too much, it will be deprived of part of its elas
ticity. In the living body, should a similar thing happen to one
of the elastic structures, it has a power of restoration, which the
steel has not.
[The safeguard against the excess of muscular power is in the
elasticity of the parts. This is obvious in the limbs and general
texture of the frame ; but it is most p'erf ectly exhibited in the
organs of circulation. If the action of the Heart impelled the
blood against parts of solid structure, they would quickly yield
When, by accident, this does take place, even the dense bone is
very soon destroyed. But the coats of the artery which receive
the rush of blood from the heart, although thin, are limber and
elastic ; and by this elasticity or yielding, they take off or sub
due the shock of the heart's action, while no force is lost ; for as
the elastic artery has yielded to the sudden impulse of the heart,
it contracts by elasticity in the interval of the heart's pulsation ;
and the blood continues to be propelled onward in the course of
the circulation, without interruption, though regularly accele
rated by the pulse of the heart.
If a steam-engine were used to force water along pipes, with
out the intervention of some elastic body, the water would not
flow continuously, but in jerks; therefore, a reservoir is con
structed, containing air, into which the water is forced, against
the elasticity of the air. Thus, each stroke of the piston is not
perceptibly communicated to the conduit-pipe, because the inter
vals are supplied by the resilience of the compressed air. The

ELASTIC STRUCTURES. 201
office of the reservoir containing air, is performed in the animal
body by the . elasticity of the coats of the arteries ; by which
means the blood flows uninterruptedly into the arteries, and has
a continuous flow in the veins beyond them.
But as life advances, the arterial system loses much of its
elasticity, and becomes rigid. This is so common an occurrence
that we can no more call it a disease than the stiffened joints of
an old man ; it is the forerunner or the accompaniment of the
decline of life. Sometimes this change takes place too early in
life, and to an extreme degree ; and from its effects we must call
it morbid ; for it not unfrequently happens that the muscular
power of the heart being still entire and vigorous, the arteries
can no longer withstand it. They have lost that power which,
yielding to the heart's action, resists, recoils, and the more it
gives way, the more it takes off the suddenness of the shock ;
which, in yielding, wastes no power, since the recoil gives as
much force to the acceleration of the blood, as was lost of the
heart's action. The artery, then, being rigid, yields indeed to
the heart's impulse, but has no rebound. It becomes perma
nently dilated or enlarged ; and is called aneurismal. A stronger
beat of the heart, excited by inordinate action or passion, chips
and bursts the now rigid coats of the artery. If the breach be
gradual, a pouch forms — a true aneurism. And here is the proof
we require ; for this bag coming to pulsate upon the solid bones,
they are absorbed. That action of the heart, which was so
lightly and so easily borne whilst the vessels were elastic, now
beating upon a solid structure, in a short time destroys it. Thus,
from what takes place on a very slight derangement of the pro
perties of the parts, we are led to a more accurate knowledge of
the fine adjustment of the active and resisting properties in the
circulating vessels, during youth and health.
A piece of rope, of a new patent, has been shown to us, which
is said to be many times stronger than any other rope of a like
diameter. It is so far formed upon the same principle as the
tendon of a muscle, that the strands are plaited, instead of being
twisted : but the tendon has still a superiority ; for the lesser
yarns of each strand in it, are interwoven with those of other
strands. It may be asked, however, do not the tendons of the
human body sometimes break? They do; and in circum
stances which only add to the interest of the subject. By the

202

ELASTIC STRUCTURES.

exercise of the tendons, (and their exercise is the act of being
pulled upon by the muscles, or having a strain on them,) they
get firmer and stronger; but in the failure of muscular activity,
they become less capable of resisting the tug made upon them ;
and if, after a long confinement, a man has some powerful ex
citement to muscular exertion, then the tendon breaks. An old
gentleman, whose habits have been staid and sedentary, and
who is very guarded in his walk, is upon an annual festival
tempted to join the young people in a dance ; then he breaks his
tendo Achillis. This reminds us that we are speaking of a liv
ing body ; and that, in estimating the mechanical properties, we
ought not to forget the influence of Life, and the law that the
natural exercise of the parts, whether they be active or passive.
is the stimulus to the circulation through them, and to their
growth and perfection.]

•^

"*:. . . \ *

-¦')'¦,'¦ ^"'r.V'- c=V----3.: *"^*;'r

ON THE POSITION OF THE HEAD OF ANIMALS, AND
ITS RELATION TO THE SPINE.
To illustrate the proposition, that " aU. parts of the skeleton are correlated ;
and that the variations in their form depend on the functions."
It has been shown in the text, when treating of the upper or
anterior extremity, that the changes of form exhibited in differ
ent animals, may be referred to one principle— the adaptation of
the parts to their proper uses. The head, in certain animals,
may be considered as performing in some measure the office of
hands. Now, if we adopt this view, we shall be able to judge
more correctly how far it holds true that the centre of the skele
ton, to which the head belongs, remains permanent in its form,
compared with the extreme parts.
We have seen that it is the opinion of some naturalists, that
all the varieties in the conformation of the skeleton admit of
being explained according to a law, by which the central parts
preserve an uniform shape, whilst the extremities are incident
to change. That opinion I shall controvert, and show that
although the spine and head, in retaining their office, common
to all vertebrated animals, of protecting the brain and spinal
marrow, ar^e permanent in regard to them, yet they vary in the
shapes of their processes, and in their relations to the adjacent
parts. Pursuing that idea, we shall be able to account for the
characteristic forms of animals.
The principle, then, which will guide us, both here and in a
more universal survey of animal nature, is, that the organisa
tion varies in correspondence with the condition in which the
animal is placed, in reference to procuring food, and multiply
ing its species. If we consider any of the great functions on
which life depends, we shall perceive that the apparatus is
altered and adapted to every changing circumstance. Diges
tion, for example, is the same in all animals ; but the organisa
tion presents numerous interesting varieties. Whether it be in
the quadruped, the bird, the fish, or the insect, the stomach

204 VARIATIONS IN THE CENTRE
varies both in its form and the number of its cavities, in accord
ance with the nature of the food which it receives. And the
variation does not depend upon the size or form of the animal :
it is adapted purely to the conversion of its particular food into
nourishment : the gizzard of the fish, or of the insect, is as per
fect as that of the fowl. So with the decarbonisation of the
blood in breathing : the process of throwing off the carbon is
the same in all living animals ; but the mode in which respira
tion is performed varies according to circumstances ; the ap
paratus is especially modified and adjusted, according as it is
carried on in the atmosphere or the water.
But although the organs subservient to the grand func
tions, — the heart and blood-vessels, the lungs, the stomach, —
be variously adapted to the different classes of animals, they
change much less than the parts by which animals are enabled
to pursue their prey or obtain their food. Their extremities,
by which they walk, or run, or creep, or cling, must vary infi
nitely. And so their teeth and horns, and the position of their
head, and the strength of their neck, exhibit nearly as much
variety as their proper extremities; because these parts like
wise must be adapted to their different modes of obtaining food,
or of combating their enemies.
Following this principle, therefore, let us observe the forms
of some of the more remarkably-shaped animals, and endeavour
to explain their meaning. When we look upon the boar's head,
its form alone enables us to comprehend something of the habits
of the animal ; we see the direction in which he will employ his
strength. He lives by digging up roots ; and the instruments
by which he feeds are also those by which he defends himself —
the position of his tusks protects his eyes in rushing through
the underwood; but the formation of the skull, and of the
spine, and the mass of muscle in the neck, all show the intention
of his configuration to be, that he may drive onward with his
whole weight and strength, and rend with his tusks. Accord
ingly, the back part of the skull rises in remarkable spines or
ridges for the attachment of muscles ; and corresponding with
them, the spinous processes of the vertebrae of the neck and
back are of extraordinary length and strength. Processes of
such dimensions as these distinctly indicate the immense power
of the muscles which pass from the neck to the head. We now

AND THE EXTREMITIES. 205
understand the reason of the shortness and inflexibility of the
neck of the boar; it is so formed because the strength of the
shoulders is directed to the head, or, we may say, to the large
tusks. An elongated and flexible neck would have rendered
these implements useless. The characteristic form of the wild
boar, then, consists in the height of the back, the shortness and
thickness of the neck, the wedge shape of the head, the projec
tion of the tusks, and the shortness of the fore-legs, which must
always be in proportion to the neck
Thus we perceive that the skull, unaffected in its office of con
taining and protecting the brain, is yet subject to variations in
its form and place, according to its other functions ; — that it is
adapted, just as the extremities are, to the animal's mode of
life. In the same manner, we see the spine permanent in its
office as a tube to protect the spinal marrow, but yet varying
in its processes and articulations, as they bear a reference to the
skull In short, although these be the very central parts of all,
they undergo changes of form in due accommodation to the
whole skeleton.
What a complete contrast there is between the wild boar and
any of the feline tribe ! But it is a contrast of form and motion,
at once referable to their spine. In the tiger or leopard, the
perfect flexibility of the body, and the almost vermicular motion
of the spine, correspond to the teeth and jaws, and the free use
of the paws.
The peculiarity of the elephant's configuration has been hap
pily illustrated by Cuvier : and the principle may be pursued in
a manner interesting both to the naturalist and geologist.
In ourselves, we may feel between the shoulders a certain
projection of the spine, which is called the vertebra prominens ;
and if we stoop forward, as in reading a book which lies upon
the table, a ligament will be felt extending from that process to
the back of the head. This ligament suspends the head, and
relieves the muscles. But as man for the most part carries his
head balanced on the extremity of the spine, or can vary its re
lation under fatigue, the strength of that suspensory ligament
is not to be compared with the corresponding part in quadru
peds; where, from the horizontal position of the spine, the
head always hangs : and where there would be a great waste of
muscular exertion, but for the interposition of this elastic liga-

206

VARIATIONS IN THE CENTRE

ment. In the horse it is long and strong ; and the admirable
thing is, the accurate adjustment of the elasticity of this liga
ment to the weight and position of the head : the head is nicely
balanced by it, as on a steelyard. With this circumstance in
our mind, let us observe the peculiar form of the elephant.
1. As in treating of the boar, we begin again by observing the
teeth. Now, one grinder tooth of the elephant weighs seventeen
pounds ; * and of these there are four in the skull, besides the
rudiments of others. 2. We next observe how admirably these
teeth are suited to sus
tain great pressure and
attrition. 3. The jaws
must be constructed of
a sufficient size, not
only to afford a deep
socketing to the teeth,
but to give lodgment to
muscles strong enough
to move this large
grinding machine. 4
The animal must be
provided for its de
fence too. Now each
of the tusks sometimes
weighs as much as one
hundred and thirteen
pounds : and project
ing as they do, they
may be considered as
placed at the extremity
of a long lever. 5. If
this enormous and heavy head had hung on the end of a
neck of anything like the proportions in the horse, the pressure
on the anterior extremities would have been inordinate ; and
more than four times the expenditure of muscular power would
have been necessary to the motion of the head. 6. What has
been the resource of nature ? There are seven vertebras of the
neck in this animal (the same number that we count in the
* The natural tooth weighed seventeen pounds, the fossil tooth sixteen-
and-a-half pounds.

AND THE EXTREMITIES. 207
giraffe) ; but these bones are compressed into a small space in a
very remarkable manner ; and thus the head is brought close
upon the body, so as to appear a part of the body, without the
interposition of any neck. 7. But the animal must feed : and
since its head, owing to the short neck, cannot reach the ground,
it must possess an instrument, like a hand, in the proboscis —
to minister to the mouth, to grasp the herbage, and lift it to its
Dps.* Thus we perceive that the conformation of the elephant,
as regards the peculiar character of his figure, in the shoulders
and head, in the closeness of the head to the body, in the posses
sion of the proboscis, and the defence of that proboscis by the
projecting tusks, — is a necessary adaptation to the great weight
of the head, and, indeed, of the general large size of the animal
We may carry the inquiry a little further, to the effect of
elucidating a very curious part of natural history. The Masto
don is the name of an extinct animal, which must have been
nearly of the same size as the elephant. It has received that
name from the early familiarity of naturalists with the teeth ;
which have upon their surfaces of contact mamillary-shaped
projections. It was supposed, at one time, that these teeth
belonged to a carnivorous animal But a portion of the upper
jaw, with the teeth preserved in it, being found, it admitted of
this course of reasoning : — In the superior maxillary bone of all
vertebrated animals, there is a hole for transmitting a branch
of the fifth nerve which goes to the upper lip ;t when, however,
as in the elephant, a great proboscis is added to the lip, it
follows that, as that organ possesses its sensibility through the
same branch of the fifth, not only will the nerve itself be pro-
portionably large, but the hole through which it is trans
mitted, will be increased in diameter. Accordingly, when a
fragment of the upper jaw-bone in which that hole is preserved
is found, we can infer from the greater size of the orifice, that
the nerve supplied more than a mere upper lip— that, as in the
case of the mastodon, the animal had a proboscis, and was a
species of elephant.
Let us consider the principle in another light. How are the
* Anguimanus, was a name given to the elephant by Lucretius :—
" The beast who hath between his eyes
The serpent lor a hand."
t See puge 103.

208

OF THE ELK.

neck and head of an animal accommodated to feeding, when
the neck is short, and there is no proboscis ? The elk is a
strange, uncouth animal — principally from the setting on of its
head. The weight of the horns is enormous : and if the head
and horns were placed at the extremity of an elongated neck,
it would be preposterous ; they would, in fact, overbalance the
body. It is for that reason, we presume, that the head is so
curiously approximated to the trunk. We observe, in the next
place, a want of relation between the fore-legs and the neck —
that the legs are of great length, while the neck is extremely
short. Now it is interesting to find that the animal does not
browse upon the herbage at its feet ; it feeds off the sides of the

rocks ! A very remarkable proof of the incapacity of this ani
mal to feed in the common way, was afforded by an accident
which befell a fine male specimen confined in the Zoological
Gardens. To reach the ground, on which his food was unin
tentionally scattered, he had to extend out his fore-legs laterally;

OF THE GIRAFFE. 209
In this position his foot slipped, he dislocated his shoulder, and
died of the accident.
Contrasted in a most remarkable manner with the elk, we
have the giraffe. The giraffe feeds upon the branches of lofty
trees ; and the whole constitution and form of the animal are
provided to enable it to reach high — the fore-legs are long, the
neck still longer, the head is remarkably small and light, and
the tongue has a power of elongation which no other quadruped
possesses. The tongue, indeed, is not inaptly compared with
the trunk of the elephant ; it can be extended seventeen inches ;
it can be twisted about so as to resemble a long black worm; and
it is used with extraordinary dexterity, in picking up a straw, as
well as pulling down a branch. The relative proportions of the
skeleton of the giraffe are full of interest, as showing the accom
modation in the structure to the necessities of the animal.
And, first, of the head : if we have the skull of the giraffe
before us, and compare it with that of the camel or horse, we
shall be struck with the delicacy of the bony textures of the
former, with its being' cellular, thin, and light as a paper case.
Now, can there be anything more obvious than that this light
ness of texture is provided in consequence of the extraordinary
length of the neck ? Had the skull of the giraffe been as strong
and heavy as that of the horse or camel, it would have prepon
derated too much at the extremity of such a neck.
Secondly, as to the spine : there is an accommodation in tho
form and position of this part also. In most quadrupeds, the
spine lies horizontally : but if the bones had been so placed in
the giraffe, the whole weight of the shoulders, neck, and head
would have been thrown on the anterior extremities. This, how
ever, is prevented by the anterior extremities being much longer
than the posterior : whence it results that the trunk is placed in
an oblique, or semi-erect position ; and, accordingly, a portion of
the weight of the neck and head, parts which in other creatures
are sustained altogether by the fore-legs, falls upon the hind-legs*
Thirdly, on looking to the ribs, we observe another peculiarity
of form • which may be accounted for on the same consideration
of the length, and consequent weight, of the neck and head.
The chest is supported, of course, upon the anterior extremities :
* The ligamentum nuchse in this I the spine, from the os sacrum to the
animal extends the whole length of | skull.
o

210

OF THE HIPPOPOTAMUS AND CAMEL.

but the ribs in front, which rest upon the legs and bear the
principal pressure, are of great comparative strength ; while the
posterior ones, by their delicacy, weakness, and mobility in
breathing, present a singular contrast to them. In short, the
fore part of the chest, which in a manner intervenes between the
neck and anterior extremities, requires its compages to be par
ticularly firm and strong, for supporting the superincumbent
weight: while the motions -of respiration are performed chiefly
by the posterior ribs.
Although the proportions between the neck and the legs, in
this creature, may seem to be duly preserved, yet he is not
suited to browse the grass : his proper food is the leaves on the
high branches of trees. In attempting to reach the ground with
his mouth, his limbs appear to be in danger of suffering disloca
tion ; he extends his feet laterally, elevates the scapulas, draws
in the crupper, and stretches the neck, so as to present a very
ludicrous figure.

Camel and Hippopotamus.

We have nere a sketch of the skeletons of the hippopotamus
and of the camel, as they stood accidentally contrasted in the

OF THE HORSE'S HEAD. 211
Museum. The head of the hippopotamus is of great strength
and weight, and it is appended to a short neck ; in the shortness
of its legs also, we see the correspondence which we have had
occasion to remark between the position of the head, and the
height of the trunk from the ground. The form of the camel is,
in every respect, different. This animal must have rapidity
and ease of motion on the ground : which qualities are secured
by the length of the extremities ; and in accordance with the
extremities, are the elongated neck and lightly-formed head.
Here, then, is the skeleton of an animal, properly terrestrial ; it
is accommodated to other peculiarities of its organisation con
nected with its living on arid plains ; and is admirably adapted
for a rapid and long-continued course. The hippopotamus, on
the other hand, seeks its safety in the water ; and its uncouth
form and weight are suited to that element.
Of the Horse's Head. — It is perhaps better to draw our
arguments from what is familiar and constantly before us : let
us then take the form of the horse's head. Some have affirmed
that the sound of neighing is produced in two sets' of membra
nous chambers in the horse's head, called the Eustachian cavities.
That name has been given to these cavities, because they com
municate with the tubes termed Eustachian tubes, which lead
from the throat to the ear. But that is a very unsatisfactory
account of the cavities in question. We are of opinion that
their use is connected with the weight of the head, the length
of the neck, and the power of mastication of the animal. It is
a .very remarkable circumstance that a horse, whose " points "
are approved of by the jockey, will starve in a grass field. By
a system of crossing, the breeder will contrive, in a manner
almost artificial, to combine the incidental defects of nature, so
as to make the proportions of a horse correspond with his own
ideas of perfection ; and as a notion prevails that a short neck
and small head are excellences, inasmuch as the weight upon
the fore-feet is thereby diminished, it has sometimes happened
that the neck has become too short; so that the animal has
actually been unable to reach the ground, in grazing. Having
observed that splints, corns, sandcracks, whitters, inflammations,
and other diseases of the horse's foot, belong almost exclusively
to the anterior extremity, they have attributed these to the
weight of the head and neck, in conjunction with the artificial

212 OF THE HORSES HEAD.
condition of the horse : for were it, they say, the shoeing and
hard roads alone that produced these bad effects, they would
have been equally perceptible in the hind-feet. Such considera
tions tend to show the importance of the peculiarity now to be
pointed out in the horse's skull.
On looking to the horse's head in profile, we see that its pecu
liar form, especially the great depth of its jaws posteriorly, is a
necessary consequence of the length of the grinding teeth. We
have already noticed the magnitude and weight of the elephant's
head, in correspondence with its enormous teeth, provided for
the attrition of its food : and if we apply the same rule to the
head of the horse, we shall see how curiously it accounts for the
peculiar shape of the skull. Like the elephant, the horse is
graminivorous ; and the structure of the teeth evinces how well
calculated tbey are for mastication, without wearing. To enable
the teeth to bear great pressure, they are socketed very deeply
in the jaw; and as the strength of the muscles of mastication is
applied not merely to close the jaws, as in the carnivorous ani
mal, but to grind, or to rub the teeth both laterally and to and
fro, extraordinary space is provided in the jaws, for the lodgement
of the powerful muscle called masseter ; a muscle which has the
double action of closing the teeth, and of drawing the lower jaw
across the upper. Here, then, we have the reason for that great
square portion of the jaw under the ear, which peculiarly dis
tinguishes the horse's head : the bone is large, so as to give both
a deep socketing to the molar teeth, and an extensive attach
ment to the muscles. Now, although the maxillary and nasal
cavities in the horse are very capacious, yet the space which they
take up does not suffice to occupy the remarkable depth of the
lower jaw. In fact, the larynx and pharynx, the organs con
tained in that space, cannot fill up the whole depth of the head
at this part ; there is a great deal of room in the skull neither
required for the lodgement of the brain, nor for the bony cavities
of the nose, nor for the pharynx, nor the larynx; but solely
resulting from the great size of the jaws. Had this space been
occupied by solid bone, it would have added materially to the
weight of the head. Accordingly it has been filled up by the
two great membranous cells, the Eustachian cavities ; which
receive air into them by communicating with the cavities of the
nose. On the whole, then, we may consider these large cells in

OF THE SPERMACETI WHALE. 213
the horse's head, as permitting the enlargement of the jaw-bone
at its back part, so as to afford a deep socketing for the grind
ing teeth, and a sufficient lodgement for the powerful muscles
employed in mastication, without increasing very considerably
the solid material of the head. As in birds, advantage is here
taken of the admission of air, to increase the volume and
strength of the parts, without adding to the weight. We now
perceive that, if the horse's skull had been formed without
these membranous air-cells, there would have been a positive
defect, especially in the running horse; for the head would
have greatly exceeded in weight; the animal would not have
been properly balanced upon its extremities ; and the weight
upon the fore-feet would have been so much increased, as to
have rendered him still more liable to those diseases of the foot
to which his artificial condition subjects him.
This provision for making the head of the horse lighter, has
a parallel in the head of the spermaceti whale. The spermaceti
whale, a species of the physeter or cachelot, has a very large
head ; it is remarkable also for possessing teeth ; the common
whale having only whalebone in its mouth for teeth. Now,
from the great size and length of the head, loaded as it is with
teeth and jaw-bones, ponderous and dense in proportion, and
from the lungs being situated too far behind the centre of
gravity, it would have followed that the animal could not raise
itself to the surface of the sea, for breathing : accordingly, large
cavities in the head (twelve feet long, and four feet deep) are
filled with spermaceti, a material lighter than water; by this
means the head is rendered buoyant, and the equilibrium of the
animal is maintained.
Although the changes in the shape of the skulls of animals
principally affect their anterior part, that is, the bones of the
face, yet the slighter deviations behind, if minutely scanned,
may indicate much. For example, among other interesting
specimens of fossil bones, the portion of a skull was found in
the caves of the limestone rock near Plymouth. It consisted
merely of the condyles or articulating processes of the skull,
which join it to the vertebrae of the neck ; together with parts
of the occipital and temporal bones. Yet from that alone it
could be ascertained that the fragment belonged to an hyasna :
although its proportions were double those of the corresponding

214 OF THE HY.ENA'S JAWS.
parts of the largest recent species. First, the high spine indi
cated great muscular power in the neck ; secondly, the depth
and extent of the fossa or hollow for the lodgement of the tem
poral muscle, proved that there was a remarkable mass, and
consequent strength of muscle, for closing the jaws ; thirdly,
that the fragment belonged neither to the bear nor the tiger,
was shown by the extraordinary thickness and density of the
whole bone. In this last respect, the portion of bone corre
sponded with that of no animal but the hyaena ; for the entire
skull of the hysena participates in the strength which belongs
so remarkably to its teeth ; these being capable of breaking
the hardest and largest bones.*
In treating of the jaw-bones and teeth of the hyaena found
in a fossil state, Dr Buckland has given us an example of the
mode of drawing deductions from such a subject, not inferior
to the best specimen of similar reasoning by Cuvier. While
lecturing on the comparative anatomy of the skeleton, I have
put the subject in this light : — " All nature, we have seen, is
full of life ; and wherever food is to be obtained, there ani
mals are, suited in structure to reach it. Suppose the horse run
down by wolves, and his carcass consumed by lesser carnivo
rous quadrupeds, and birds of prey ; there is still left, in the
large cylindrical bones, an abundance of nutriment ; which, how
ever, these animals cannot get at. Turn your attention, then, to
the skull of the hyaena ; it presents great clumsiness and weight,
contrasted with that of the dog, the wolf, or the bear. Next,
observe the teeth ; you see that they are conical — which is the
very form of strength ; and that by their abundant enamel, they
are case-hardened on the exterior. In proportion to the power
of resistance of the teeth, are the size and density of the jaws.
Again, this hollow for lodging the temporal muscle, which
closes the jaws ; and this prominence of the zygomatic arch,
which gives attachment to another muscle of the same class,
produce together that extraordinary breadth of the face which
is characteristic of this very ugly animal. And, corresponding
with the strength of its teeth, jaws, and muscles, you see how
much thicker and denser in its texture the whole skull is, than
in other animals : as if to show, by the supporting frame-work
* This specimen is in the Museum I beautifully drawn in Mr Clift's paper
of the College of Surgeons, and is [ in the Philosophical Transactions.

OF THE SPINE. 215
the strength of the engine ; an engine capable of breaking these
powerful cylindrical bones of the larger animals, and of disclos
ing a rich repast in the marrow they contain."
[Of the Spine. — As the skull thus exhibits a freedom in
changing its form, when required by its application to new
offices, so it is with the spine ; which, according to the theory
we are considering, is still more centrally placed than the SkulL
It is true that the spine presents a general uniformity of shape
and appearance. As the spinal marrow belongs to the whole
class of vertebrated animals, and must be protected by the bony
canal which we call the spine, the principal use of the part be
ing permanent, so also must its form be permanent. But
whenever there is a change in the action, or rather the play of
the spine, we find the vertebrae conforming to that action.
Thus the progress of a fish through the water, results mainly
from lateral movements of the spine and of the tail. Now, were
the constituent bones formed like those of other vertebrata,
the processes on each side would lock together, and interfere
with these motions ; they are, therefore, kept subordinate ; while
other processes, required to give varied and extensive origin to
the numerous muscles, are elongated in a more remarkable and
diversified manner than is to be found in any other animals.
In the whale, dolphin, <fec, the position of the tail differs from
that in the fish : its flat surface is placed horizontally instead of
vertically, which is to accommodate it to the important func
tion of respiration ; for these inhabitants of the sea must rise
to the surface to breathe the air, and their tails are thus directed
to enable them to elevate the head above the water.
In quadrupeds, the tail is the prolongation of the spine ; and
here the advocates of the theory think they have a strong case.
Because the bones constituting the tail become smaller and
rounder towards the end, and terminate in cartilage, in which
there is no bone, it is thought to confirm the law— that parts,
when repeated, become more and more imperfect as they recede
from the centre. But is it not obvious that the tail is con
structed with a view to its proper purpose : firm towards the
root and large enough for the attachment of muscles which
shall play it about in all directions ; but less firm, and more
lithe and elastic towards the end, for it to carry the brush ?
Can anything be better adapted for its peculiar uses ? Would

216 VARIETIES IN THE SPINE
it have been more perfect, if, instead of a series of round bones
joined together, there had been a set of vertebras, fully formed,
with all their projecting processes ? In short, shall we conceal
from ourselves the admirable adaptation of this appendage to
its various offices — sometimes used as a mantle to coil round the
animal for warmth— sometimes as a rudder in running— some
times as a fan or switch, reaching where neither the ear nor the
tongue can touch— all to favour an hypothesis of animal bodies
being constituted so imperfectly that if a part, like a vertebra, be
formed in the centre, and be repeated or prolonged, each link,
as it recedes, becomes less and less perfect, degenerating from
what is gratuitously assumed to be its original form ?
The spine is the most perfect structure in the whole animal
machine. Perhaps, if our words were critically taken, it would
be better to say, that the intention of the curious mechanical
structure was here the most apparent, and on that account, most
the object of our admiration. Besides binding the bones of the
skeleton together, and forming, as it were, the very centre of the
whole, the spine is a tube, for protecting the most vital organ of
all — the spinal marrow. But, again, in man, the spine has a
new office imposed upon it ; in correspondence with his privi
lege of carrying himself erect, it is a pillar for sustaining, not
only the superior parts of the body, but the globe of the head,
which we shall find it protects in a very unexpected manner.
Our admiration, then, arises from being able to perceive the
modes by which these different offices are performed by the con
struction of this column : how nature has reconciled the most
opposite and inconsistent functions in one set of bones ; — for
the vertebras are so strong, as not to suffer under the longest
fatigue or the greatest weight which the limbs can bear ; and so
flexible, as to perform the chief turnings and bendings of the
body ; and yet so steady withal, as to contain and defend the
most material and the most delicate part of the nervous system,
In some animals, the lowest of the vertebrata, the protecting
texture of the spinal marrow hardly deserves the name of verte
bral column. In certain fishes — for example, the myxine, lam
prey, sturgeon, <fec. — the spine consists of a cartilage, made tough
by ligamentous intertexture. , In the myxine, this cartilage does
not entirely enclose the spinal marrow ; for it lies in a deep
groove on the upper part of the spire. But let us not suppose

ACCORDING TO ITS USES. 217
that in fishes there is any imperfection in the vertebral column :
it is an elastic structure on which the muscles act so as to be
come the means of powerful locomotion ; and in all fishes the
spine has, more or less, this remarkable elasticity. Ascending
in the scale of animals, we find the cartilage forming the spinal
column subdivided by cavities, which contain a gelatinous fluid ;
and these cavities being surrounded with a strong but elastic
ligamentous covering, nothing can be conceived more admirably
adapted to give a springiness to the whole column. Still ascend
ing, we discover that the bony matter becomes deposited be
tween these cavities ; and here the separate vertebrae first appear.
If two vertebras of the great shark be taken out together, and
the sac between them punctured, such is the elasticity of the
walls of this sac, that the fluid will be spouted out to a distance.
In other fishes, as the cod-fish, (an osseous fish,) the structure ap
proaches to that of the mammalia ; the intervertebral substance
is gelatinous. In the whales, circular concentric ligaments join
the vertebrae, and a small portion in the centre consists of a
glairy matter. In mammalia, and in man, there are strong and
distinct bones — the vertebras ; and these are joined by a liga
mentous cartilage, the outer circle of which is remarkably strong,
and the central soft and elastic. The toughness and strength of
the exterior circle, and the soft condition of the centre, make a
joint equivalent in action to what might be produced by a ball
intervening between the surfaces : a facility of motion is thus
bestowed which no form of solid could give ; and yet the joint
is so strong, that the bone breaks from violence, but the liga
mentous cartilage never gives way. When the veterinary sur
geon casts a horse, if he be not careful to restrain him, he will
twist himself with a force which will break the vertebras : frac
ture is a frequent accident in man ; but the texture that gives
mobility to the spine never yields.
The next thing admirable in the spine is the manner in which
the head is sustained on an elastic column, whereby the brain is
saved from undue concussion in the movements of the body.
This object is not attained altogether through the elastic sub
stance which we have described as intervening between the
bones ; it is owing, in a great measure, to the general form of
the spine in man. Had the vertebras been built up, like a lofty
column, of portions, put correctly and vertically over one another,

218 OF THE HUMAN SPINE.
the spine would not have had the advantages which result from
the structure we are about to describe. The incumbent weight
would then have fallen on the centres of all the bodies of the
vertebras ; and they would have yielded but to a slight degree.
The column is formed according to the figure of the italic/;
which waving line we need not admire because it is the line of
beauty, as some have defined it, but because it is the form of
elasticity. The spine being originally of this curved shape, the
pressure is directed upon the margins of the vertebras and of the
intervertebral substances ; they therefore yield readily ; by
yielding, they produce an increase of the curve, and a conse
quent shortening of the whole column ; and then they admit of
an easy return to their original places. Suppose we rest the
palm of the hand upon a walking-cane, elastic, but perfectly
straight ; it bears a considerable pressure without yielding, and
when it does yield, it is with a jerk ; but if it be previously bent,
however we may increase or diminish the pressure, there will be
no shock : the hand will be supported, or the cane yield, with
an easy and uninterrupted resiliency. Such we conceive to be
the end obtained through the double curvature of the spine :
that the brain shall receive no shock, in the sudden motions of
the body.
Were we to give our attention to the processes of bone which
stand out from the bodies of the vertebras, we should find un
expected provisions there also. It is a common remark of anat
omists, that the bones of the spine are secured in their proper
places, by the relations of the surfaces in contact ; the surface
of the body of the vertebra being oblique in one direction, and
those of the articulating processes in another — the one inclina
tion prevents the bone being dislocated forwards, and the other
prevents it being displaced backwards. There is something
more than this. The articulating processes consist of four
wedge-like projections from the back and lateral parts of each
vertebra ; two being directed upwards, and two downwards ;
and their smooth surfaces are inclined in such a manner that
those of the adjoining vertebrae slide upon one another — that is
to say, the surface of the lower articulating process of the verte
bra above, being itself inclined, moves upon another, viz., that'
of the upper articulating process of the vertebra below, which is
also inclined As the intervertebral substances of the bodies

WHY THE SPINE IS CURVED. 219
yield and recoil, the articulating process of the upper vertebra
shifts upon the inclined surface of the process on which it is
seated, ascending and descending ; but owing to the wedge-like
shape of the processes, the impediment to the descent is greater
the more the vertebra sinks ; thus adding to the elasticity and
security of the whole, and preventing the abrupt shocks which
would be the consequence of the surfaces being horizontal.
The eighteen-pounder made to recoil upon an ascending plane,
or a surface forming a portion of a circle, represents the mechan
ism of the articulating processes of the vertebras.
Let the separate spine be presented before us ; it stands up,
like a mast, broad and strong below, and tapering upwards.
The mast of a ship is supported by the shrouds and stays ; and
if we sought for analogies to these, we must select the long
muscles of the back which run along the spine to sustain it. But
as a mast goes by the board in a storm, we see where the spine
would be most in danger, if nature had not provided against it.
When we start forward in walking or running, it is by the exer
tion of the muscles of the lower extremities ; and the body fol
lows. Did the spine stand directly up, perpendicularly, it
would sustain a shock or jar at its base, in these sudden motions.
We see, therefore, the intention of the lower vertebrae being
inclined forwards from their foundation on the sacrum : for by
this arching forwards, the jar which might endanger the junction
of the lowest piece, is divided amongst the five pieces that form
the curve. The same thing is seen in the neck of the quadru
ped ; for as the spine in the back and loins lies horizontally, and
the neck rises towards the perpendicular, there would be dan
ger of dislocation, if the vertebras of the neck rose suddenly
and abruptly upwards from the body : there is, therefore, at the
lowest part of the neck, a sweep or semicircle formed by several
vertebras, to permit the head to be erected; a remarkable ex
ample of which is shown in the stag.*
* Every one who has seen a ship
pitching in a heavy sea, must have
asked himself why the masts are not
upright, or rather, why the fore-mast
stands upright, whilst the main and
mizen masts stand oblique to the
deck, or, as the phrase is, rake aft or
towards the stern of the ship. The
main and mizen masts incline back

wards, because the strain is greatest
in the forward pitch of the vessel;
for the mast having received an
impulse forwards, it is suddenly
checked as the head of the ship
rises; but the mast being set with
an inclination backwards, the motion
falls more in the perpendicular line

from the head to the keel. This ad-

pel ke

220 EXERCISE ESSENTIAL TO PERFECTION.
It may be here observed, that when a delicate piece of mechan-'
ism is constructed by the hands of man, it may be put aside,
locked up, and preserved. But the most delicate textures of
the living frame stand distinguished above all by this quality —
that if they be not put to use, they very quickly degenerate.
Not only is the power of action lost by inaction ; as every one
must be aware in the functions of his own mind, or in the
exercise of his senses ; but the texture of the organs quickly
deteriorates. If by accident a limb should lose certain move
ments, the muscles, nerves, vessels, which nature intended to
be subservient to these motions, become, in a few weeks or
months, so wasted, that they are hardly recognisable by the
anatomist. Applying this acknowledged principle to the spine,
and bearing in mind that the texture of bone, cartilage, liga
ment, tendon, muscle, in short, all the parts which enter into
its structure, however varying in solidity or composition, retain
their perfection by being exercised, we shall readily perceive
the effect of undue confinement on young females. Without
any positive disease, but from being over-educated in modes
which require sedentary application, the spine becomes weak,
and loose in texture, and yields to the prevailing posture, what
ever that may be. We mention this, because it is a principle
important in every consideration to each individual, and appli
cable to both body and mind.
Of the Chest. — The thorax, or chest, is formed of bones and
cartilages, so disposed as to sustain and protect the most vital
parts, the heart and lungs ; to move incessantly in the act of
respiration, without a moment's interval during a whole life ;
and to turn and twist with perfect facility, in every motion of
the body. In anatomical description, the thorax is formed of
the vertebral column, or spine, on the back part ; the ribs on
either side ; and the breast-bone, or sternum, on the fore part
The manner in which these bones are united ; and especially,
in which they are joined to the breast-bone by the interposition

vantage is lost in the upright position
of the fore-mast, but it is sacrificed
to a superior advantage gained in
working the ship ; the sails upon
this mast act more powerfully in
swaying the vessel round, and the
perpendicular position causes the
ship to tack or stay better ; but the

perpendicular position, as we have
seen,.causes the strain in pitching to
come at right angles to the mast,
and is, therefore, more apt to spring
it. These considerations give an in
terest to the fact, that the human
spine, from its utmost convexity
near its base, inclines backwards.

ELASTICITY OF CHEST. 221
of cartilages, or gristle, a substance softer than bone, and more
elastic and yielding ; is most admirable. By this combination
of hardness and elasticity, the ribs are fitted to protect the
ahest against the effects of violence ; and even to sustain life,
after the muscular power of respiration has become too feeble
to continue, without the aid of elasticity.
If the ribs were complete circles, formed entirely of bone
from the spine to the breast-bone, there would be greater lia
bility to fracture and danger to life ; the rubs and jolts to which
the human frame is continually exposed, would be too much
for their delicate and brittle texture. This evil is avoided by
the interposition of the elastic cartilages. On their fore part,
the ribs are eked out and joined to the breast-bone by means of
cartilages of a form corresponding to their own; being, as it
were, the continuations of the arches of the ribs by substances
more adapted to yield, and recoil, in every shock or contusion,
than bony hoops. The elasticity of this portion meets and
subdues those crushings of the body which would otherwise
occasion fracture of the ribs. We lean forward, or to one side,
and the ribs accommodate themselves, not by a change of form
in the bones, but by the bending or elasticity of the cartilages
A severe blow upon the ribs does not break them, because their
extremities recoil and yield to the violence. But it is only in
youth, when the human frame is in perfection, that this pliancy
and elasticity have full effect. In old age, the cartilages of the
ribs become bony ; they are firmly attached to the breast-bone,
and the extremities of the ribs are fixed, as if the whole arch
were formed of bone, unyielding and inelastic. Then a violent
blow upon the side will fracture the ribs,— an accident seldom
occurring in childhood, or in youth.
There is a purpose still more important to be accomplished by
means of the elastic structure of the ribs ; that is, in the highly
excited respiration which accompanies great efforts of bodily
strength. There are two acts of breathing— expiration, or the
sending forth of the breath ; and inspiration, or drawing in the
breath. When the chest is at rest, it is neither in a state of
expiration, nor in that of inspiration ; it is in the intermediate
condition ; and the muscular effort by which either the one or
the other is produced, is an act opposed to the elasticity of the
ribs. The muscles of respiration are excited alternately, to

222 WINDPIPE AND CHEST ILLUSTRATED
dilate or to contract the cavity of the chest, and, in doing so, to
raise or depress the ribs. Hence it is, that both in inspiration
and in expiration, the elasticity of the ribs is called into play;
and, were it within our province, it would be easy to show, that
after the muscular power had become too weak to continue the
breathing unassisted, the action can be carried on, and life pre
served, through the aid of the elastic property of the ribs.
From what has been now explained, it will at once be under
stood that violent exertion is incompatible with the condition
of the chest in old age. The elasticity of the cartilages is gone,
the circle of the ribs is unyielding, and will not allow that high
breathing, that sudden and great dilatation and contraction of
the cavity of the chest, which is required for circulating the
blood through the lungs, and relieving the heart in the tumul
tuous flowing of the blood which laborious exertion produces.
Looking to the means of guarding life, nothing can be more
important than the condition of the lungs in respect to the
quantity of atmospheric air within them. The sensibility, and
the rapid contraction of the glottis, near the mouth of the
respiratory tube, are for arresting any foreign matter, afloat in
the atmosphere, which might be drawn in by the stream of
inspired air, and so reach the recesses of the lungs. But were
this all, the office would not be half performed. The foreign
body would be arrested ; but how expelled, if it lodged ? In
common expiration, the air is never discharged altogether from
the lungs ; there is enough retained to be propelled against this
foreign body, and to eject it. And, but for this, the sensibility
of the glottis, and the actions of the expiratory muscles, would
be in vain ; we should be suffocated by the slightest husk of
seed, or subject to deep inflammation from foreign matter drawn
into the air-tubes collecting in the lungs.
We may here observe, that the instinctive actions for the
protection of the body are calculated, if we may say so, for the
natural condition of man. The manufacturer is sometimes
removed from that condition ; and our invention must be
taxed, not only to maintain the purity, in a chemical sense, of
the atmosphere in which he works, but to arrest, or convey
away, the small portions of material which may be thrown off—
for example, by the operations of the flax-dresser in heckling,
or of the cutler who grinds the steel after the instrument is

BY THE HYDROSTATIC PARADOX. 223
forged, or of the stone-cutter, &c. — and so to prevent those parti
cles from being inhaled. The length of the air-passages which
lead to the lungs, the sensibility and muscular apparatus be
stowed upon them, and the mucous secretions thrown into
them, are the natural means by which foreign matter is arrested
and thrown out. But in these artificial conditions of men,
insoluble particles are continually floating in the atmosphere
which they breathe ; these are drawn in and lodge in the lungs,
and irritate to disease.
This part of our subject suggests the consideration of that
law of fluids which appears, at first, so contradictory as to be
called the " hydrostatic paradox." Suppose a machine formed
of two boards of equal diameter, and joined together by leather
nailed to their margins, like a pair of bellows ; a hole is made
in the upper board, into which is inserted a tube. If a person
mount upon this apparatus when it is filled with water, and
blow into the pipe, he can raise the upper board, carrying him
self upwards by the force of his own breath — indeed, by the
power of his cheeks alone. It is on the same principle that,
when a forcing-pump is let into a closed reservoir of water, it
produces surprising effects. The piston of the hydraulic press
being loaded with a weight of one pound, the same degree of
pressure will be transmitted to every part of the surface of the
reservoir that is given to the bottom of the tube, and the power
of raising the upper lid will be multiplied in the proportion
that its surface is larger than the diameter of the tube. Or, to
state it conversely : suppose we had to raise the column of water
in the tube by compressing the reservoir ; it would require the
weight of a pound on every portion of the superficies of the
reservoir equal in extent to the base of the piston, before the
water could be raised in the tube. Were the apparatus which
we have described full of air instead of water, we should witness
a similar effect; for all fluids, whether elastic or not, press
equally in all directions ; and this is the law on which the
phenomenon depends. If we blow into the nozzle of a common
pair of bellows, it is surprising what a weight of books we can
heave up if laid upon its board.
Understanding, then, that the power of the hydraulic press,
in raising the lid, depends on the size of the reservoir, and its
relation to the tube; and again, that in pressing the fluid up

224 THE HYDROSTATIC PARADOX.
through the tube, the pressure upon the sides of the reservoir
must be the greater the larger the cavity, we can conceive how
a glass-blower propels the air into his blow-pipe with great ease,
if he blow by means of the contraction of the cheeks, the smaller
cavity ; but that it will be with an exhausting effort, if he blow
by the compression of the larger cavity, the chest. Dr Young
made a calculation that, in propelling the air through a tube of
the same calibre, a weight of four pounds, operating upon a
cavity of the size of the mouth, would be equal to the weight of
seventy pounds, pressing upon a cavity of the dimensions of the
chest. Let us see how beautifully this hydraulic principle is intro
duced to give strength in the common actions of the body. We
have remarked that the extension of the superficies of the tho
rax is necessary to the powerful action of the muscles which lie
upon it ; and these are the muscles of the arms. In preparation
for a great effort, we draw the breath and expand the chest.
The start of surprise, and of readiness for exertion, in man and
animals, is this instinctive act. But unless there were other
means of preserving the lungs distended, the action of those
muscles which should be thrown upon the arms would be
wasted in keeping the chest expanded. It is here, then, that
the principle which we have noticed is brought into play. The
chink of the glottis, which the reader has already understood
to be the top of that tube which descends into the lungs, is
closed by a muscle not weighing a thousandth part of the
muscles which clothe the chest ; yet this little muscle controls
them all ! A sailor leaning his breast over a yard-arm, and ex
erting every muscle on the rigging, gives a direction to the
whole muscular system, and applies the muscles of respiration
to the motions of the trunk and arm, through the influence of
this small muscle, that is not capable of raising a thousandth
part of the weight of his body ; because this little muscle
operates upon the chink of the glottis, and is capable of oppos
ing the whole combined power of all the muscles of expiration.
It closes the tube just in the same way that the man standing
on the hydraulic bellows can with his lips support his whole
weight. Thus it is that the muscles which would else be en
gaged in dilating the chest, are permitted to give their power to
the motions of the arms.

OF THE KANGAROO. 225
Some cruel experiments have been made, which, for whatever
intended, illustrate the necessity of closing the top of the wind
pipe during exertion. The wind-pipe of a dog was opened,
which produced no defect until the animal was solicited by his
master to leap across a ditch, when it fell into the water in the
act of -leaping ; it failed in its leap; because the muscles which
should have given force to the fore-legs lost their power by the
sudden sinking of the chest. This experiment is sufficiently
repugnant to our feelings ; and I need not offend the reader by
giving instances in further illustration, from what sometimes
takes place in man.]
Relation between the Skeleton of the Bird, and its
mode of producing its Offspring. — Having, in the earlier part
of the volume, noticed some of the more remarkable peculiari
ties of the skeleton of the bird, we may take this opportunity
of observing the relation between its general form, and one of
its principal functions. Putting out of the question, for the
present, digestion and respiration, functions necessary for pre
serving the life of the individual, the continuation of the species
is the next in importance. If a bird is to be buoyant and cap
able of flying, it cannot be viviparous. We have seen that a full
stomach impeded the flight of a carnivorous bird ; now, from
that it is evident that it could not have carried its young within
it. Is it not curiously provided, then, that the bird shall pro
duce its offspring by a succession of small eggs ; and that these
shall accumulate in the nest, instead of growing in the body ?
In short, it requires no argument to prove that the hollow bones
of the skeleton, the extension of the breast-bone, the air-cells,
the quill-feathers, the bill, and the laying of eggs, are all in
necessary relation to each other.
Of the Kangaroo. — Since we have spoken of the adaptation
of the skeleton of the bird to its mode of producing its young,
we may, for the same object, advert to the subject in a quadru
ped. In the mammalia, there is no deviation from the general
form of the skeleton more extraordinary than that in the kan
garoo ; and there is, at the same time, a remarkable peculiarity
in the'manner in which it produces its offspring. Instead of
remaining within the mother for the usual period of gestation,
the young, by a singular process, not perfectly understood, is
excluded,°and found attached to the teat there, covered by an

226 CONCLUDING REMARKS.
exterior warm pouch, formed of the skin ; it hangs by the
mouth, until, from being a minute and shapeless thing, it is
matured to the degree when the offspring of other animals are
usually brought forth.
Now it appears that the upright position of this animal, and
the disproportioned magnitude of the lower part of its body —
for it is the only creature except man which rests in the perpen
dicular—may account for the peculiarity of its mode of gestation.
Without entering far into the subject, we may observe that an
accurate correspondence must subsist between the form of the
young offspring and the bones of the mother through which it
has to be expelled. In animals generally, the head is the larger
part ; but in the kangaroo, that bears no proportion to the mag
nitude of the hind quarters ; for when an animal is designed for
the perpendicular position, the hip-bones must necessarily be of
large size to sustain the weight ; and such is the case with the
kangaroo. Nature has, therefore, accomplished the production
of the young safely, and by the simplest means,— that is, by
anticipating the period of the separation of the young animal ;
and providing for. its growth exteriorly, after it has passed
through the circle of bones called the pelvis. For these reasons
we conclude that there is a relation between the mode of pro
ducing the offspring, and the form of the skeleton, in this
animal. I hope that I have now gone far enough to prove that where
uniformity is preserved in the shape of any part of the skeleton,
it depends on the permanence in the function of the organ. In
certain respects the head and spine are persistent in their forms ;
but that is merely because the brain and spinal marrow contained
within the skull and vertebral column do not vary, except in
point of relative size. As regards the application of the bones
of the face to be instruments for obtaining food, for attack, or
defence, they are ever curiously changed in their processes and
articulations, in accommodation to the numerous different modes
of using the parts. In fine, we may observe, that there never
takes place any modification in the form of the parts of the
body, — whether in the forehead, occiput, jaws, teeth, spine,
pelvis, or extremities,— without a corresponding adaptation
•extending through the whole skeleton.

IMAGINARY ANIMALS. 227
Imaginary Animals. — "No doubt we can imagine a greater
variety of animals than do actually exist;" such are the words
of Archdeacon Paley. But what is the fact ? Suppose we take the
fabled animals of antiquity ; not one of them could have existed !
It may serve both to show the imperfection of man's ingenu
ity, compared with nature, and the perfection of the system of
the animal body, if, for a moment, we examine these imaginary
animals, and inquire whether they could have fed, or breathed,
or moved, or flown.
What, in fact, are these monstrous fancies, but an incongruous
union of parts of different animals, patched together without
order or system, and which could not have belonged to any
living creature ? When the head of a lion is joined to the belly
of a goat, or the head of a woman to the body of a bird, or the
body of a man to the tail of a serpent, there is no real inven
tion. Not one of the centaurs of Thessaly, satyrs of the Indian
mountains, sphinxes of Egypt, griffins among the one-eyed na
tions, could have stood, run, or flown. It may be alleged, and
perhaps truly, that these figures were mere allusive representa
tions — the mystical types of some country or element. It is
sufficient, however, for our argument, that such are the only ima
ginary animals which have been acquiesced in by the classical
scholar, as having had a fanciful existence.
In the antique marble figure of the centaur, the merit of the
sculptor is evinced by his success in reconciling our fancy to the
unnatural union of the various members : for example, in the
face, the expansion of the nostrils, and the coltish wildness of
the expression, are in correct correspondence with the artist's
design of joining to the human form that of the horse. But this
attempt at combined representation would not have satisfied
one narrowly acquainted with the proportions of the horse. He
would know that too heavy a fore-quarter, too long a neck, or too
large a head, was incompatible with wind, speed, or safe going ;
and he would have concluded that an animal with such defects
would be unsound, would founder in the feet. What, then, would
he have said to a centaur, where, besides head and extremities,
an additional body is made to rest upon the fore-legs?
Galen wonders if Pindar believed in centaurs. "For," says
he, "if such an animal were to exist, it ought to have two
mouths ; one to correspond to the stomach of man ; the other

228 IMAGINARY ANIMALS.
to masticate for the stomach of the horse. If it could run upon
the plain, it could not climb the hill, or make its way in rocky
places. Though possessed of human faculties, it could not build
for itself an habitation, or navigate ships, or man the sails ;" and,
more particular still in his objections, he adds, " that it could
neither sit like the tailor, nor make shoes like the cobbler,"
How nature manages to rear a heavy structure on the fore
legs of a quadruped, without the incumbent weight bearing in
ordinately upon them, we saw when examining the skeleton of
the giraffe. We observed that the pressure of the greatly elon
gated neck was partly taken off the fore-quarters, and directed
on the hind-legs by the oblique position of the spine and short
ness of the hind-quarters. However beautiful, then, as works
of art, may be the figures of the centaur upon antique gems,
they are yet monsters ; their construction, a joining together of
incongruous parts.
Few designs are more difficult to execute than that of the
fawn or satyr. This results from the artist having to reconcile
the inconsistencies of a human form and face united to the
limbs of a brute. If we have attended to the great size and
strength of the human lower extremities, as compared with
the upper part of the body, we may have perceived the incon
gruity of rearing the human trunk and head upon the hind-legs
of a goat, the bones of which are disproportionately small, and
the masses of muscle misplaced. This is not thought of by the
painter and sculptor, when they represent their fawns dancing
and piping. An instant's consideration of the comparative size
and relative position of the bones, and of the action of the
muscles, would have shown that the limbs must have been in
capable of such activity. Had these fabulous forms actually
existed, they must have crept weakly along the ground.
And so of the griffin. Eagle's wings could never have raised
the body of the lion. For a creature to rise on the wing, there
must be not only a mass of muscle proportioned to the extended
wing, but a surface of bone of sufficient extent to give lodgment
and attachment to the muscles of flight; Corresponding to the
muscular strength of the lion, his bones are thick, dense, and
heavy ; now a skeleton composed of such bones would nevei
answer for a creature that was to be buoyant in the air. Ac
cordingly, even if the external forms were consistent, the inter
nal conformation would be incompatible with the existence of

IMAGINARY ANIMALS. 229
such an animal as the griffin. The lion's tail, again, would be a
very useless appendage, compared with the fine rudder with
which the eagle directs his swoop.
These instances might be multiplied. But we venture to say
that every animal form, not actually existing in nature, but the
invention of the artist or poet, would be discovered to have
some defect in the balance of the exterior members, or in the
relation of the parts necessary for motion; or were the exterior
and moving parts duly balanced, some internal organ would be
found unconformable, or displaced — too much developed, or
too much compressed. In short, man's imagination is more
limited than he may at first have believed. His inventions are
only the incongruous union of things presented separately in
nature. It is, indeed, far beyond his power to accomplish what
was supposed possible by Paley, who said, " that multitudes of
conformations, both of vegetables and animals, may be conceived
capable of existence and succession, which yet do not exist."
This manner of viewing the subject confirms more strongly
our belief in the perfection of that natural system of parts,
which, in an infinite variety of creatures, admits of all the
changes necessary for the different acts of walking, running,
flying, swimming, &c. ; at the same time that it accommodates
the internal functions which minister to life, to every condition
of existence to which the animal may be destined.

APPROPRIATE SENSIBILITIES INDUCE COMBINED MUSCU
LAR ACTIONS, FOE, THE PROTECTION OF THE VITAL
ORGANS, OR THE PERFORMANCE OF THELR FUNCTIONS.
In addition to the examples given in Chap. VII., we offer one
or two more, to show how the sensibilities, which are endow
ments of life, vary and are adapted to the mechanical organisa
tion, with an appropriation more admirable than the mechanism.
The sensibility we allude to differs from that of the skin. It is
put in connection with numerous muscles ; and without its
high and peculiar property of controlling, independently of the
will, the multiplied combinations of the muscles, the mechanical
provisions we are about to describe would be useless.
The top of the windpipe, the larynx, consists of five elastic
cartilages. These do not merely keep the sides of the windpipe.
apart, and a passage for the breath free, but they perform
offices important to the economy both of body and mind ; they
are an essential part of the instrument of voice : they at the
same time guard the lungs from injury.
The thyroid cartilage is the largest ; it is that which we feel
projecting on the fore part of the throat. Situated behind,
and within the embrace of the thyroid, are the arytenoid carti
lages, of an irregularly triangular form, socketed on the cricoid
cartilage below, and perfectly moveable. Between the corners
of the arytenoid cartilages, which project forwards, and the
thyroid, are stretched, from behind forwards, two ligaments,
parallel, and at a little distance from each other, called the vocal
cords (cordce vocales) ; these ligaments or cords, being invested
with the lining membrane of the windpipe, a slit, like the till
of a shop-counter, is formed between them ; and through this
chink (called rima glottidis) the air passes to and fro. To the
sides and back part of the arytenoid cartilages small muscles
are attached ; and these, by moving the cartilages, tighten or
relax the cordas vocales ; which, again, by vibrating in the stream
of air, vocalise the breath, and the tones so produced are arti
culated in speech.

COUGHING. 231
This is a subject far from being exhausted in our philoso
phical works ; but at present we may look on these vocal cords,
not as connected with voice, but in another of their offices, as
forming the commissure which opens and shuts in breathing to
protect the lungs from the intrusion of extraneous bodies. And
here it is pertinent to remark, that in the structure of an animal
body, one organ is frequently made subservient to several func
tions, and that without interference with the performance of any
of them. This is especially true of the larynx. It is to one of
its uses only that we have at present to attend.
The chink of the glottis formed between the cordas vocales
opens at every inspiration, and closes at every expiration, ex
panding and contracting as we see the nostrils do in breathing.
But the admirable thing is the acute sensibility given to this
part, and the immediate influence of that sensibility upon the
muscles connected with it. As soon as the lightest husk, or
seed, or smaJlest fly, drawn in with the breath, touches the
margin of the chink, there is a rapid action of the muscles
which move the vocal cords, the aperture is closed, and the
object is arrested. This provision is an effectual means of pre
venting the entrance of foreign matters into the delicate cells of
the lungs. But how is the object carried thus far expelled?
The same sensibility of the aperture of the glottis animates
another, and that a very extensive class of muscles, viz., all
those which, seated on the chest, compress it, and force out the
air, in coughing ; these combining in one powerful and simul
taneous effort, whilst the glottis is closed, overcome that con
striction, and propel the breath through the contracted pipe
with an explosive force, which brushes off the offending body.
There is one thing more necessary to this most important
though familiar action. The lungs are never empty of air : in
breathing, we do not fully expel it. If we did, there would be
a period of danger occurring seventeen times in a minute ; for
in the first part of each inspiration, something might be drawn
into the windpipe which would suffocate : but by this reserve of
air in the lungs, the act of coughing can take place at any in
stant and the object be expelled.
The sensibility seated in one spot of the throat, so beneficently,
does not extend into the windpipe or lungs ; for we cannot more
admire the perfect adaptation of this property to its object, than

232 OF THE MOUTH.
the fact of its never being bestowed in a superfluous degree, or
given where it is not absolutely required. Just as we have seen
that the sensibility of the skin suffices to protect the parts situ
ated beneath, so the sensibility of the top of the windpipe pro
tects all the interior of the tube and the lungs themselves, with
out extending through the whole continuous surface.
The simple act of sneezing affords a curious instance of the
mutual relation between the muscular activity and the govern
ing sensibility. The sensation which gives rise to this convul
sive act, is seated in the membrane of the interior of the
nostrils ; we are not surprised, therefore, at its differing from
the sensibility in the throat which excites coughing, the seat of
both being different. But as regards the muscular action suc
ceeding the irritation in the nostrils, is it not curious, that in
the powerful expiration which constitutes sneezing, some twenty
muscles or more, which had been excited in the similar act of
coughing, are thrown out of action ; while a different set, about
equal in number, which had not acted in coughing, are called
into action; the difference in the combination of the muscles
being for the obvious purpose of directing the strong current of
air, past the mouth, along the tubes of the nostrils ? By no act
of the will could the air be propelled so successfully through
the nose, to the effect of brushing off the offensive and irritating
particles from the membrane, as by this co-operation of the
muscles, excited by the peculiar sensibility.
It is surely admirable to find in the Mouth so many faculties
combining and consenting in action, each with its appropriate
organisation, and each most curiously connected with other
structures. Thus we have the power of mastication, of degluti
tion, of modulation of the voice, the senses of taste and of touch,
concentrated in one apparently simple organ. Not to speak of
other relations, can there be any better proof of design, than the
effects of the excited sensibility of the tongue? No sooner
have the gustatory points of the nerves been excited, than there
is poured out into the mouth most abundantly, by four distinct
tubes, the saliva ; that fluid which facilitates mastication, and
directly prepares the food for the action of the stomach. We
presume that this fluid is chiefly useful in mastication, as the
glands are large, and the fluid most abundant, in animals which
chew the cud. In all, these glands are so disposed as to receive

DEGLUTITION BY CROCODILE. 233
gentle pressure from the motion of the jaw ; so that, whilst their
vascular apparatus is excited by the sensibilities of the tongue,
the fluid is urged from the ducts by the pressure of the jaw, and
the action of the muscles which move it. And however well we
might imagine such a supply of fluid to assist deglutition, this is
not all that is here done in preparation; for whilst the morsel
is moved by tongue, and lips, and jaws, an appropriate fluid is
collecting in what appear to be mere irregularities in the back
part of the throat, but which are, in truth, so many receptacles,
that, pointing towards the stomach, give out their contents as
the morsel passes.
There is one curious circumstance which we may notice be
fore quitting this subject. Eating seems always to be an act of
the will, and attended with gratification. Yet it is well known
that the operation of mastication, or what is very nearly the
same, may go on within the stomach, without any outward
sign at least of pleasure. The gizzard (with which we are
most familiar in fowls, though found in the vegetable feeders
of different classes of animals) is correctly enough described
as an organ of mastication, in which an incessant and alter
nate action of opponent muscles takes place, like the motions
of the jaws. In the stomach of the lobster, these are not
merely the muscles of chewing, but the teeth also : so that it
appears the function may be performed altogether internally
and without the volition, and probably without the sensations
that accompany the offices of the mouth. We mention this, as
drawing the reader to comprehend that many organs may be in
operation in the internal economy, without our consciousness.
Let us advert to the mode of swallowing by the crocodile,
as an instance of the changes in the organisation which adapt
an animal to new conditions. In terrestrial animals, the act of
swallowing must be accommodated to the atmosphere ; but if the
creature live in water, and still breathes the air, the structure
of the parts must be changed. The crocodile seizes its prey,
and descends into the water with it. Its power of descending
does not result, as in the fish, from compressing the air-bladder,
but is owing, as we have shown, to a provision in its ribs and
lungs. Unless the crocodile could expel the air from its lungs
in a greater degree than the mammalia are capable of doing, it
could not crawl upon the bottom, nor retain its place there

234 OF HUNGER AND THIRST.
without continual exertion. There is in the mouth, as well as
in the thorax and lungs, an adaptation to this mode of destroy
ing its prey by carrying it under water. The crocodile has no
lips ; it lies on the shore basking with its mouth open and
teeth exposed, so that flies light upon and crawl'into its mouth.
Against these the air tubes are protected, not by lips, or a sensi
bility of the mouth, but by an apparatus which separates the
mouth from the throat and windpipe. This partition between
the cavities is necessary when the animal seizes its prey : for as
it plunges under the water with open mouth, the air tube must
be protected against the ingress of the water. For that purpose,
there is a transverse ridge, arising from the body of the bone of
the tongue, which raises a duplicature of the membrane, so as
to form a septum across the back part of the mouth below,
whilst the curtain of the soft palate, hanging from above, meets
the margin of the lower septum, and they form together a com
plete partition between the anterior and posterior cavities. Thus
the animal is enabled to hold its prey in the open mouth, with
out admitting the water to the air passages.
Hunger and Thiest. — Hunger and thirst are in truth senses,
although the seat or organ is not easily ascertained. The wants,
and desires, and pains accompanying them resemble no other
sensations. Like the senses, they are given as monitors and
safeguards, at the same time that, like them, they are sources
of gratification.
Hunger is defined to be a peculiar sensation experienced in
the stomach from a deficiency of food. JSuch a definition does
not greatly differ from the notions of those who referred the
sense of hunger to the mechanical action of the surfaces of the
stomach upon each other, or to a threatening of chemical action
of the gastric juice on the stomach itself. But an empty
stomach does not cause hunger. On the contrary, the time
when the meal has passed the stomach is the best suited for
exercise, and when there is the greatest alacrity of spirits. The
beast of prey feeds at long intervals ; the snake and other cold
blooded animals take food after intervals of days or weeks. A
horse, on the contrary, is always feeding. His stomach, at most,
contains about four gallons, yet throw before him a truss of
tares or lucerne, and he will eat continually. The emptying of
the stomach cannot therefore be the cause of hunger.

OF HUNGER AND THIRST. 235
The natural appetite is a sensation related to the general con
dition of the system, and not simply referable to the state of
the stomach ; neither to its action, nor its emptiness, nor the
acidity of its contents; nor in a starved creature will a full
stomach satisfy the desire of food. Under the same impulse
which makes us swallow, the ruminating animal draws the
morsel from its own stomach.
Hunger is well illustrated by thirst. Suppose we take the
definition of thirst — that it is a sense of dryness and constriction
in the back part of the mouth and fauces — the moistening of
these parts will not allay thirst after much fatigue or during
fever. In making a long speech, if a man's mouth be parched,
and the dryness merely from speaking, it will be relieved by
moistening ; but if it come from the feverish anxiety and excite
ment attending a public exhibition, his thirst will not be so
assuaged. The question, as it regards thirst, was brought to a
demonstration by the following circumstance. A man having
a wound low down in his throat, was tortured with thirst; but
no quantity of fluid passing through his mouth and gullet, and
escaping by the wound, was found in any degree to quench his
thirst. Thirst, then, like hunger, has relation to the general condition
of the animal system — to the necessity for fluid in the circula
tion. For this reason, a man dying from loss of blood suffers
under intolerable thirst. In both thirst and hunger, the supply
is obtained through the gratification of an appetite; and as
to these appetites, it will be acknowledged that the pleasures
resulting from them far exceed the pains. They gently solicit
for the wants of the body : they are the perpetual motive and
spring to action.
Breathing, as we have seen, is even more directly necessary
to life than food ; but to this we are differently admonished.
An appetite implies intervals of satiety and indifference. The
uninterrupted action of breathing could not be supported by a
perpetual desire: we cannot imagine such an uniformity of
sensation. The action of breathing has been made instinctive,
while pain and the alarm of death are brought as the only
adequate agents to control the irregularities of a function so
necessary to life. Pain does here what desire and the solicita
tion of pleasure could not accomplish.

236 OF THE SENSIBILITY
Of the Sensibilities governing the actions of the Stomach. —
The examples recently given may introduce us to an acquaintance
with those internal sensibilities which excite the actions of parts
quite removed from the influence of the will ; but the descrip
tion of the organs themselves may be deemed unnecessary. Let
us take the instance of the guard which nature has placed on
the lower orifice of the stomach, to check the passage of aliments
not easy of digestion, which the appetites of hunger and thirst
may have tempted one to swallow. This lower orifice is en
circled with a muscular ring, and the ring is in the keeping of a
watchful guard. If we are employing the language of meta
phor, it is of ancient use; for the Greeks called this orifice
jjylorus, signifying a porter.* And his office is this : when the
stomach has received the food, it lies in the left extremity, or is
slightly agitated there. When the digestive process is accom
plished, the stomach urges the food towards the lower orifice.
If the matter be bland and natural, it passes, and no sensation
is experienced. But if crude and undigested matter be pre
sented, opposition is offered to its passage ; and a contention is
begun which happily terminates in the food being thrown again
to the left extremity of the stomach, to be submitted to a more
perfect operation of the digestive power seated there. It is dur
ing this unnatural retrograde movement of the food, that men
are made sensible of having a stomach. Yet the sensations, how
unpleasant soever, are not to be regarded as a punishment ; but
rather as a call on reason to aid the instinctive powers, and to
guard against disease, by preventing impure matters from being
admitted into the portion of the intestinal canal which absorbs,
and would thus carry those impurities into the blood to en
gender disease.
Here, then, is another example of a sensibility bestowed to
guard us against external influences, when they threaten destruc
tion to the framework ; and to regulate the operations of internal
parts too complicated and too remotely situated for the super
intendence of reason.
Medical authors, without being empirics, seem occasionally,
from the rules they lay down, to calculate on the ignorance of
the community. They appear to ignore the sensations expe-
* The upper orifice was called by I purveyor, from two words signify -
them (esophagus, as if it were the I ing, to bring food.

OF THE STOMACH. 237
rienced in the stomach during the process of digestion : and
yet no harm can be apprehended from giving a man confidence
in the warnings which these impart, as to the functions being
healthy or disturbed. We have the best proof of what we wish
to inculcate in the action of the ruminating stomach. A cow
swallows the gross herbage, and fills its large first stomach.
When it chews the cud, the stomach, by its action, rolls up the
grass into distinct pellets, or balls, with as much regard to its
being returned into the mouth, as we do in masticating and
rolling the morsel in preparation for swallowing. When the
ball is brought into the mouth and chewed, it is again swal
lowed ; but in descending into the lower part of the gullet, a
muscle draws close the aperture by which it had passed into
the large stomach in the first instance ; it is now ushered into
a second stomach, and so successively onwards to that stomach
in which the digestion is performed. The curious muscular
apparatus by which this is accomplished need not be described ;
but surely the sensibility which directs it, and which, although
independent of the will, is yet so like an operation of reason in
its results, presents a subject of just admiration.
The elastic structure of the camel's foot ; the provision around
its eyes for ridding them of offensive particles ; the power of
closing its nostrils against the clouds of sand ; and its endur
ance of fatigue — would not enable it to pass the desert, unless
there were provisions for the lodgment of water in its stomach,
and unless this apparatus were animated by peculiar sensi
bilities. Accordingly, a muscular apparatus is provided for re
taining the water in the cells of its stomach, only permitting it
to ooze out according to the necessities of the animal ; there is
also a muscular band which pulls up the one or the other of
the orifices of the different stomachs, to receive the food from
the lower end of the gullet, according to its condition, whether
to be deposited merely as in a store, or to be submitted to the
operation of digestion. The surprising thing in all this is not
so much the mechanical provision, as the governing sensibility.
What, for example, should, in the first place, impel the grosser
food, newly collected, into the first stomach ? What, after rumi
nation and mastication in the mouth, should carry that into
the third stomach ? And why should the water be carried into
neither of these, but into the cells of the second stomach?

238 OF THE SENSIBILITY
Yet, after all, this only brings us back to a sense of the opera
tions in our own bodies. The act of swallowing,— the propul
sion of the food into the gullet, the temporary closing of the
windpipe by the epiglottis, the momentary relaxation of the
diaphragm, fibres of which encircle the upper orifice of the
stomach at such a time, — is just as surprising. The shutting of
the larynx by the epiglottis is never deranged but by the inter
ference of the will. If the individual attempt to speak, that is,
to govern the parts by volition, when they should be left to
these instinctive actions, or if terror, or some such mental ex
citement, prevail at the moment of swallowing, then the morsel
may stick in the throat.
All this shows how perfect the operations of nature are, and
how well it is provided that the vital motions should be with
drawn from the control of reason, and even of volition, and be
subjected to a more uniform and certain law. But the point to
which we would carry the reader is this, — that the human
stomach, though not so complicated in its apparatus of mace
rating and digesting vats as in some of the lower animals,
especially the herbivorous, is possessed of a no less wonderful
degree of governing sensibility, which may be trusted to as
surely as the precepts of the most skilful physiologist. We are
told that we must not drink at meals, lest the fluid interfere
with the operation of digestion. Of this there need be no ap
prehension. The stomach separates, and let's off with the most
curious skill, all superfluous fluid through its orifice ; while it
retains the matter fit for digestion. It retains it in its left ex
tremity, permitting the fluid to pass into the intestines, there to
supply the other wants of the system, no less important than
digestion. The veterinary professor, Coleman, ascertained that
a pail of water passed through the stomach and intestines of a
horse at the rate of ten feet in the minute, until it reached the
larger bowel. Drinking at a stated period after meals, say an
hour, is at variance with both appetite and reason. The diges
tion is then effectually interfered with ; for what was solid has
become a fluid (the chyme) ; this fluid is already in part assimi
lated ; it has undergone the first of those changes which fit it
ultimately to be the living blood : and the drink mixing with it
must produce disturbance, and interrupt the work of assimila
tion.

OF THE STOMACH. 239
Looking in this manner upon the very extraordinary proper
ties of the stomach, we perceive how natural it was for physi
cians to give a name to the sensibility of which we have been
speaking. The Archeus of Van Helmont, the Anima of Stahl,
were the terms used to designate this nature, principle, or
faculty, subordinate to and distinct from perception ; a notion
entertained, and more or less distinctly hinted at, by philo
sophers, from Pythagoras to John Hunter.
We now learn what is meant by organic and by animal sensi
bility. The first is that condition of the living organ which
makes it sensible of an impression, on which it reacts, and per
forms its functions. It appears from what has preceded, that
this sensibility may cause the blowing of a flower or the motion
of a heart. The animal sensibility is indeed an improper term,
because it would seem to imply that its opposite, organic sensi
bility, was not also animal ; but it means that impression which
is referred to the sensorium, where (when action is excited) per
ception and the effort of the will are intermediate agents be
tween the sensation and the action or motion.
We may sum up the inquiry into sensibility and motion thus :—
1. The peculiar distinction of a living animal is, that its
minute particles are undergoing a continual change or revolution
under the influence of life. Philosophers have applied no term
to these motions.
2. An organ possessed of an appropriate muscular texture,
and of sensibility in accordance with the moving instrument, as
the heart or the stomach, has the power of action without re
ference to the mind. The term automatic, sometimes given to
those motions, conveys a wrong idea of the source of motion,
as if, instead of being a living power, it were consequent upun
some elastic or mechanical property.
3. There are sensibilities bestowed on certain organs, and
holding a control over a number of muscles, which combine
them in action in a manner greatly resembling the influence of
the mind upon the body, yet independent of the mind; as the
sensibility which combines the muscles in breathing.
4. In the last instance, a large class of muscles is combined
without volition. But the whole animal fabric may be so em
ployed ; as in the instinctive operations of animals, where there
is an impulse to certain actions not accompanied by intelligence,.

240 VARIETIES IN SENSIBILITIES,
5. A motive must exist before there are voluntary actions ;
and hence philosophers have supposed that there can be nothing
but instinctive actions in a new-born child. But we must
distinguish here what are perfect at first, from what are at first
imperfect and irregular, and become perfect by use and the
direction of the will The act of swallowing is perfect from the
beginning. The motions of the legs and arms, and the sounds of
the voice, are irregular and weak, and imperfectly directed. It
is the latter which improve with the mind. From not knowing
the internal structure, and the arrangement of the nerves, philo
sophers, as Hartley, supposed that an instinctive motion, such
as swallowing, may become a voluntary act. Volition in the
act of swallowing consists merely in putting the morsel within
the instinctive grasp of the fauces, when a series of involuntary
actions commences, over which we have no more control in
mature age than in the earliest infancy. Swallowing is not a
voluntary action; the thrusting of the morsel back with the
tongue is like the putting of the cup to the lip. It is the pre
paration for the act of swallowing that is voluntary : but over
the act itself we have no control.
It is an error to suppose that all muscular actions are in the
first instance involuntary, and that over some of them we ac
quire a voluntary power. A child's face has a great deal of
motion in it, very diverting from its resemblance to expression,
before there can be any real motive to the action. It will crow,
and make strange sounds, before there is an attempt at speech.
But this gradual development of intelligence and acquisition of
power ought not to be called the will attaining influence over
involuntary muscles, since, in fact, the apparatus of nerves and
muscles is prepared, and waits for the direction of the mind
with so perfect a readiness, as to fall into action and just com
bination before that condition or affection of the mind which
should precede the action takes place. A child smiles before
anything incongruous can enter the mind, before even pleasure
can be supposed a condition of the mind. Indeed, the smile on
an infant's face is first perceived in sleep.
6. All the motions enumerated above are spontaneous motions
belonging to the internal economy ; but the external relations
of the animal, the necessity of escaping from injury or warding
off violence, require a sensibility to those outward impressions,

AND THEIR INDUCED ACTIONS. 241
and an activity consequent on volition. Nothing less than per
ceptions of the mind, and voluntary acts, suited to a thousand
circumstances of relation, could preserve the higher classes of
animals, and man above all others, from destruction.
All these provisions proceed from an arrangement of nerves
and muscles. The mechanical adjustment of the muscles and
tendons is perfect according to the principles of mechanics.
The muscles themselves possess a different property ; they are
irritable parts ; motion originates in them. This living property
of contraction is admirably suited, in each particular muscle, to
the office it has to perform. In some it is necessary that the
muscles should act as rapidly as the bowstring on the arrow ; in
others their action is slow and regular ; in others it is irregular,
and after long intervals, according as the functions to which
they are subservient require. The motions of the limbs, the
motions of the eye, those of the heart and arteries, stomach and
bowels, are all different. This appropriation of action is not in
the muscles themselves, but as they stand in relation to the ner
vous system, and the sensibilities which impel them.
We hope, then, that by the course we have taken, we have
carried the reader to a higher sense of the perfection of the ani
mal structure. We first drew him to observe provisions in the
strengthening of the bones, the adjustment of their extremities
to the joints, the course of the tendons, and other such mecha
nical appliances ; proving to him the existence of design in
the formation of the solid fabric of the body. We have then
explained how that motion is produced which was at all times
familiar to him, but even the immediate causes of which he did
not comprehend. We have, in the last place, shown him that
under the term Life, he has a still more admirable subject of
contemplation, in the adjustment of the living properties; in
the sensibilities, which differ not so much in degree as in kind ;
and in their appropriation, both to the operations of the inter
nal economy, and to the relations external and necessasy to
safety. It is not possible to examine these things without having the
full proofs before us of the power of the Creator informing and
sustaining the animal body. As a man with gutta. sevens may

242 VARIETIES IN SENSIBILITIES, ETC.
turn his eyes to the sun, and feel no influence of light, so may
the understanding be blind to these proofs. With the cele
brated Dr Hunter, we may say, that he who can contemplate
them without enthusiasm, must labour under a dead palsy in
some part of his mind ; and we must pity him as unfortunate.]

A COMPARISON OF THE EYE WITH THE HAND.
"And the eye cannot say unto the hand, I have no need of theo."
If in quest of an object which shall excite the highest interest,
and at the same time afford the most convincing proofs of de
sign, we naturally turn to the Eye, as the most delicate of all
the organs of the body. And some consideration of this organ
is appropriate to our present purpose, which is to show how
much the sense of vision depends on the Hand — how strict is
the analogy between these two organs.
From the time of Sir Henry Wotton, to the latest writer on
light, the eye has been a subject of admiration and eulogy.
But on a former occasion,* I have ventured to say, that this
admiration is misplaced, if given to the ball of the eye, or the
optic nerve, exclusively. The high endowments of this organ
belong to the exercise of the whole eye — to its exterior appen
dages of muscles, as much as to its humours and the proper
nerve of vision. It is to the muscular apparatus which moves
the eye, and to the conclusions we are enabled to draw from the
consciousness of muscular effort, that, in combination with the
impression on the retina, we owe our knowledge of the form,
magnitude, and relations of objects. One might as well imagine
that he understood the uses of a theodolite by estimating the
optical powers of the glasses, without looking to the quadrant,
level, or plumb-line, as suppose that he had learnt the whole
powers of the eye by confining his study to the naked ball.
Let us begin by some observations on th© minute structure,
and the sensibility, of the retina. The retina is the internal
coat of the eye ; it consists of a delicate, pulpy, nervous matter,
which is contained between two membranes of extreme fineness ;
and these membranes both support it and give to its surfaces a
smoothness mathematically correct The matter of the nerve,
as well as these supporting membranes, is perfectly transparent
during life. In the axis of the human eye, there is a small
* See Philosophical Transactions.

254 MOTION OF EYE
THE MOTION OF THE EYE CONSIDERED IN REGARD TO THE EFFECT
OF SHADE AND COLOUR IN PAINTING.
A question naturally arises whether from this part of philo
sophy it be possible to suggest some principles for the assist
ance of the painter in the disposition of shades and colours of
a picture. When attempting to establish rules for that purpose,
the ideas and language of the artist or amateur are certainly
very vague.
We have to remark, in the first place, that the colours of
objects represented in a painting differ in most essential cir
cumstances in the effect which they produce, from those of
the natural objects themselves. In nature, bodies of various
colours placed together have their tints reflected from each
other, and so combined : this is one mode in which the hues of
nature are harmonised before they reach the eye. But the
colours upon the flat surface of the canvas cannot be thus
reflected and mingled. Again, the hues of natural objects are
affected by the atmosphere differently from those in a picture :
the rays proceeding from distant objects are softened by means
of it ; whereas, in a painting, from the canvas being close to
the eye, the effect of the atmosphere will amount to nothing.
There is, however, another mode by which the eye is influ
enced in regard to colours, and it is an effect common to natural
objects and to paintings. When we repeat the familiar experi
ment of looking steadily, and for some time, upon differently
coloured spots in succession, we become aware of the remark
able effect produced on the sensibility of the retina by the im
pression dwelling on the nerve. As this effect is not an inci
dental occurrence, but is produced, more or less, whenever we
exercise the eye, the nerve must be influenced to a certain degree
in the same manner on looking to the different colours of a
picture. It is necessary, therefore, to carry this fact with us
into the inquiry ; and I may offer one or two illustrations.
If we throw a silver coin upon a dark table, and fix the eye
upon its centre, it will be found, when we remove the coin, that
there is, for a moment, a white spot in its place, which presently
becomes deep black. If we put a red wafer upon a sheet of
paper, and continue to keep the eye fixed upon it, when we
remove the wafer, the spot where it lay on the white paper will

m RELATION TO COLOUR 255
appear green. If we look upon a green wafer in the same man
ner, and remove it, the spot will be red ; if upon blue or indigo,
the paper will seem yellow. These phenomena are to be ex
plained by considering that the nerve is exhausted from the
continuance of the impression, and becomes more apt to receive
the sensation of an opposite colour. All the colours of the
prism come into the eye from a surface that is white : accord
ingly, when we remove the coloured wafer (take that which was
red) from the white paper, all these combined colours of the
prism enter ; but if the nerve has been exhausted by the red
colour of the wafer, it will be insensible to the red rays reflected
from the paper, and the effect of the rays of an opposite kind
will be increased ; consequently, the spot will be no longer white,
nor red, but of a green colour.
Let us next observe how this exhaustion of the sensibility of
the nerve produces an effect in engraving, where there is no
colour, and only light and shade. Is it possible that a high
tower, in a cloudless sky, can be less illuminated at the top,
than at the bottom ? Yet if we turn to a book of engravings,
where an old steeple, or tower, is represented standing up
against the clear sky, we shall find that all the higher part is
dark; and the effect is picturesque and pleasing. Now, this is
perfectly correct ; for although the highest part of the tower be
in the brightest illumination, it is not seen as if it were — it
never appears so to the eye. The reason is, that on looking
towards the steeple, a great part of the retina is opposed to the
strong light of the sky ; and when we shift the eye, to look at
the particular parts of the steeple, the reflected light falls upon
the retina where it is exhausted by the direct light of the sky.
If we look to the top of the tower, and then drop the eye to
some of the lower architectural ornaments, the effect will infal
libly be, that the upper half of the tower will appear dark ; not
by contrast, as it might thoughtlessly be said, but by the nerve
being somewhat exhausted of its sensibility. This, then, is the
first effect' that we shall remark, as arising from the searching
motion of the eye, and the variety in the sensibility of the
nerve. The refreshing colours of the natural landscape are at no time so
pleasing as when, reading on a journey, we turn the eye from the
book to the fields and woods ; the shadows are then deeper — the

256 MOTION OF EYE
greens more soothing ; and the whole colours softened. Reynolds
observed to Sir George. Beaumont that the pictures of Rubens
appeared different to him, and less brilliant, on his second visit
to the continent, than on his first ; and the reason of the differ
ence he discovered to be, that on the first visit he had taken
notes, and on the' second he had not. The alleged reason is
quite equal to the effect ; but I cannot help imagining that there
is some incorrectness in the use of the term brilliant, unless
warmth and depth of colouring is meant ; for when the eye
turns from the white paper to the painting, the reds and yellows
must necessarily be deeper. If we look out from the window,
and then turn towards a picture, the whole effect will he gone —
the reflected rays from the picture will be too feeble to produce
their impression ; or if we look upon a sheet of paper, and then
upon a picture, the tone will be deeper, and the warm tints
stronger, but the lights and shades less distinct. If we place
an oil painting, without the frame, upon a large sheet of paper,
or against a white wall, it will appear offensively yellow : this
is because the eye alternately, though insensibly, moves from
the white paper or wall to the painting, which is of a deep tone,
and consequently the browns and yellows are rendered unnatu
rally strong. We see the. necessity of the gilt frame for such a
picture, and the effect that it produces : it does not merely cut
off surrounding objects, but it prepares the eye for the colours
of the painting — it allows, if I may so express it, the painter to
use his art more boldly, and to exaggerate the colours of nature.
Painters proceed by experiment ; and in painting a portrait,
they know that they can represent the features by contrast of
lights and shadows, with very little colour ; but such a portrait
is never popular. If they are to present the likeness without
much contrast of light and shade, they must raise the features
by contrasts of the colours ; hence the carnations are necessarily
exaggerated : but all this is softened down, by throwing a piece
of drapery into the picture ; and the effect of this will be so
striking, from its colours preparing tho eye properly for receiv
ing those of the rest of the picture, that the features, which,
perhaps, before gave the idea of an inflamed countenance, will
appear natural. The common resource of the painter is to
throw in a crimson curtain, or to introduce some flower or piece
of dress, that shall lead the eye, by the succession of tints, to-

BLENDS COLOURS. 257
wards it : and by this means the eye will be prepared to receive
the otherwise exaggerated colours of the portrait : first survey
ing the red curtain, and then the countenance, the whole ap
pears coloured with the modesty of nature.
, Those who hang pictures do not place an historical picture,
painted after the manner of the Bolognese school, with distinct
and abruptly-coloured draperies, by the side of a landscape ;
for the colours of a landscape, to be at all consonant with nature,
must be weak and reduced to a low tone, corresponding with
the effect produced by the intervention of the atmosphere ; its
colours, therefore, would be destroyed by too powerful a con
trast. It is because pictures are, for the most part, painted on
different principles, that there is a difficulty of deciding which
colours are best adapted for the walls of a gallery ; but, gene
rally speaking, the dark, subdued red, or morone, brings out the
colours of paintings ; in other words, if we look on a wall of
this hue, and then turn to the picture, the prevailing green and
yellow tints will appear brighter.
The word " contrast " is used without an exact comprehension
of what it implies. From the illustrations that have been given,
it will be seen that the effect resulting from the proper distri
bution of colours placed together, is produced through the
motion of the eye, combined with the law to which we have
been adverting, of the sensibility of the retina. When we ima
gine that we are comparing colours, we are really experiencing
the effect of the nerve being exhausted by dwelling on one
colour, and becoming more susceptible of the opposite colour.
In drapery, for example, there is such a mixture of different
tints reflected from it, that although one prevail the impression
may be greatly modified by what the eye has previously expe
rienced. If the colouring of the flesh be, as the painter terms
it too "warm," it may be made "cold" by rendering the eye
insensible to the red and yellow rays, and more than usually
susceptible of the blue and purple rays. Every coloured ray
from the flesh is transmitted to the eye; but if the eye has
moved from a yellow or crimson drapery, then the rays of that
kind will be lost for the moment, and the colour of the flesh
will appear less warm, in consequence of the prevalence of the
opposite rays of colour.
It ought to be unsatisfactory to the philosophical student to

258 CHIAROSCURO.
make use of a term without knowing its full meaning : yet
much has been said about contrast and harmony in painting,
as resulting from the arrangement of the colours; the idea
being that the colours placed together are seen at the same
time, and that this gives rise to the effect of which we are all
sensible ; whereas it results from alternately looking at the one
colour and then at the other. The subject might be pleasantly
pursued, but I mean only to vindicate the importance of the
motions of the eye to our enjoyment of colours, whether they
be those of nature or of art.
There is another subject of some interest, namely, the effect
produced upon the retina when the eye is intently fixed upon
an object, and is not permitted to wander from point to point.
This touches on the chiaroscuro of painting; which is not
merely the managing of the lights and shadows, but the pre
serving of the parts of a scene subordinate to the principal
object. There is something unpleasant in a picture, even to the
least experienced eye, when everything is made out, when the
drapery of every figure, or the carvings and ornaments, are all
minutely represented : for, in nature, things are never seen in
such a way. On the other hand, a picture is truly effective,
and felt to be natural, when the eye is led to dwell on the
principal group or principal figure with which it is the artist's
intention to occupy the imagination. With fine mastery of his
art, the painter heightens the colours of the chief parts in his
picture, and subdues, by insensible degrees, those which are
removed from the centre ; and thus he represents the scene as
when we look intently at anything : that is, by making the ob
jects which are near the axis of the eye be seen distinctly — the
other objects retreating, as it were, or rising out less and less
distinctly, in proportion as they recede from the centre. In
the one instance, the artist paints a panorama, where, on turn
ing round, we have the several divisions of the circle presented
before the eye, and the objects visible in each, appearing equally
distinct : in the other, he paints a picture, which represents the
objects, not as when the eye wanders from one to the other,
but where it is fixed with higher interest upon some central
figure, or part of the scene, and the rest falls off subordinately.
Reverting to our main argument, the proofs of beneficence in
the capacities of the living frame, we look naturally to the plea-

EXPRESSION IN THE EYE.

259

mires received through this double property of the eye— its mo
tion and sensibility ; and we perceive that, whilst the varieties
of light and shade are necessary to vision, the coloured rays are
also, by their variety, suited to the higher exercise of this sense.
They do not all equally illuminate objects; nor are they all
equally agreeable to the eye. The yellow, pale green, or isabella
colours, illuminate in the highest degree,* and are the most
agreeable to the sense ; and we cannot but observe, when we
look out on the face of nature, whether to the country, the sea,
or the sky, that these are the prevailing colours. The red ray
illuminates the least, but it irritates the most ; and it is this
variety in the influence of these rays upon the nerve, that con
tinues its exercise, and adds so much to our enjoyment. We
have pleasure from the succession and contrast of colours, inde
pendently of that higher gratification which the mind enjoys
through the influence of association.

OF EXPRESSION IN THE EYE.
In the conclusion of the volume, I took occasion to remark
that natural philosophy sometimes disturbs the mind of a weak
person. I recollect a student who objected to the attitude and
the direction of the eyes upwards, in prayer : " For," said he,
"it is unmeaning ; the globe on which we stand is round, and
the inhabitants in every degree, or division, of the sphere, have
their eyes directed differently, diverging from the earth, and
concentrated to nothing." This foolish observation may lead us
once more to notice the relations between the mind, the body,
and external nature.
The posture, and the expression of reverence, have been uni
versally the same in every period of life, in all stages of society,
and in every clime. On first consideration, it seems merely
natural that, when pious thoughts prevail, man's countenance
should be turned from things earthly, to the purer objects
above. But there is a link in this relation every way worthy of
attention : the eye is raised, whether the canopy over us be
shrouded in darkness, or display all the splendour of noon.
The muscles which move the eye-ball are powerfully affected

* The Astronomer selects for his
telescope a glass which refracts the
pale yellow light in the greatest pro

portion, because it illuminates in
the highest degree and irritates the
least.

260

EXPRESSION IN THE EYE.

in certain conditions of the mind Independently altogether of
the will, the eyes are rolled upwards during mental agony, and
whilst strong emotions of reverence and piety prevail in the
mind. This is a natural sign, stamped upon the human counte
nance, and as peculiar to man as anything which distinguishes
him from the brute. The posture of the body follows neces
sarily, and forms one of those numerous traits of expression
which hold mankind in sympathy.
The same evidence that we brought forward in treating of a
somewhat similar question, on the expression of the hand,
might be adduced here — the works of the great painters, who
have made the sublimer passions of man the subjects of their
art. By the upward direction of the eyes, and the correspond
ence of feature and attitude, in their paintings, they speak to all
mankind. Thus we must admit that the reverential posture
and uplifting of the eyes are natural, whether in the darkened
chamber or under the vault of heaven. They result from the
very constitution of the mind and body, and are too powerful
to be effaced or altered. No sooner does pain or misfortune
subdue a man, or move him to supplication, than the same uni
versal expression prevails. Here is the correspondence of the
mind, the frame, and external nature, by which man is directed
to look for aid from above.

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Cicero's Orations. Literally Trans
lated by C. D. Yonge, B.A. In 4 vols.
Vol. 1. Contains the Orations, against
Verres, Ac. Portrait.
VoL 2. Catiline, Archias, Agrarian
Law, Rablrius, Murena, Sylla, &c.
Vol. 3. Orations for his House, Plancius,
Sextlus, Ccellus, Milo, Ligarins, die
VoL ^4.- Miscellaneous Orations, and
Rhetorical Works; with General In
dex to the four volumes.
—— — on the" Nature of the Gods,
Divination, Fate, Laws, a Republic, <Sso.
- Translated by- C. D. Yonoej. B.A, and
F. Barham.
¦ Academics, De Finibus, and
Tusculan Questions. By C. D. Yonge,
B.A. With Sketch of the Greek Philo
sophy.
¦ Offices, Old Age, Friendship,
Sclplo's Dream, Paradoxes, 4c. Literally
Translated, by R. Edmonds. 3>. 6*.
•  on Oratory and Orators. By
J. S. Watson, M.A.
Demosthenes' Orations. Translated,
with Notes, by C. Rann Kennedy. In 5
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VoL 2. On the, Crown and.' on the Em-

Vol. 3. Against LepHnes, Mldlas, An-
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VoL 6. Miscellaneous Orations.
Dictionary of Latin Quotations. In
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Terms, and Phrases ; and a Collection o
above 600 Greek Quotations. With all the
quantities marked, & English Translations.
, with Index Verbomm. 63
Index Verbomm only. is.
Diogenes Laertius. Lives and Opin
ions of the Ancient Philosophers. Trans
lated, with Notes, by C. D. Yonge.
Epictetus. Discourses with Enchei-
ridion and. Fragments. Translated with
Notes, by George Long, M.A.
Euripides. Literally Translated. 2vols,
,. VoL 1. Hecuba, Orestes, Medea, Hippo-
lytns, Alcestls, Bacchte, HeraclidK,
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Tauris-
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Greek Anthology. Literally Trans
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Herodotus. A New and Literal
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Hesiod, Callimachus, and Theognis.
Literally Translated, with Notes, by J.
Banes, M.AJ
Homer's Iliad. Literally Translated,
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rally Translated.
Horace. Literally Translated, by
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Justin, Cornelius Nepos, and Eutro ¦
pins. Literally Translated, with Notes
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Juvenal, Persius, Sulpicia, and Lu-
. cilius. By L. Evans, M.A. With the
Metrical Version by Gifford. Frontispiece
Livy. A new and Literal Translation.
By Dr. Spillan and others. In 4 vols.
VoL 1. Contains Books 1—8.
VoL 2. Books 9—26.
Vol. 3. Books 27—36.
Vol. 4. Books 37 to the end ; and Index.
Lucan's Pharsalia. Translated, with
Notes, by H. T. Riley.
Lucretius. Literally Translated, with
Notes, by the Rev. J. S. Watson, M.A.
- And the Metrical Version by, J. M. Good.
Martial's Epigrams, complete. Lite
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one or more Verse Translations selected
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other sources. With a copious Index.
Double volume (660 pages). 7t. 6<J.
Ovid's Works, complete. Literally
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Vol.- 3. Heroldes, Art of Love, Ac.
Pindar. Literally Translated, by Daw
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Plato's Works. Translated by the
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VoL 1. The Apology of Socrates, Crlto
Phsedo, Gorgias, Protagoras, Phfedros,
Thesetetus, Euthyphron, Lysis.
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phist, Statesman, Cratylus, Panne-
nides, and the Banquet.
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Vol. 6. The Laws.
VoL 6. The Doubtful Works. Witt
General Index. 27

A CATALOGUE OF

Plato's Dialogues, an Analysis and
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Flautus's Comedies. Literally Trans
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In 2 vols.
Pliny's Natural History. Translated,
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Propertius, Petronius, and Johannes
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Quintilian's Institutes of Oratory.
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Standard Library Atlas of Classical
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Suetonius' Lives of the Twelve
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Tacitus. Literally Translated, with
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Terence and Fhsedrus. By H, T.
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Theocritus, Bion, Moschus, and
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Thucydides. Literally Translated by
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Virgil. Literally Translated by Da
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Vol. 2. Cyropsedla and Hellenics. By
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29

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