THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
CV; 
 
THE 
 
 SERVANTS OF THE STOMACH. 
 
 BY JEAN MACE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "THE HISTORY OF A MOUTHFUL OF BREAD," "HOME FAIRY TALES," 
 ETC., ETC. 
 
 REPRINTED FROM THE LONDON TRANSLATION, REVISED AND CORRECTED. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 FRANKLIN SQUARE. 
 1868. 
 
BY JEAN MACE. 
 
 HOME FAIRY TALES (Contes du Petit-CIiateau\ Translated by MARY L. 
 BOOTH. With Engravings, izmo, Cloth, $i 75. 
 
 THE SERVANTS OF THE STOMACH. Reprinted from the London Trans- 
 lation, Revised and Corrected. i2mo, Cloth, $i 75. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF A MOUTHFUL OF BREAD: and its Effect on the 
 Organization of Men and Animals. Translated from the Eighth French 
 Edition by Mrs. ALFRED GATTY. lamo, Cloth, $i 75. ~ 
 
 THE HISTORY OF THE SENSES AND THOUGHT. Translated by MARY 
 L. BOOTH. i2mo. (In Press.) 
 
 PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK. 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by HARPER & BROTHERS, 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 
 District of New York. 
 
MH5" 
 
 TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 M. MACE'S books are now so well known to those in- 
 terested in the education of children, that, in offering this 
 translation to the public, I feel that my best hope of 
 success rests on his name. 
 
 t 
 
 It is about two years since Mrs. Gatty's able pen 
 presented our English children with a translation of 
 " Une Bouchee de Pain," under the title of " A Bit of 
 Bread." 
 
 The " Bit of Bread," though complete in itself, forms 
 the first of a " Series of Letters to a Child on the Life 
 of Man and Animals," each of which in its turn em- 
 braces a higher and more extended range of natural his- 
 tory. First, we began with " The history of life, as 
 sustained and supported in the human race." We next 
 studied " The history of life in the lower animals ; " now 
 we come to man himself, God's greatest, noblest work. 
 We trace his exquisite structure, his wonderful superi- 
 ority over the lower forms of animal life, and, taking 
 the stomach as the centre of the vital system, we care- 
 
 (iii) 
 
 JV131S9J..6 
 
iv TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 fully review the greater number of its band of servants, 
 and study the various duties assigned to each, for " How 
 knoweth discontented man what a train of ills might 
 follow, if the lowest menial of nature knew not her 
 secret office ? " 
 
 Entering as heartily as Mrs. Gatty does into the 
 charm of M. Mace's style, and, as she justly observes, 
 " admiring with what marvellous ingenuity and beautiful 
 skill he has brought the great leading anatomical and 
 physical facts of life out of the depths of scientific learn- 
 ing, and made them comprehensible to a child." I have 
 endeavored to follow in her steps, and to render the 
 English edition as nearly as possible in the spirit of 
 the original, suppressing one or two short passages un- 
 suited to English taste, or which would have lost their 
 character in the translation. 
 
 Many persons will probably mile when they discover 
 that " The Little Kingdom," is a translation of " Les 
 Serviteurs de 1'Estomac," but few will guess how greatly 
 the selection of the title perplexed me. We, in this 
 country, are somewhat fastidious in allusions to the sub- 
 ject of 1'Estomac, yet so much in the first chapter de- 
 pends upon the French title that I could not entirely 
 dismiss the obnoxious term. From those, then, who 
 would disapprove, I claim indulgence, in consideration 
 of the amount of valuable information the book contains. 
 
 These subjects are new to our young people, but not 
 on that account the less important. This is an advancing 
 age. Happy they who are enabled to combine instruc- 
 
tion with amusement, to awaken in a child's mind a 
 thirst for information, a love for subjects worthy of 
 study, and who teach them that the servants of our ma- 
 terial body do not merely minister to our animal wants, 
 but also to the cultivation of the intellect, and to the 
 gratification of the perception of beauty. 
 
 The study of the works of the Creator is as elevating 
 as it is delightful, for the more deeply we accustom our- 
 selves to search into the wonders around us, the more 
 clearly we discover the wisdom which is displayed even 
 in the lowest forms of creation. 
 
 " Search out the wisdom of nature, there is a depth in all her 
 
 doings ; 
 
 Oh, frozen is thy heart if it glow not with gratitude for all things ; 
 In the 'perfect circle of creation not an atom could be spared, 
 From earth's magnetic zone to the bindweed round a hawthorn." 
 
 Like Mrs. Gatty, I also am greatly indebted to an 
 able medical friend, who not only first suggested my 
 undertaking the translation of " Les Serviteurs," but 
 with an accurate knowledge of both languages, materially 
 assisted me by his revisal of the MS. Any success my 
 little book may obtain will therefore in great part be 
 due to him, -as without his aid these pages would never 
 have been sent to press. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. INTRODUCTION 9 
 
 H. MAN. THE BONES, 20 
 
 in. LIFE OF THE BONES, 28 
 
 IV. THE MARROW, 37 
 
 V. THE JOINTS, ...'... 42 
 
 VI. THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN, 51 
 
 VH. THE VERTEBRAL COUJW3-(Continued.) .... 59 
 
 VIII. THE HEAD AND CHEST, 70 
 
 IX. THE ARMS AND LEGS, 83 
 
 X. THE ARMS AND LEGS (Continued,') 92 
 
 XI. THE ARMS AND LEGS ( Continued,} 103 
 
 XH. THE ARMS AND LEGS (Continued,) 109 
 
 XHI. THE MUSCLES, 119 
 
 XIV. THE MUSCIXS-Wontinued,) 126 
 
 XV. THE MUSCLES (Continued,) '131 
 
 XVI. THE MUSCLES- (Continued,) 138 
 
 XVH. ATTITUDES, 146 
 
 XVm. ATTITUDES-CCbn/Ji/merf,) 153 
 
 XIX. MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY, . ... 162 
 
 XX. THE MOVEMENTS-(ttwnwed.) 172 
 
 XXI. THE MOVEMENTS (Continued,) 180 
 
 XXH. ELECTRICITY, 189 
 
 XXm. ELECTRICITY (Continued,) . . . . . . . .197 
 
 XXIV. ELECTRICITY (Continued.) 207 
 
 XXV. ELECTRICITY-((70^zm^,) 218 
 
 XXVT. THE NERVES AND SPINAL MARROW 227 
 
 (vil) 
 
viii CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER. PAGE, 
 
 XXVH. THE BRAIN, . '."'- .- . . .235 
 
 XXVIH. THE BRAIN (Continued,) . . . ... . .242 
 
 XXIX. ANIMAL ELECTRICITY, 250 
 
 Tnnr. VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS, . . . . . . .256 
 
 XXXI. VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS (Continued,) .... 262 
 
 XXXH. THE CEREBELLUM, . . . ; 270 
 
 XXXHI. THE NERVOUS CENTRE, . . . . ' , . . .275 
 XXXIV. THE NERVOUS CENTRE (Continued,) . . . . . 235 
 
 XXXV. THE INVOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS 295 
 
 XXXVI. THE GREAT SYMPATHETIC NERVE, . . 304 
 
THE 
 
 SERVANTS OF THE STOMACH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 MY dear child, I have already related in my history 
 of a " Mouthful of Bread," a portion of your own his- 
 tory, that which is going on within you in silence and 
 obscurity, without your thinking about it, without your 
 being even conscious of it ; and during most of this time 
 you have been obliged to take me at my word. 
 
 What remains for me to speak about now is less mys- 
 terious : that is, your arms, your legs, your little nose, 
 your large eyes which are staring at me, your ears which 
 listen to me all those things which are your constant 
 companions, and the history of which ought, it seems to 
 me, to interest you still more. 
 
 All these belong to the walking machine, which is 
 the companion of our eating machine. 
 
 You are grown taller and wiser since we began to 
 study together. You are no longer the little girl that 
 knew nothing, and I no longer require to speak to you 
 as I should to a little child. We will therefore lay aside 
 the terms walking and eating machines, which did very 
 well for a beginner, but which are not so good as those 
 1* (9) 
 
10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 used by scientific men, though they were prettier and 
 more suited to you at first. . In science, as elsewhere, the 
 prettiest is not always the best. 
 
 This eating machine we ought properly to have 
 called the nourishing machine. To nourish one's self 
 is to change into one's own substance those foreign in- 
 gredients which enter into the body, and eating is only 
 the beginning of this grand operation. Self-nourishment 
 is a book of which eating is the introduction. Recollect 
 all the journeys our mouthful of bread took. Once eaten, 
 through how many organs it passed stomach, heart, 
 lungs, veins, arteries, and the like ! All these organs 
 combined to perform a single act the act of nutrition ; 
 and nothing is simpler or clearer than the name given 
 them by scientific men viz., 
 
 OEGANS OF NUTRITION. 
 
 It is the same with the walking machine. Its principal 
 duty, and the only one with which we shall occupy our- 
 selves, is to provide the eating machine with substances 
 on which it must work. To make hare soup, your 
 mother's cookery book tells you, " you must first catch 
 your hare." This is the primary condition imposed on 
 every cook, and on Mr. Stomach as well as other cooks ; 
 and to catch the hare, assistants are necessary. Many 
 of our organs act the same part toward the stomach in 
 this preliminary operation without which nutrition is 
 impossible, and these organs are not used for walking 
 only ; they are intended, each in its own way, to put us 
 in relation, in connexion, if you prefer the term, with those 
 substances which are to have the honor of lodging 
 within us. Hence the true name of the walking ma- 
 chine 
 
INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 ORGANS OF RELATION. 
 
 And do you clearly understand the meaning of being in 
 relation to substances ? 
 
 Not exactly, perhaps. 
 
 When you wish to be put in relation to, or communica- 
 tion with any person, you apply to your friends, who fur- 
 nish you with the individual's address, conduct you to 
 him, or procure you an introduction. We have friends 
 who render us the same service with the substances in 
 question, and who are always ready at their post to put 
 us in communication with them : these are the organs of 
 relation. 
 
 The united working of these two sets of organs forms 
 within us two very distinct kinds of life, each of which 
 has received its distinctive name from learned men. 
 
 The" first they have named Organic Life, which sig- 
 nifies life common to all beings possessing organs. 
 
 In the last chapter . of " A Mouthful of Bread," 
 which has for its title " On the Nutrition of Plants," 
 I have shown that a blade of grass nourishes itself as 
 truly as man does, and what is more, by the same process, 
 and thus far it possesses the same life that he does. 
 
 The other form of life which we have yet to study, 
 and which has its seat in the organs of relation, has 
 been called Animal Life, that is to say, life peculiar to 
 animals. Those who have thus named it are perfectly 
 sure that the smallest trace of this life cannot be found 
 in vegetables ; for imagine how absurd it would sound to 
 say, the animal life of vegetables ! As to myself, I never 
 could feel so sure about this, and I must therefore in my 
 correspondence with you reject these terms organic and 
 animal life, which settle the question rather cavalierly ; 
 and I shall say, life of nutrition and life of relation, 
 
12 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 thus naming them according to their nature, and leaving 
 to the Almighty the secret of the limits of their domain. 
 Before concluding this study, I shall endeavour to show 
 that vegetables are not reduced to mere simple eating 
 machines, that there is also among them a something 
 which feels and moves, and that the difference in this 
 respect is very small between them and what we call the 
 lowest order of animals. 
 
 These two forms of life, that of nutrition and that of 
 relation, I have already noticed, and I have marked out 
 very clearly the ground where each manifests itself. I 
 one day said to you, 
 
 " Your body is a little kingdom, of which you should 
 be queen, but queen of the frontiers only. The arms, 
 the legs, the lips," the eyelids, all the external parts, are 
 your very humble servants ; at your slightest bidding 
 they move or keep still ; your will is their law. "But in 
 the interior you are quite unknown. There, there is a 
 little republic to itself, ruling itself independently of 
 your orders, which it would laugh at, if you attempted 
 to issue them." 
 
 We have travelled . together through this little re- 
 public. It is now the turn of the little kingdom ; and 
 if the first journey has been an interesting one, I sincerely 
 hop'e this second one will not weary you. Queens have 
 always found pleasure in travelling through their own 
 kingdoms. 
 
 "Why then,' 7 you ask, "have you put this strange 
 title, the ' Servants of the Stomach/ to your new task ? 
 If all that we are going to search into has only been 
 made to serve the stomach, of what am I queen, and how 
 can I be proud of my royalty ?" 
 
 Alas ! my dear child, I am only a professor of physi- 
 ology, as it is called. I have but one thing to teach 
 
INTRODUCTION. 13 
 
 you, viz., how this little body, which you have in common 
 with the animals, exists ; and though I love you with 
 all my heart, I can see in you during our lesson nothing 
 but a little animal. The first duty, or, rather, let us 
 say, the first necessity of the animal, is to satisfy this 
 imperious master who nourishes the whole, but only on 
 condition that the whole works for him. Yes, your sub- 
 jects are his servants, because you yourself are his 
 servant, and you rule for his benefit. What I say here 
 is of the animal. Happy those upon whom it devolves 
 to teach you the duties, to awaken you to a sense of the 
 necessities of another life, of a life superior to that of 
 the animal ! These have the greatest, the easiest, and the 
 most interesting task. They will teach you that all 
 these organs which we are going to pass under review, 
 were not given to you only to be servants of your stom- 
 ach, and that, without quitting the great question of 
 nourishment, your hands, for instance, were also made 
 to give as well as to take it, your legs to carry it where 
 it was wanting, as well as to carry you where the nour- 
 ishment is to be found. We have, thank God, relations 
 with other objects as well as witl^limentary substances, 
 and the organs whose duty.it is to accomplish the acts 
 of the life of relation do not confine their services en- 
 tirely to the stomach. Some children might ask why 
 these organs are called their servants, seeing that break- 
 fast, luncheon, dinner, and supper follow one another 
 regularly every day, without any apparent labor on the 
 part of their organs. They are, let me remark, in pass- 
 ing, better able than others to employ these organs on 
 something nobler, such as self-improvement, making 
 themselves useful to their parents, in giving pleasure to 
 one another, etc.. etc. I must nevertheless assure you 
 that the organs carry on their first duty though it may 
 
14 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 not be their only one, even in a little child who does 
 not appear to require them in order to enable it to 
 eat. 
 
 These organs, we have already said, are appointed 
 to put us in relation to the substances which we eat. 
 Now, when you are seated at table, with a nice plate of 
 fruit before you, which of the organs is intrusted to pres- 
 ent it to you ? 
 
 " There is only one," you reply, " and that is my hand, 
 which carries the spoon to my mouth." 
 
 Indeed ! is that the only one ? What, then, of the eye 
 which enables you to see the pretty color of the fruit, 
 and the nose which tells you how good it smells, and 
 the tongue, that dear little gate-keeper, what do you 
 think of it does he say nothing for himself ? You have 
 there at once three organs of relation quite as important 
 as the hand ; for each of them in its own fashion puts you 
 in connexion with this precious substance called soup, 
 without which little girls would never grow to be women. 
 
 But you understood that this work is -only an amuse- 
 ment. With a child seated at table truly the business 
 is more than half accomplished : what is placed before 
 it only requires to be eaten. Some of these organs of 
 relation can sleep at their ease, and those who watch do 
 not require to fatigue themselves with the work. To see 
 them all actively employed, let us picture to ourselves 
 a wolf in the forest awaiting the hour of dinner. 
 
 The substances which are to form his repast are not 
 all there within his reach, quite ready for his appetite. 
 They ramble far off in the brushwood, under the skin of 
 a goat or a deer, and it is no easy affair for him to put 
 himself into useful relation to them. Now ! see how the 
 organs all work together in order to accomplish this 
 difficult task. Look how many must engage in the 
 
INTRODUCTION. 15 
 
 chase : the eyes on the watch, the ear erect, the nose to 
 windward three servants of his stomach who are on 
 the look-out for him, and who report faithfully if they 
 see, hear, or smell anything suitable. The prey thus 
 tracked out by them, the next step is to obtain possess- 
 ion of it. For this purpose the bones, the muscles and 
 the legs of the animal are called into action, fresh serv- 
 ants put suddenly in motion by a mysterious power which 
 shows itself as by enchantment on the report of the 
 scouts, and which has its seat in certain organs, the names 
 of which you know quite well. There are the nerves, 
 which must also be ranked among our band of servants, 
 for without them the legs could no more move than 
 could two pieces of wood. But this is not all. The 
 power which the legs obey is a blind power requiring to 
 be directed, and the indications of the eye, ear, and nose 
 could not alone suffice for this, on account of the 
 distance of the game and its own natural cunning, if 
 there were not something more. What can it be ? I 
 should find it very difficult to tell you exactly what ; 
 at any rate, there is certainly a something which 
 estimates the value of their indications, compares them 
 with former indications of the same nature given in 
 similar circumstances, decides what is to be done, and 
 gives its orders accordingly. This something acts by 
 means of an organ, so far as we can judge, and this organ 
 is also a servant of the stomach. I am very sorry for 
 the brain, for he it is, if this servitude should cause him to 
 descend from the first rank. But if wolves could speak, 
 they would tell us that with them the stomach is of 
 more importance than the brain, and that the latter is 
 only the principal, the head one, if you like, of all the 
 other servants of the former. The whole of this army 
 of servants sometimes work for hours, before the teeth 
 
16 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 can take, their turn, and what to you is the beginning of 
 the task, is the end of it to the wolf. 
 
 Now, you can at a glance comprehend the full extent 
 of the study we propose to .undertake. 
 
 In order that the animal may be able to seek its food, 
 it must be provided with an apparatus to carry it where 
 that food is to be found, a regular machine, of which 
 with us, the bones form the framework, and the muscles 
 the cordage. 
 
 We shall, then, first study the bones and muscles, and 
 I shall endeavour to make you understand the mechan- 
 ism by means of which all the movements you execute 
 are so easily effected, and that without your knowing 
 how. 
 
 In order that this machine may act, it requires, like 
 all those invented by human industry, a power to put 
 it in motion. I do not promise to tell you exactly 
 what this power is, because it is not perfectly under- 
 stood ; but I can show you the apparatus by means of 
 which it is produced, and which is composed of nerves 
 and brain. 
 
 After that, I shall take the scouts in their turn. These 
 scouts are engaged in making discoveries, and are, in 
 other words, the five senses. From thence we shall be 
 obliged to make an excursion into what is called phys- 
 ical science, for how can we explain the eye without 
 speaking of light, or the ear without speaking of sound ? 
 But do not complain, for these are very interesting sub- 
 jects which it is well to know about at any age, and, 
 therefore, much better to be known at once. The sense 
 of touch will lead us to consider the skin, its principal 
 seat, but which also fulfills many other functions, one of 
 the most important being that of covering and protect- 
 ing the whole body, as a paper cover protects the deli- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 17 
 
 cate binding of a book. Lastly, we shall say a word 
 about the intelligence dwelling in the brain ; and here, 
 my dear young friend, those who inquire the most pro- 
 foundly into it are the most perplexed, therefore you 
 must not ask me much upon this subject. I will tell 
 you what is known, or at least what is presumed to be 
 known, and for the remainder you will do as I do, you 
 will wait. 
 
 This history of the servants of the stomach will be 
 carried on like that of a " Mouthful of Bread." We shall 
 first study these servants in man, where they are seen in 
 full perfection," then in animals, where they are seen 
 constantly retrograding and becoming effaced, in pro- 
 portion as they are further removed from man, until 
 they at last end, in some way, by all disappearing. Only 
 this once, in order not to go again over the same ground, 
 we will follow an order inverse of the former. Instead 
 of commencing with those species nearest to man, and 
 descending towards the lower animals, we shall take the 
 latter as our, starting-point, and thence we shall ascend 
 to man, gathering up one by one on our journey all the 
 relative organs he possesses, instead of leaving them by 
 degrees on the road as we did with the organs of nutri- 
 tion. In this manner you will better satisfy yourself 
 that the animal machine is everywhere alike, and that 
 the organs we meet with are always the same, only they 
 are not always found in the same degree of perfection, 
 and some of them may in certain animals be wanting. 
 They may, in this state, be compared to the outline of a 
 drawing ; the strokes of the pencil are not all there, are 
 not all finished, and in the first sketch it is often dif- 
 ficult to guess the subject of the composition, but a 
 painter's eye will not be deceived by it. 
 
 Then, to conclude our research, we shall glance over 
 
18 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 those traces of animal life that I pointed out to you a 
 short time since as existing in vegetables, and by means 
 of which they seem to fraternise with the lowest forms 
 of animal life ; forms which appear to us almost re- 
 stricted to the narrow limits of vegetable life. I shall, 
 however, have little to say on this subject, for it is a 
 question that has not as yet been studied as it deserves 
 to be, at least to my knowledge. I believe, neverthe- 
 less, that you will see enough to make you understand 
 how modestly, how diffidently we should speak of nature, 
 and how difficult it is to trace with certainty the divi- 
 sions and subdivisions in this mysterious world of life, 
 created by one fiat of the divine thought. 
 
 But this is a little beyond you, my young friend, and 
 so here let me stop, for you have had enough for the 
 present. Do not, however, run away from this lesson 
 with the idea that whenever the stomach commands, you 
 must obey. I have told you already, and cannot repeat 
 it too often, it is only an animal which yields implicit 
 obedience to its stomach. By reason, by conscience, by 
 the power of the will, you are called to mount higher, 
 and this is precisely the object proposed in the educa- 
 tion of children, who would never make much progress 
 if left to themselves. But this is your affair and not 
 mine. I am examining a walking machine, primarily 
 intended to work for an eating machine, and I need not 
 concern myself with anything else. Let those who 
 would be ashamed of being simply machines make their 
 own reflections. 
 
 Still, let us understand ourselves. It is very well 
 that the queen of this little kingdom should not always 
 unthinkingly place her subjects at the disposal of her 
 rival, the republic, and that she should know how to main- 
 tain her own authority when necessary. That, on the 
 
INTRODUCTION. 19 
 
 other hand, it will not do to oppress this rival, nor re- 
 fuse her what is just, merely for the pleasure of oppos- 
 ing her. She has also her rights, which cannot be in- 
 fringed with impunity. To allow the life confided to 
 her to languish, is to expose the higher life to languish 
 also, for all our organs depend one on the other, and 
 the stomach has a way of revenging itself on those who 
 do not care for it properly ; it leaves the whole quietly 
 to perish ; and the greatest sufferers are generally those 
 who were formerly the greatest boasters. 
 
 It is but the old fable of La Fontaine's of the " belly 
 and its members," of which what we have already said 
 is only the explanation. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE BONES. 
 
 WHEN I was a child I was always running, and as 
 constantly falling down. I do not mention this as any- 
 thing extraordinary ; but I recollect that in those days 
 a fall was of no consequence : no sooner was I on the 
 ground than I got up again ; the thought of breaking 
 arms or legs never came into my head. 
 
 Now that I am a staid professor, a fall is a serious 
 affair for me, and I do my best to avoid one when I run ; 
 nevertheless, two or three years ago, I do not remember 
 upon what occasion, I found myself extended full length 
 upon the ground, as in bygone days, and to my disgrace 
 be it said, I had some difficulty in getting up again. I 
 even think that involuntarily I put my hand to the spot 
 that had received the shock, to ascertain that no injury 
 had befallen me. I am then, as you see, already very 
 far removed from my indian-rubber-ball condition, and if 
 I should live to be an old man, the difference will be 
 greater still. I must take care when I walk, for the 
 risk of breaking a limb by falling would be consider- 
 able, and broken bones reunite less readily when one is 
 old. 
 
 You also, my dear child, are accustomed to fall, and 
 think nothing of it ; but, believe me, such will not 
 always be the case. I am no solitary exception ; my 
 history is but that of every other person. 
 
 But how is this difference between grown-up people 
 
 (20) 
 
THE BONES. 21 
 
 and children to be accounted for, as the bones of the 
 former, from being more solid, would naturally break 
 far less easily ? 
 
 It is accounted for by the manner in which the bones 
 grow in the body, and the changes they undergo in pro- 
 portion as age advances. 
 
 You may often have seen meat-jelly, or, more properly 
 speaking, bone-jelly, transparent and trembling upon a 
 a dish. If you go to the cook whilst she is preparing 
 it, you will see it is principally extracted from the bones 
 of calves ; thus, what cooks call jelly, scientific men 
 call gelatine, and as gelatine is drawn from the bones, it 
 is apparently because it is contained in them. In so 
 great a degree does bone contain this gelatine, that the 
 latter forms its basis, and the earthy substance, phos- 
 phate of lime, which by degrees hardens it into bone, is 
 only, so to speak, a stranger who comes to lodge little 
 by little within the flexible meshes of the gelatinous 
 tissue. 
 
 You will, perhaps, hardly believe, upon looking at a 
 ham or mutton bone, that any soft substance is contained 
 within the bone. We have, however, a very easy method 
 of ascertaining this, which I will explain to you ; it 
 will give you an idea of the way in which people set 
 about discovering what is hidden within a variety of 
 bodies. 
 
 A naughty woman once upon a time gave her little 
 girl a cup filled with powdered sugar and marble dust 
 mixed together, telling her she should have nothing to 
 eat until she had separated all the marble dust without 
 losing a grain, and without leaving any sugar among it. 
 Many children in her place would have been puzzled 
 how to act, and would probably have gone supperless to 
 bed ; but this little girl, who had plenty of common 
 
22 THE BONES. 
 
 sense, was not going to starve for such a trifle, so she 
 emptied the contents of the cup into a large jug of water, 
 when all the sugar melted, and the marble dust was soon 
 left all alone at the bottom of the jug, not a grain of it 
 missing, nor an atom of sugar remaining. 
 
 Those who discovered the means of separating the 
 gelatine from its earthy companion were equally intel- 
 ligent with the little girl. There is a liquid which has 
 no effect upon gelatine, and in which the earthy sub- 
 stance with which it is filled, melts exactly as sugar does 
 in water ; this is called muriatic acid, a difficult name, 
 but I cannot alter it. Allow the bone, which seems to 
 you so hard, to soak for a certain time in some of this 
 liquid. When you take it out it will be supple and flex- 
 ible, will still retain its shape, but it will be reduced to 
 a gelatinous tissue, retaining no trace of the earthy sub- 
 stance which had taken up its abode within its meshes. 
 
 Whilst the bone is in this state, try to break it by 
 throwing it on the ground ; you will never succeed, 
 though it will bend, and even rebound like a piece of 
 indian-rubber. 
 
 Well, then, in children the gelatine of the bones has 
 not acquired its consistency, there are parts even 
 where only gelatine is to be found ; for instance, at the 
 extremities of the arms and legs, which only become 
 perfectly hard at about the age of twenty-one. This 
 is about the period when persons cease to grow, be- 
 cause the work of growth, which takes place in the 
 soft parts of the bones, ceases as soon as they become 
 hard. 
 
 Let me give you an example that will prove the prim- 
 itive softness of the bone in certain parts of the body. 
 Place your hand gently upon the top of the head of a 
 very young child as it lies in its nurse's arms ; you will 
 
THE BONES. 23 
 
 feel the substance yield under the pressure of your finger, 
 as if the bony arch of the skull was not complete, and in 
 reality, at this period of existence, the different portions 
 of which the skull is formed are only joined together by 
 a species of gelatinous membrane, or, as it is termed by 
 medical men, the fontanelle, or opening of the head ; 
 from this it results that the skull yields to the slightest 
 pressure, and may be moulded with the hand to any 
 form you wish. It* is said, that the American savages 
 take advantage of this softness of the skull to flatten 
 their childrens' heads in infancy, according to the fashion 
 of the tribe to which they belong. But it is a barbarous 
 practice, from which the poor little creatures derive no 
 benefit, for who ever gains by violently trying to alter 
 the order established by Him who formed the human 
 frame, and who knows what is best for each of His 
 children ? 
 
 To go back to our gelatine, you can understand that 
 so long as it remains free in a portion of the bones, the 
 latter preserve a certain degree of elasticity, and then is 
 the time one can fall with the least chance of endanger- 
 ing a limb. Still do not trust to this, and be too rash, 
 for should the fall be severe they will break even in 
 children at their already hardened portions. If some 
 heedless persons have the good fortune to escape, as your 
 humble servant did, others are occasionally maimed for 
 the rest of their lives, which is neither amusing to them- 
 selves nor their relations. 
 
 In proportion as a child progresses towards manhood, 
 the earthy deposit is always increasing. It is about two- 
 thirds of the weight of the bone in an adult, which, you 
 must know, is a term applied to persons supposed to have 
 attained their full growth. At this period, the bones 
 being much less flexible will more readily snap. Later 
 
24 THE BONES. 
 
 in life, as old age comes on, the proportion of gelatine 
 gradually diminishes, and the bones become exceedingly 
 brittle. Thus you will understand how carefully elderly 
 people should be saved from all risk of a fall, to sa^ 
 nothing of the respect and attention due to age. 
 
 I need scarcely tell you that gelatine is not found 
 within the bone in the same form as that in which you 
 are accustomed to see it on the table. If it were it could 
 not have much strength or solidity. It is condensed in 
 the bones in a compact, elastic, and resisting mass of 
 shining, pearly white matter or substance, which is called 
 cartilage. Take hold of the tip of your ear and the end 
 of your nose, and you will feel what is called cartilage. 
 The substance on the end of a knuckle of veal, which 
 you sometimes crunch between your teeth, is also carti- 
 lage ; and, to give you one more example, let me mention 
 the bones of the skate, which may be crunched, and are 
 all cartilaginous. 
 
 It is desirable you should know that the globules of 
 blood (a history of which I have already given you at 
 some length) do not enter within the cartilages. The 
 blood penetrates into them, no doubt, seeing they are 
 formed and kept up by it ; but it is the serum only to 
 which admission is granted, the globules being left at 
 the entrance. Kead over again the chapter on " The 
 Composition of the Blood," if you do not clearly recollect 
 what I mean by serum.* 
 
 Why this exclusion of the globules ? I cannot tell 
 you ; for the canals which convey the serum are assu- 
 redly sufficiently large to allow the globules to enter. 
 For information on this subject, I must refer you to one 
 of my former lessons on the " Nutrition of the Organs," 
 in which the history of the bones was only touched upon. 
 * See " A Mouthful of Bread," page 234. 
 
THE BONES. 25 
 
 I there told you how each of our organs has its own 
 peculiar preferences, and takes from the blood only the 
 portion suited to it ; like dainty persons who select at 
 dinner from the different dishes, and will not eat of all 
 which come to table. It seems the cartilage belongs to 
 this dainty class, and that the globules, so highly appre- 
 ciated elsewhere, are not suited to its taste. This is the 
 only reason I can give you. 
 
 The extremities of the bones which meet at your el- 
 bow I only mention these, but .the others have passed 
 through the same stages these extremities at the time 
 of your birth were nothing but cartilage. By degrees 
 these cartilages have strengthened ; they have passed 
 from a pearly clear white to a dull thick white ; then 
 they have taken a yellow tinge ; at last, one fine day, a 
 red spot suddenly appeared. This spot was formed by 
 the globules of blood that had effected an entrance: At 
 your present age, thoughts enter you head which you 
 would not have listened to when you were younger. 
 This is what has taken place in your elbow with the 
 cartilages. Grown strong, they have listened to reason, 
 and have opened a way to these energetic globules, which 
 only asked permission to enter, in order to transform 
 them into a state of bone, and to do the duty bone is 
 expected to perform. The globules immediately set 
 themselves to their work, and began to manufacture what 
 appeared like a star, the rays issuing from which were 
 of a stony nature, small in number and thin at first, but 
 which, increasing and multiplying, finished at length by 
 uniting and incrusting the end of the cartilage. This 
 work, which is called the work of ossification, has been 
 going on within you ever since, and the earthy deposit 
 is constantly gaining upon the cartilage. When you 
 perceive by your dresses that you have stopped growing, 
 2 
 
26 THE BONES. 
 
 you may take it for granted that the incrustation is com- 
 plete, and the bone at the extremity firmly unites to that 
 in the middle. 
 
 Let us now talk a little about this wonderful earthy 
 substance, which the globules of blood manufacture so 
 artistically. I told you, in its proper place, when speak- 
 ing of the teeth, which are quite a distinct species of 
 bone, that this was phosphate of lime ; that is to say, 
 phosphorus and lime, combined with a certain quantity 
 of that same oxygen of which we spoke so much in refer- 
 ence to combustion. 
 
 I did not then tell you all I had to say. Phosphate 
 of lime, it is true, forms the principal ingredient in the 
 earthy portion of bone, but it is not the only element. 
 Without wishing to fatigue you with a history of all its 
 companions, the greater number being insignificant as 
 regards quantity, there is one I must mention, because it 
 is of some importance. It forms a sixth part of the in- 
 gredients entering into the formation of our bones, and 
 we shall meet with it again by and by, occupying a most 
 important position in shells, which are the bones of shell- 
 fish, bones which are to be found outside instead of inside 
 the animal ; that is the sole difference. This is carbon- 
 ate of lime, the result of the marriage between our old 
 friends carbonic acid and lime. 
 
 And can you tell me of what the Paris houses are 
 built ? They are built of this very carbonate of lime 
 which the globules of blood manufacture in your arms 
 and legs, and, what is more, of carbonate of lime which 
 is manufactured almost in the same way. It is derived, 
 in a great measure, from an innumerable host of imper- 
 ceptible animals, each one of which constructed a shell, 
 which, in dying, he left behind him. All this took place 
 long, long ago, much longer than you can imagine ; and 
 it is from the mass of these shells, hardened by time, that 
 
THE BONES. 27 
 
 the rubblestone of which .almost all the Paris houses are 
 built has been hewn. You thus see that our internal 
 manufacture of stony material is not peculiar to man ; 
 but that this same manufacture has been widely spread 
 over the earth ever since life had its beginning there. 
 
 The phosphate of lime, the carbonate of lime, and the 
 other earthy ingredients glide so easily through the 
 thickness of the primitive cartilage, as in some degree to 
 form a new bone enclosed in the first, and which in its 
 turn can be separated by a far more simple process than 
 by the use of muriatic acid. 
 
 No great amount of science is required to discover 
 this, and you can try the experiment any moment if you 
 like. All you have to do is to throw the bone into the 
 fire. The gelatine burns and is no more seen, the earthy 
 portion only remains. Weigh the bone before you burn 
 it, and afterwards, you will at once perceive that some- 
 thing of the weight has been lost in the burning. In 
 other respects, its appearance will be unchanged ; only 
 the bone will be drier, more porous, and more brittle. 
 This will easily be understood, because the organic sub- 
 stance which surrounds the bone, with its flexible and 
 resisting arms, has been consumed by the fire. 
 
 If, then, we have within us, in the heart, as I once told 
 you, a sort of vegetable, a kind of animated tree which 
 sends its roots to the intestines in search of sap, and its 
 branches to the lungs in search of air, we have in the 
 bones, a mixture of several minerals where organic and 
 inorganic, or dead and living substances, struggle for 
 the mastery from the beginning to the end of life. Man 
 is not simply the king of creation : he is an epitome of 
 it, and little girls are far more interested than they 
 imagine in becoming acquainted with everything exist- 
 ing in the lower ranges of creation, for it is all to be 
 found in their own bodies. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 LIFE OF THE BONES. 
 
 THESE stony portions of our flesh, these living stones 
 form in the midst of our organs a world of their own, 
 remaining in Home degree strangers to all the agitations, 
 the tremors, and the movements of general life. There 
 is great sympathy between the different parts of the 
 body ; all languish or prosper' simultaneously. Our or- 
 gans are a society of true friends, who grieve or rejoice 
 together. The bones alone remain passive, while all else 
 is in commotion around them ; they are like unfortunate 
 children, with hearts of stone, who never trouble them- 
 selves about anything that happens to their companions. 
 
 You remember the day when you cut your finger so 
 severely, of which wound you still bear the scar. Your 
 whole dear little body suffered with your poor finger. 
 Your lungs and throat uttered so loud a cry that your 
 mother came running from the far end of the garden, 
 whilst your cheeks became very red, and scalding tears 
 rolled down over them. Your legs gave way, your arms 
 trembled, and if any one could have put his hand to your 
 heart he would have felt it beating far more violently 
 than usual ; and as you had just dined, your stomach, 
 which was quietly carrying on its duties, became disturb- 
 ed to such an extent that its work was interrupted, and 
 you had, if I remember rightly, a slight attack of in- 
 digestion. 
 
 What part did the bones take in this general agita- 
 tion? 
 
 (28) 
 
LIFE OP THE BONES. 29 
 
 None whatever ; they allowed themselves to be tossed 
 about right and left by the convulsed muscles,, but per- 
 sonally they did not suffer the smallest emotion. You 
 would know nothing of all this, being absorbed in your 
 little accident. Try and take notice the next time you 
 cut yourself, it may divert your attention ; and who knows 
 whether thinking of the calmness of these unheeding 
 bones will not help to moderate the excess of agitation 
 in the rest of your body. 
 
 It would seem, at first sight, that the bones are equally 
 insensible to their own misfortunes as to the misfortunes 
 which overtake the other parts of the body. In those 
 dreadful operations, when to save life a member has to 
 be sacrificed, whilst the whole body painfully shrinks 
 from the surgeon's knife, the bone may be sawn with 
 impunity, so to speak, for at this moment the pain 
 is almost null, but this privilege of insensibility is but ap- 
 parent. I think it was Jean-Jacques Rousseau who ap- 
 peared to such disadvantage in viva voce discussions,, and 
 only discovered an hour after how he ought to have re- 
 plied. This in no way detracted from his eloquence when 
 he answered with his mind in repose and his pen in his 
 hand. It is the same in the history of the bone ; it is 
 dumb whilst the saw is at work, but vexes itself when 
 all is over, inflames, and then becomes formidably elo- 
 quent ; you must, however, give it time to inflame, and 
 this is not the affair of an hour. The extreme slowness 
 of its actions is the characteristic of the life of the bone ; 
 there the dead crowd so closely to the living that the lat- 
 ter is benumbed, and sleeps as if in a tomb. This is 
 the reason why the bones look with indifference on the 
 general excitement when any sudden accident befalls 
 the body ; all is right again before the troubles of their 
 neighbors have had time to arouse them. But in chronic 
 
30 LIFE OF THE BONES. 
 
 cases, or illness of long duration, if you prefer the term, 
 the bones ^some times end by partaking of the general 
 disturbance, they suffer in their turn, -and become the 
 scene of frightful pain, against which all medical skill too 
 often proves powerless. 
 
 One circumstance infallibly rouses the dormant life of 
 the bones, and this is a case of fracture. 
 
 The day you cut yourself, if, instead of crying so much, 
 you had spent your time in looking to see how things 
 were going on, you would have observed that as the 
 bleeding ceased, a kind of yellow gluey liquid oozed 
 from the lips of the wound, and as it dried up soon 
 indurated them. By degrees the little vessels which had 
 been cut in two, hollowed out a way across i^iis thin 
 pellicle, and rejoined their walls. Like a good work- 
 man who sets to work to repair his work after an acci- 
 dent, the blood connected the divided fibres, carrying 
 away by degrees the coating which temporarily held 
 them, and now if you have the curiosity to examine 
 further by cutting your finger again in the old place, you 
 would satisfy yourself that no trace of all this repair 
 remains inside. 
 
 The bones repair their injuries in the same way. When 
 they break, the little vessels which run here and there 
 in their interior also break, and the blood flows as when 
 you cut your flesh, but, of course, not to the same degree. 
 Soon a yellow coating, like that which healed your 
 finger appears, but what would suffice for a little bit of 
 flesh would be too weak for a heavy massive personage 
 like a bone, therefore the whole history of ossification 
 must recommence in the broken part. The gelatine 
 comes first in order, then little by little a cartilage is 
 formed by the exclusive intervention of the serum ; next, 
 the globules work in their turn and construct a bony 
 
LIFE OF THE BONES. 31 
 
 wall, which exactly fills the breach, and at last permits 
 the bone to work as before. 
 
 How long a time did the cut in your finger take to 
 unite ? Some hours, a day at the most ; wounds of this 
 kind heal quickly at your age. With bones there is so 
 much more work to do that more time is required, and 
 their progress is very slow. For a man in good health it 
 takes from two to three months before the cure is com- 
 pleted, but there is no exact limit to the time necessary, 
 the vitality of tha bones being proportioned to the ani- 
 mal substance they contain ; in elderly people, where 
 the gelatine has in a great measure given place to the 
 earthy substance, much more time is required for the 
 healing process. We read of fractures coinciding with 
 certain maladies, which have required six or eight 
 months to consolidate. Vitiated or enfeebled blood is 
 like a workman out of health, who works without ener- 
 gy, and is always behind. 
 
 On the other hand, in children whose blood is so ac- 
 tive, and whose bones are half gelatinous, fractures 
 sometimes heal in a marvel ously short time. I know an 
 instance of a little boy, who for fun climbed a neigh- 
 bor's fence. Surprised in the act, he jumped without 
 looking, entangled his leg in a cross-bar, and broke it. 
 Before a month had elapsed he was out limping along 
 the road : this was certainly too soon ; under similar 
 circumstances your parents would have kept you in the 
 house much longer, for a bone imperfectly united and 
 used too soon will easily break again, or take a wrong 
 direction, and the second injury is more difficult to repair 
 than the first. 
 
 You perhaps have seen a broken limb ; if so, 'you will 
 understand why they bandage it between splints of wood 
 so as to prevent all movement. The slightest motion 
 
32 LIFE OF THE BONES. 
 
 displacing the two pieces of bone laid together would 
 derange the whole operation, which would require to be 
 recommenced, and if too often repeated the bone would 
 not unite at all. The blood becomes discouraged if its 
 work is too often undone ; it is no longer found equally 
 capable of action, and at length leaves its work half 
 finished ; in this case it unites the two broken ends in a 
 clumsy manner, joining them by means of a species of 
 fibre, as a driver repairs his shaft, which has been broken 
 on the road, with cords, and the limb has to move along 
 as best it can. 
 
 Dp not forget all this if you meet with an accident 
 Take care not to stir your foot, if it is your leg that is 
 broken, nor your hand if it is your arm, they .might 
 either of them in the movement displace or draw aside 
 the portion of the bone next to them ; and do you know 
 what would happen if the two broken extremities were 
 to separate from each other ? The uniting ligature 
 would be pushed to one side, and the globules arriving, 
 would ossify it, and at last one leg would be found 
 shorter than the other. It is very tiresome for a little 
 girl to remain for several weeks upon the sofa, but it 
 would be still more trying for a young lady, when asked 
 to dance, always to rise with a limp, and be obliged to 
 admit that it is her own fault that she does so. 
 
 The repair accomplished by the blood when its previ- 
 ous work has been damaged or destroyed will appear 
 quite simple, if you recollect what I told you of its two- 
 fold duties as constructor and demolisher. It incessantly 
 destroys our bones, and as incessantly renews them, so 
 we ought not to be at all puzzled when any addition is 
 required this is a game it is quite accustomed to. 
 What would you say if I were to tell you the way in 
 which these demolitions and these reconstructions are 
 
LIFE OF THE BONES. 33 
 
 continually carried on ? You would open your large 
 eyes, and think I was making fun of you. It does not 
 appear very easy to ascertain what takes place in the 
 depths of your bones, where the eye, if it could penetrate, 
 would see nothing. Nevertheless, we know what goes 
 on most positively. Listen, then, for it is a history which 
 is worth the trouble of hearing. 
 
 You must first call to your recollection what I told 
 you last time about the gelatine and globules ; about 
 the different appetites of our organs, one of which takes 
 this, and the other that out of the blood. It is owing to 
 this mysterious instinct that each one is fitted for per- 
 forming its allotted task, and if we consider this prop- 
 erly we shall find it could not be otherwise, our body 
 would be only a uniform block without this intelligent 
 distribution of the. materials of which it is composed. 
 But there is something besides this. Independently of 
 those wants which it is requisite to satisfy, the organs 
 have their fancies as pretty little girls have. Among 
 the multitude of substances which may find their way 
 into the body under one pretext or another, there are 
 some which are seized upc\n by one organ only, even 
 though they should not be necessary to it ; even though 
 they may be injurious to it In this again they resemble 
 little girls. To bring forward a very inoffensive exam- 
 ple. The madder with which the cloth for soldiers' uni- 
 forms is dyed red, owes this honor to what dyers call a 
 coloring principle, which is spread throughout all parts 
 of the plant, so if an animal eats madder, this coloring 
 principle which enters into the body, and which the other 
 organs do not like the bones have the coquetry to ab- 
 sorb on its passage to give them a fine red color. Where, 
 I ask, will coquetry end ? "We are indebted to it for this 
 secret. 
 
 2* 
 
34 LIFE OF THE BONES. 
 
 An experiment was made by feeding some pigeons on 
 madder, and afterwards killing them to see the effect 
 produced. In those fed for some time on this diet, the 
 bones were quite red ; in those birds which had been fed 
 thus for several days, the surface only of the bones was 
 red ; when madder and the usual food had been em- 
 ployed alternately every fortnight, alternate layers of red 
 and white were found upon sawing the bone, correspond- 
 ing to the different periods ; lastly, in birds fed upon 
 madder for a certain time and then restored to their 
 customary food, the bones were quite white, the redness 
 having departed, though traces of it were discernible 
 upon a cloje examination of the heart of the bones, for 
 the old layers disappear from the centre in proportion 
 as new ones deposit themselves on the surface. 
 
 Our bony framework, then, follows very nearly the 
 same laws in its formation as does the ligneous portion 
 of vegetables, the solid part of which also increases by 
 the deposit of superficial layers advancing regularly 
 towards the interior or from without inwards, in conse- 
 sequence of the accumulation of the successive layers 
 which are continually being formed. There is this dif- 
 ference, however ; in the bone which belongs to a supe- 
 rior order of existence we remark two kinds of move- 
 ment, one implying ingress the other egress, while the 
 life of wood, more simple in its nature, is satisfied with 
 the accumulation of new layers on its surface without 
 interfering with the old ones, which death only destroys. 
 On the other hand, I can show you another very curious 
 point of resemblance between bone and wood. 
 
 I have already told you that wood is produced year 
 by year by the bark of the tree. The bone also has its 
 bark which produces it, but without intermission, as in 
 this hot-house of ours, always heated to 98 Fahrenheit, 
 
LIFE OF THE BONES. 35 
 
 winter is quite unknown. It is a membrane surrounding 
 the bone called the periosteum, a Greek word, but easy 
 to remember, meaning " around the bone." 
 
 All the small arteries of the surrounding parts send 
 their last ramifications into the periosteum, which last 
 becomes swollen by the blood, as the bark is swollen 
 with sap, and both work exactly on the same plan. 
 
 If I had entered more particularly into the history of 
 'the formation of wood, I should have told you that a 
 sOrt of preparatory wood is formed between the bark 
 and the ligneous portion called sapwood, which, after 
 remaining white and soft for a certain time, becomes 
 hard wood, as it is called. 
 
 What is directly formed from the periosteum is really 
 like sapwood in its nature. 
 
 What is a cartilage ? You know now, it is a bone in 
 process of formation. Now in the first half of human 
 life, a thin layer of cartilage is formed under the perios- 
 teum, the interior of which gradually ossifies, and which 
 is always being reproduced at the exterior surface until 
 the growth of the bone is completed. Later on, the 
 periosteum itself ossifies in its turn, so much so, that in 
 the end it is almost impossible to separate it from the 
 bone with which it seems to identify itself, its work of 
 construction languishes, and by degrees ceases, and owing 
 to the interior destruction always continuing, the bones 
 of old people gradually become thinner, and this is 
 another cause of their fragility. 
 
 You see now, that I had some reason for naming this 
 chapter " The Life of the Bones," though probably at 
 first it astonished you. Remember I have not told you 
 all that is known, and we are far from knowing all that 
 may be learned on the subject. In looking at one of the 
 little bone figures you see in shops, would you believe 
 
86 LIFE OF THE BONES. 
 
 the story of its having lived, of its having issued drop 
 by drop, that is the term, from a membrane which is 
 sometimes thinner than a sheet of paper, and that had 
 the animal lived long enough, the bone which it repre- 
 sents would have disappeared little by little in the blood ! 
 How many things which closely concern us we are igno- 
 rant of, and if we have already found so many curious 
 particulars to learn respecting the lowest of our organs, 
 those in fact which but half live, what will it be when 
 we come to examine those which are in some degree the 
 seat of life ? 
 
CHAPTER IY. 
 
 THE MARROW. 
 
 LET me now introduce you to an intimate friend of 
 the bones, I mean the marrow, which, if not forming a 
 part of, dwells within the house, which you know very 
 well by name. 
 
 The marrow is a species of oily fat, finer and more 
 easily melted than that of the rest of the. body, and is 
 found in the interior of all the bones. I must here say a 
 word as to their construction. 
 
 Examined through a microscope, the bones seem 
 composed of a multitude of fibres everywhere the same, 
 which are sometimes pressed one against another, form- 
 ing what is termed compact tissue, a name which explains 
 itself, and sometimes crossing one another in every direc- 
 tion, forming a lighter kind of tissue, called cellular tissue. 
 There is a system in prison called the cellular system, 
 because the poor culprits are shut up in separate cells, in 
 the hope, it is said, of softening their natures, provided 
 they do not die, or become insane. In like manner, the 
 cellular tissue owes its name' to the empty spaces between 
 the crossings of the fibres, which form so many little cells, 
 through which the canals containing the blood circulate. 
 These two kinds of tissues are found in all bones, 
 the compact at the exterior, the cellular in the interior, 
 but in different proportions. In the bones of the skull, 
 for instance, which belong to the class of flat bones, the 
 two exterior plates of compact tissue are in such close 
 
 (37) 
 
38 THE MARROW. 
 
 contiguity, especially in old age, that it is sometimes 
 difficult to find traces of the cellular tissue. The latter, 
 on the contrary, predominates in the short bones, such 
 as the wrist and instep, where the compact layer is very 
 thin, and only looks like the covering to a mass of cells 
 of which the bone is composed. Lastly, in the long bones 
 of the arm and leg, .the separation of the fibres at the 
 two extremities there determines the cellular swellings 
 organised like the short bones, whilst the middle forms 
 a species of tube, the sides of which are composed solely 
 of a compact tissue, thicker even than that in the flat bones. 
 
 Excuse, my dear child, this dissertation upon flat bones, 
 long bones, compact tissue, and .cellular tissue. There 
 are so many things to search into in this little country 
 we are exploring, that to derive benefit we must tread 
 in the steps of those who have seriously studied them, and 
 all who desire to gain knowledge must accustom them- 
 selves to search diligently into what is not always 
 amusing. 
 
 To come back to our subject, the marrow, it is to be 
 found everywhere, whether in long, short, or flat bones ; 
 in all tissue, whether compact or cellular ; it is the in- 
 separable companion of the bony substance in its 
 minutest structure. It is even found in the teeth. If you 
 wish to be convinced of this, examine one of those old 
 pieces of ivory you find in curiosity shops. Do you know 
 why they are so yellow? Simply because the oil, that 
 is to say, the marrow, which is contained within them has 
 become rancid from exposure to the air, and turned yel- 
 low, though it was colorless before. Pass your fingers 
 over a piece of polished ivory ; it is the marrow it con- 
 tains which renders it so soft and unctuous to the touch. 
 I once told you, that teeth prepared by the dentist from 
 the tusk of the hippopotamus soon turned yellow in the 
 
THE MARROW. 39 
 
 mouth, now you will understand why. The hippopotamus, 
 like all aquatic animals, is rich in oil. You take no 
 thought as to what may happen to those little white 
 pearls which look so pretty when you laugh ; well, sup- 
 posing one of them was to fall out now, and you kept it, 
 it would grow old as you do, and by the time you become 
 a grandmother, would be quite yellow. 
 
 If the marrow succeeds in establishing itself in the 
 tissue of the teeth, which is by far the most compact 
 of all the tissues, how much more easily will it find its 
 way into the others, which for this reason also become 
 yellow much more rapidly than the teeth do. Take a 
 bone of a sheep with a pair of tongs, and hold it over a 
 fire, presenting the middle, which is so hard, to the 
 flame, the heat will liquefy the marrow, and it will ooze 
 through the imperceptible holes with which the surface 
 is riddled, and falling in drops on the fire will burn with 
 a bluish flame ; if you let the marrow drop into the fire 
 from the thick end of the bone, which is all cellular, it 
 will make a stronger and brighter flame, and will con- 
 tinue burning like a torch after you withdraw the bone 
 from the fire, until all the marrow is consumed. 
 
 The real habitation of the marrow is in the long bones, 
 the hollows of which are filled by long rolls of it ; else- 
 where it is scarcely discernible, lost, as it is, in the 
 depths of the bony tissue, whereas in the long bones it 
 dwells apart, and may easily be seen. 
 
 The long bones have a small opening near the centre ; 
 look for the hole the next time you have the leg of a 
 chicken on your plate ; it is called the nutrient orifice, 
 because it forms a passage through which a large artery 
 feeds the captive immured within this stony cylinder. 
 
 Scarcely does the artery enter the prison of the mar- 
 row, when it suddenly divides, forming two branches, 
 
40 THE MARROW. 
 
 each accompanied by its vein, the one running upward, 
 the other downward. Arteries and veins forming innu- 
 merable ramifications envelop the marrow in so tight a 
 network that it acquires a red tinge in consequence, 
 more especially in young animals, in which nutrition, 
 and consequently the circulation of the blood, is more 
 active. Thus, well warmed, well fed, and sheltered from 
 all accident, the marrow lives within its walls, like a 
 mouse in a cheese, regardless of what takes place in the 
 body, and doing nothing, at least so far as we can see, 
 though doubtless it has some kind of work to do, and we 
 could not with impunity suppress this lazy marrow, whicli 
 seems to have no employment.* 
 
 A great fright seems, however, to affect it. Have you 
 never heard the expression, " It froze the very marrow 
 in my bones ? " Terror stops the circulation of the blood, 
 and accounts for this feeling. The work of the nutri- 
 ment-admitting orifice, or the opening by which the 
 
 * An ingenious savant conceived an experiment they call it an 
 experiment ! the details of which I will not give you, for I do not 
 wish to set your hair on end, in which the marrow is suddenly 
 destroyed in the interior of a bone, of a dog or a cat it is true ; the 
 love of science has not yet led to the trial of such experiments on 
 men, and this is fortunate. At the moment of the experiment the 
 bone dies, but a very singular phenomenon takes place afterward. 
 The periosteum becomes inflamed, swells, separates itself, as it were, 
 from the dead substance beneath it, with which it has no longer 
 anything to do, and begins boldly to fabricate a new bone, in which 
 the dead one is enclosed. 
 
 This is a beautiful illustration of the power of the periosteum in 
 the production of bone, and it enables us to understand those surgi- 
 cal operations recently conceived, in which the destruction of a part 
 of a bone is remedied, by carefully replacing the strip of periosteum 
 which covered the piece of bone which is removed. This strip of 
 periosteum fills up the vacant space which exists beneath it, and a 
 perfect bone is ultimately the result. 
 
THE MARROW. 41 
 
 nutriment is furnished, is interrupted, and a trembling 
 of the marrow is natural. 
 
 This reminds me of a popular saying, applicable to 
 people who are wanting in energy, i( He has no marrow 
 in his bones." By what instinct do those not versed in 
 anatomy arrive at this conclusion? they are in some 
 measure right. In delicate and rickety persons the mar- 
 row loses its fat, its virtue, and is replaced by a gelati- 
 nous liquid, sometimes forming three-fourths of the whole 
 original quantity of marrow. Little children, whose 
 energy is not very great, have not much marrow either, 
 and what they have is but half formed, the gelatine and 
 the fat being about equal. 
 
 I trust, however, you will not lay too great stress upon 
 the popular respect for the marrow ; like all respect 
 which is not enlightened, it borders upon superstition. 
 For old people who are feeble have more marrow than 
 younger ones ; the mass increases in proportion as the 
 space which it has to fill widens, in consequence of the 
 thinning of the bone in the interior. 
 
 The Greeks held the marrow in great respect. It is 
 said that the centaur Chiron, the preceptor of Achilles, 
 fed his pupil upon the marrow of -the lion to make him 
 brave. This is a receipt I should not feel inclined to 
 recommend, even supposing we could acquire the proper- 
 ties of the food we eat, which would often be very dis- 
 quieting. Even in lions the marrow has nothing heroic. 
 
 But we have said sufficient about this fat inhabitant of 
 the bones ; let us pass on to a subject which is also of 
 great importance the manner in which the bones are 
 attached to each other. 
 
CHAPTER Y. 
 
 THE JOINTS. 
 
 HAD your arm and forearm been of one piece, and had 
 the two parts of your leg formed but one, you would not 
 have found them very convenient ; had they been firmly 
 fixed to the body as the branches of a tree are fixed to 
 the trunk, it would have been still worse ; your powers 
 of mobility would scarcely have exceeded those of a 
 statue, and your head would have been of little use if 
 unable to move on your shoulders. 
 
 It has been wisely arranged otherwise. Our bony 
 framework is composed of movable pieces, harmonising 
 one with the other in such perfection, that no machine 
 invented by man can be compared to it. 
 
 At the present day we have machines everywhere, and 
 I am sure you must have seen one at work, though it 
 may Have been only .a sewing machine. What a noise ! 
 what shaking ! what constant friction goes on among the 
 different pieces of the machine as^ it performs its duty ; 
 and what a trifle will put the whole into disorder, at the 
 very moment when it appears to be working rapidly and 
 perfectly. 
 
 Now place yourself by the side of this noisy assistant, 
 this sewing machine which your mother has bought, in 
 order to accomplish the extra sewing you cause her ; 
 and while it is in movement, do you, without saying any- 
 thing, just move your arms and legs. There are, in these 
 also, different pieces which rub one against the other ; 
 
 (42) 
 
THE JOINTS. 43 
 
 but do you hear the least noise, do you observe the slight- 
 est friction ? These pieces have neither screws nor nails 
 to keep each one in its proper place, and those which do 
 the most work scarcely meet, as we may say, at the ex- 
 tremities. You must own that these members require 
 to be fastened firmly together, to overcome all the obsta- 
 cles they encounter. 
 
 The points where the fastenings are found are called 
 joints or articulations. 
 
 There are two kinds of joints, movable and immovable, 
 and, without going any further for an example, I can ex- 
 plain them to you by means of knives. Knives are also 
 jointed ; they are composed of two parts, the handle 
 and the blade. In pocket-knives, which open and shut, 
 the position of the blade is changed at will by turning it 
 upon a pivot at one end of the handle, this is a movable 
 joint. In table knives, which always remain open, the 
 blade is fixed in the handle, this is an immovable joint. 
 
 The skull bones belong to this latter class. 
 
 The different pieces of the skull, as they lean against- 
 each other, form a kind of circular arch, behind which 
 the most delicate of our organs is sheltered, that one re- 
 quiring the greatest protection, viz., the brain. Think 
 what would become of an arch if the stones composing 
 it were movable, and you will see that movement in the 
 bones of the head is out of the question. One thing is 
 absolutely necessary, the solidity of the whole ; and when 
 we consider the thinness and the small extent of surface 
 where they meet, we should be tempted at first sight to 
 ask with some uneasiness, how bones so delicately formed 
 could manage to avoid overlapping each other upon the 
 smallest pressure ; when we examine the joints we are 
 soon reassured. They are scalloped by a number of 
 minute zig-zag indentures, which fit into those on the 
 
44 THE JOINTS. 
 
 corresponding edge, like the serrated teeth of a cog- 
 wheel, and dovetail so one with the other, that unless 
 told beforehand, you would never imagine the skull was 
 formed of more than one bone. Now, in virtue of the 
 constant progress of ossification, these ^everal bones end 
 really in becoming but one, for all these zig-zag inden- 
 tures finish by becoming solidly attached as age ad- 
 vances ; and the absolute immobility of the articulations, 
 even when the bones only touch, does not permit of our 
 perceiving the change when they really become united. 
 
 The movable joints, such as those in your arms and 
 legs, are quite differently constructed. 
 
 Place two bits of wood end to end, and glue a piece 
 of linen loosely round the extremities, and you will have 
 some idea of the way your bones are fastened together. 
 
 Only the linen is as cobweb in solidity, compared with 
 the materials nature uses. I cannot show you those at 
 your elbow, your shoulder, your knee, etc. I sincerely 
 hope you may never' see them ; still there are some ex- 
 actly like them which you must have already seen. 
 
 In cutting up a fowl, the famous joint, the speedy dis- 
 covery of which is the triumph of the skilful carver, is 
 simply the articulation of the wing or of the leg, and the 
 kind of skin of pearly white which adheres to the ex- 
 tremity of the bone, and which so vigorously resists any 
 effort made to cut or tear it, is the material or membrane 
 in question. You can easily test its strength the first 
 opportunity you have, and I wish f ou luck with it, above 
 all, should the fowl be an old one. 
 
 Science calls this covering of the joint the fibrous cap- 
 sule ; it is a small closed sack, inside which the extremi- 
 ties of the two bones have full play, without being able 
 to pass certain limits ; they are not retained within their 
 allotted space exclusively by the resistance of the fibrous 
 
THE JOINTS. 45 
 
 capsule, and on this point I shall have more than one 
 peculiarity to notice when we shall be speaking of the 
 bones separately ; nevertheless, this power to retain the 
 bones in their places is the special function of the fibrous 
 capsule, and you may here admire the wonderful intelli- 
 gence adapting each member to the performance of its 
 destined duty. The fibrous capsule may be cut, may be 
 attacked by substances, which, if applied to other parts 
 of the body, would give rise to great pain, without evin- 
 cing the slightest inconvenience. It sends no complaint 
 to the brain, where resides the authority charged with 
 the care of all parts of the frame ; in other words, the 
 fibrous capsule knows no suffering ; but only pull the 
 limb, twist it, and bring about, no matter how, a separa- 
 tion between the ends of the bones, and immediately the 
 brain is advertised by this same capsule, which instantly 
 becomes the seat of intense pain. Like a stolid sentinel, 
 it only knows its own password ; all beyond this is 
 nothing to it. 
 
 Let me remark, however, that this pain inflicted upon 
 the fibrous capsules, which retain the extremities of bones 
 in their places when the limbs are pulled or twisted, is 
 not the same at all ages. 
 
 These membranes are much more supple in children, 
 and sometimes, when violently strained, stretch to an ex- 
 tent which would be impossible at a later period of life, 
 unless by violence oft-repeated we force them to take a 
 particular bend, which they ever afterwards retain, in 
 defiance of the laws imposed on them by nature. It is 
 owing to the suppleness of the fibrous capsule in youth 
 that mountebanks are able to exhibit themselves in pos- 
 tures which would completely turn the heads of those 
 who might attempt to imitate them. There is but one 
 age for an apprenticeship to this calling, and that is early 
 
46 THE JOINTS. 
 
 youth ; and posterity will bleed for us when they shall 
 read, in history, that we have tolerated such cruel prac- 
 tices to be inflicted on helpless children, practices which 
 public opinion ought to have suppressed long ago. 
 
 These fibres, which, unfortunately for the poor children, 
 are so flexible at first, are not long in stiffening, and 
 would positively refuse, if not acted on at the right time, to 
 yield to these exaggerated displacements which may be 
 obtained of them in early youth. As we get older the 
 joints acquire strength, they gain in solidity what they 
 lose in flexibility ; they have less play, but they work 
 better. 
 
 In old age the texture of the capsular membrane be- 
 comes extremely rigid, and often incrusted with phos- 
 phate of lime, which causes old people to move about 
 slowly, and often with difficulty, feeling it painful to stoop 
 to pick up anything from the ground. Happily there 
 are generally children at hand with supple fibres, who are 
 glad to stoop for them. 
 
 Up to the present moment we have only noticed the 
 exterior of the joints ; we must now look into the little 
 sack, and as I cannot do this in your leg, once more turn 
 to the leg of the chicken. 
 
 Examine the point where it is detached from the bird 
 very carefully, and you will find the extremity covered 
 with a white surface, elastic, beautifully polished, round- 
 ed in the form of a ball ; you will further see that this 
 ball fits into a cavity in the corresponding bone ; now 
 separate the joint uniting the foot to the leg, you will see 
 on the two articular surfaces, ridges and grooves as if 
 made by a lathe, which are adapted to each other with 
 unequalled precision. You have but to pass your finger 
 over this admirable piece of work, to understand at once 
 how the different pieces of the animal machine glide, or 
 
THE JOINTS. 4:7 
 
 work, so easily and with so little noise, the one on the 
 other. 
 
 These bones are terminated by cartilages, but they 
 must not be mistaken for the cartilage found in children, 
 of which we have already spoken. The cartilages of the 
 joints are common to all ages, and form an essential part 
 of the articular system. Their principal office is to 
 deaden by their elasticity any shock, and thus they pre- 
 vent many fractures, as is the case -in machinery where 
 indian-rubber bands, buffers as they are called, are placed 
 over the metallic parts at the points of contact. Add to 
 this, that the bone itself could never take on this incom- 
 parable polish which is due to the extreme fineness of 
 the cartilaginous tissue, the meshes of which are so very 
 close as to be almost imperceptible. If by chance the 
 articular cartilage were destroyed, the two bony surfaces 
 would, it is true, acquire a certain polish from constant 
 friction against each other. Instances of this kind are 
 recorded, but I doubt if the members would willingly 
 accommodate themselves to this substitute, and the facili- 
 ty of the movement must assuredly be affected by it. 
 
 There is yet another contrivance which probably you 
 do not suspect. 
 
 We grease our machines to facilitate their working. 
 From our watch-wheels to our door-hinges, each joint 
 receives its proper quantity of oil, destined to make it 
 play freely. Nature has not neglected a proceeding 
 which we find so essential. 
 
 Under the fibrous capsule, another membrane is found, 
 arranged in form like a purse, within which the 
 joint is enclosed, and which incessantly distils a 
 slimy liquid called synovia, a funny word to write, but 
 quite as easy as many a child's name to pronounce. 
 
 Have you noticed, when travelling by rail, what took 
 
48 THE JOINIS. 
 
 place when you stopped at the principal stations ? Did 
 you observe men, with pots of grease in their hand, run- 
 ning from one wheel to another, opening successively the 
 boxes which enclose the extremities of the axles ? These 
 are called journal-boxes, and they must be looked into 
 from time to time to see whether the provision of grease 
 requires renewing. The purse which distils the synovia 
 is also a journal-box, but a far more perfect one than 
 those attached to the railway-cars, inasmuch as it is self- 
 replenishing and does not require any thought from us. 
 Stop a moment though ! I am mistaken ; it is our duty 
 to assist the action of this membrane, but I may truly 
 say the assistance required is not onerous } it consists in 
 moving your limbs from time to time. However small 
 the aid you render, you will see that to deny it altoge- 
 ther would entail suffering. 
 
 Have you ever been a long time without eating, speak- 
 ing, or laughing, without moving your jaws in any way ? 
 If this has never happened to you, no doubt but it will 
 some day. In such a case your mouth becomes perfectly 
 dry after a time, as if there were no saliva left, and in 
 fact the supply is wanting ; for the salivary glands require 
 encouraging to do their duty by being constantly exer- 
 cised, they sleep if left to themselves, and the mouth, 
 which the saliva should keep constantly moistened, be- 
 comes dry. 
 
 The same thing takes place in the synovial membrane ; 
 the discomfort you experience when you first begin to move 
 your limbs after they have been sometime in the same 
 position, all proceeds from a similar cause, the journal-box 
 is dried up, or rather the grease has become thickened for 
 want of being renewed it clogs, so to speak, the articula- 
 tion. When the synovia dries up, it is a terrible affair ; 
 the consequence of this is more serious than you can im- 
 
THE JOINTS. 49 
 
 agine. The two cartilages, the contact of which nothing 
 has any further power to soften, slowly inflame, swell, and 
 adhere together ; instead of being movable, the joint is 
 no longer of any use. Do not be alarmed and think it 
 dangerous to sit quietly during your lessons. A day, or 
 even a month could not produce such a sad state ; such 
 transitions require time ; the bone works slowly, as I 
 said before. To produce this change, a long illness or a 
 stubborn fracture, keeping you close prisoner to your bed 
 for an indefinite period, is required ; you rise with an 
 ankylose, or stiff joint, for this is the literal meaning of 
 this terrible word, it comes from the Greek ankyle, which 
 signifies joint. 
 
 In all this, dear child, I see an interesting lesson, valu- 
 able as it is interesting, if you will only profit by it. 
 Your membranes and glands are not the only parts of 
 your body which sleep if they are not exercised. The 
 same law holds good with your whole being, and our 
 most valuable faculties also sleep if we do not take paips 
 to keep them well employed. Doctors, in cases of pro- 
 longed immobility, with a view to prevent this serious 
 result, where it can be done, make their patients perform 
 all sorts of apparently useless movements. 
 
 I wish that, in accordance with this example, young 
 people would only feel uneasy whenever the opportunity 
 for doing good does not present itself frequently enough, 
 and that they would rather seek such opportunities than 
 allow their kind-heartedness and intelligence to rust. 
 Ankylose of the heart or the mind is far worse than that 
 of the arm or the leg. One word more on the synovial 
 membrane, and we will take our leave of the joints. 
 
 It is not very strong ; it is one of the serous tribe of 
 membranes, so called because they distil a liquid which 
 they draw from the serum of the blood, they look some- 
 3 
 
50 THE JOINTS. 
 
 what like a piece of wet bladder ; well, slight looking 
 as this membrane is, it proves when necessary as good a 
 keeper of order in the joint as the robust capsule with 
 its indomitable fibres. 
 
 This serous membrane and the soft synovia are so 
 closely applied to the articular surfaces that they let 
 nothing enter, and the articular surfaces cannot quit 
 each other without creating a vacuum, and you know 
 what a strong antagonist you have to deal with if you 
 wish to produce a void anywhere. I gave you an in- 
 sight into atmospheric pressure when I spoke to you 
 about the lungs. The full pressure of the air is behind 
 this feeble membrane, and opposes any displacement of 
 the bones, which are thus rigorously kept in position 
 even after the fibrous capsule has been removed. In 
 such a case the most violent effort will not always sepa- 
 rate the joint. Make the slightest cut into the synovial 
 purse, and allow the air to penetrate the joint which it 
 protects, and the powerful auxiliary is neutralised, and 
 the object is accomplished with the greatest ease. 
 
 You, my dear child, are not very strong, and probably 
 never may be. Let this teach you what energetic resist- 
 ance the feeble may oppose to brute force when the 
 former have on their side reason, justice, right, all those 
 great forces of the moral atmosphere, the irresistible 
 pressure of which is everywhere obeyed, always pro- 
 vided their natural and legitimate action be not broken 
 in upon. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 
 
 HITHERTO we have only occupied ourselves with what 
 is common to all bones ; or general anatomy, as it is 
 called. Now we pass on to a description of the bones 
 taken separately descriptive anatomy, as it is called 
 and you cannot imagine how many pages might be filled 
 if I should attempt to lay before you all that could be 
 said of them. The body of a man is certainly not very 
 large, and yet those who would seriously study it must 
 spend years at it to know even a little about it. So 
 many, so various are the details in this admirable ma- 
 chine, of which each atom is worthy of attention, that a 
 lifetime would not suffice to discover all that is to be 
 learned. Still, as we have no desire to become physi- 
 cians, we will proceed more rapidly. It is a little satis- 
 faction to get a general idea of a subject of which we 
 knew nothing before. 
 
 Let us begin with the vertebral column ; it is the 
 foundation of the structure, and to it all the other parts 
 are attached ; and you will understand when we come 
 to the history of animals, why I give it the post of honor. 
 You already know, moreover, that this column has given 
 its name to the whole class of vertebrate animals, begin- 
 ning with fish, and ending with man. The most impor- 
 tant and marked distinction which can be established in 
 the animal kingdom is that of vertebrate or invertebrate 
 animals : that is to say, they all belong to the one or the 
 other, according as they have or have not a vertebral 
 
 (51) 
 
52 THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 
 
 column. In classifying animals I should seek another 
 distinction, for, in being more minute, one runs a risk of 
 getting confused and bewildered. 
 
 The vertebral column is situated on the median line 
 of the body. 
 
 This expression seems to astonish you, but do not be 
 alarmed, I shall take care before going further to ex- 
 plain this important median line to you. 
 
 Place your finger exactly in the centre of your fore- 
 head, run it straight along the bridge of your nose to 
 the bottom of your chin, whilst you look at yourself in 
 the glass. You will at once see that each side of your 
 face, right and left of the line, is exactly like the other. 
 To the right there is an eye, with eyebrow and eyelid, 
 to the left there is the same ; on each side there is a 
 cheek, beyond that an ear ; your line separates the nose 
 into two equal parts, and a glance will satisfy you that 
 each is a counterpart of the other ; it is the same with 
 the mouth. Now take notice of the little hollow just 
 below the nose, in the centre of the upper lip ; you will 
 find the same number of teeth on either side, incisors, 
 canine, and molars, all placed in the same order as if the 
 two parts of the jaw were two distinct jaws, united so as 
 to form but one. 
 
 This is no simple supposition. Nothing is easier than 
 to perceive traces of this junction, especially in the lower 
 jaw, where it is indicated by a kind of ridge. We 
 sometimes see children with what is called a hare lip, 
 that is to say, with a cleft in the centre of the upper lip, 
 which, in certain cases, extends far into the palate ; if it 
 could possibly extend farther without causing death, 
 and a curious eye could pursue its track, it would, in 
 passing between the two uniform parts, reach the top of 
 the skull, which at the centre bears the mark of a large 
 
THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 53 
 
 weld, dividing the skull itself into two parts, of which 
 one is but a repetition of the other. 
 
 Let us continue this imaginary division throughout 
 the trunk down the middle of the neck, each half will 
 have an arm and a leg like its twin, the same number of 
 ribs, the same quantity of muscles and nerves all placed 
 respectively at the same points. The conclusion to be 
 inferred is, that a line of separation traverses the whole 
 body, forming, if I may so say, a limit between two dis- 
 tinct individuals reunited by this median line.* . 
 
 Thus the vertebral column is situated on the median 
 line of the body, and I need not again tell you that, like 
 the nose, jaw, and skull, like everything which is on this 
 line, it presents on either side, throughout its entire 
 length, two surfaces precisely alike ; its construction is 
 not the less complicated in consequence, and requires to 
 be explained in due order. 
 
 The great bone found in the centre of a fish is simply 
 its vertebral column, and it may give you some idea, 
 faint though it be, of your own. You know how easily 
 it can be broken into little rings, as it were, pierced 
 
 * It is only the organs of nutrition which escape the law of equal 
 and symmetrical division, the heart being on one side, the liver on 
 the other; the intestinal tube is rolled up on itself, and yet this 
 irregularity of division is more apparent than real. It arises chiefly 
 from the fact, that the intestines are rolled up like a package in the 
 cavities which they fill, and if we stretch out the intestinal tube 
 and divide it lengthwise, its name alone (tube) tells us that we shall 
 find in it two halves resembling each other perfectly. The heart, 
 the lungs, and the liver are double also, with certain inequalities, 
 it is true, as regards the dimensions of their parts. The arteries 
 and veins are pretty equally divided between the two halves of the 
 body, so .that, with only a few exceptions, the organs of nutrition 
 seem to have been constructed on the same plan as the organs of 
 relation, and to be formed, like these latter, of two organs resem- 
 bling each other, united at the middle. 
 
54: THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 
 
 with two large holes, one above, the other below. On 
 dividing these bones you will perceive at the entrance 
 of the hole, a kind of fatty pulp passing from one bone 
 to the other, and serving to unite them.^ Each piece is 
 surmounted by a triangular ring hollowed out at the 
 base of a long straight sharp bone ; these rings, which 
 follow in succession one above the other, form a canal 
 through which a whitish thread runs ; trace it to the 
 head where it ends, and you will there observe a gang- 
 lion of light lines, which is neither more nor less than 
 the brain of the fish. Do not be angry, for a fish has a 
 brain as well as you. 
 
 This is quite a course of anatomy, is it not ? but not a 
 very terrible one. You can go over it again, when you 
 are disposed, the first time you meet with a carp. 
 
 Why have I taken the trouble to say so much about 
 a miserable fish-bone, which you throw away without 
 looking at ? Simply because all these details are to be 
 found in yourself, increased and perfected undoubtedly, 
 as is to be expected in beings so superior to a fish ; yet 
 the similarity is such you cannot fail to recognise it. 
 
 The piece with the two holes is here called the body 
 of the vertebras, and, between ourselves, it bears the 
 same name in fish ; for we call indifferently vertebras, in 
 all the vertebrated animals, those numerous pieces, the 
 uniting of which in them forms the great median column. 
 Scientific men use the same terms to express the same 
 
 * On looking at the great bone of the fish as it lies on your plate, 
 you would imagine that the ring in question is placed on the side ; 
 but it must be borne in mind that fish do not appear in their natu- 
 ral position on our tables. They are there lying flat, but observe 
 them swimming, and their position is just the reverse ; they cleave 
 the water edgewise. In this position, which is their natural one, 
 the spine of the great bone is directed upwards, and the ring very 
 clearly surmounts the round piece. 
 
THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 55 
 
 things, irrespective of their belonging to man or fish ; 
 and it is owing to this general classification that the tiny 
 kind of beads which you separate from the fish-bone, and 
 which appear insignificant, has the honor of being called 
 the body of the vertebras, as much as if it belonged to 
 the lord of creation. 
 
 It is true your vertebral column is not hollowed to 
 receive a fatty pulp, which we find serves to unite the 
 rings of the fish-bone. It is composed of a kind of small 
 oval bone, almost entirely cellular, especially on the two 
 surfaces above and below, which are flat, and pierced 
 by an immense number of small holes, visible to the 
 naked eye, as the microscopist would say. To these are 
 attached fibres of a peculiar substance not to be found 
 anywhere else in the body, the name of which will suffi- 
 ciently indicate to you their mixed character. . This 
 substance is called fibro-cartilage, a name which should 
 not alarm you, after all that has been said about carti- 
 lages, etc. 
 
 This fibro-cartilage performs in man the same office 
 which the pulp fulfils in the fish-bone. It keeps the 
 whole vertebral column in its place, but in a far more 
 energetic way than its representative in the fish. The 
 fibrous membrane, of which it is composed, adheres so 
 strongly to the bodies of the vertebras which it unites, 
 that it requires enormous strength to separate them. 
 Nothing is more firmly fixed in your whole frame. They 
 are, however, interspersed with pulp similar to that in 
 the fish, which is whiter and more abundant in children 
 than in adults. Therefore at this moment you more 
 nearly resemble fish than I do ; not that I feel proud of 
 the difference, inasmuch as the fibro-cartilage owes all its 
 suppleness to this inferior order of pulp, whilst we men, 
 in whom it will be found yellow, thick, and hardened, 
 
56 THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 
 
 should greatly prefer resembling the pike and carp a 
 little more, and thus have the power of bending our 
 backs as easily as you. 
 
 It is solely owing to the elasticity of the nbro-cartilage 
 that the vertebral column can bend forward, for the 
 bodies of the vertebra are in such subjection that none 
 of them can swerve from their place. You will pres- 
 ently see why it is an impossibility to bend the vertebral 
 column backward, at least to any great extent. 
 
 These elastic cushions, placed one above another 
 throughout the column, make some difference, as you 
 can readily imagine, in its length, and consequently in 
 the height of the human frame. Thus your body is 
 shorter at night than in the morning. This may sur- 
 prise you, but it is a fact. 
 
 You know, by experience, that a spring wears out with 
 constant use ; that old worn-out sofa-springs cease to 
 yield when you sit down upon them. The same change 
 takes place with the springs between each vertebras ; 
 they grow weary with supporting the weight of the body 
 all day, and at night become weak like the springs of a 
 well-used sofa. This is why you regularly shrink in 
 height towards evening, principally in the fibro-carti- 
 lages of the loins, which have the greatest weight to 
 bear, and are the thickest into the bargain. No sooner 
 are you in bed, and your limbs resting, than these little 
 magic springs begin gradually to recruit ; they recover 
 their elasticity during the* hours of slumber, and in the 
 morning all fatigue has disappeared. 
 
 The difference in height, I must tell you, was not very 
 evident the preceding evening, as in 'a small column like 
 yours the contraction is very trifling, and we must ex- 
 amine very closely in order to perceive it. Still it exists, 
 like many other things which we pass by unobserved. In 
 
THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 57 
 
 a tall person, the difference is sometimes very marked. 
 Buffon asserts that he knew a young man of five feet 
 nine inches, who, one morning, measured only five feet 
 seven and a half inches, in consequence of having spent 
 a night at a ball. We are bound to suppose that he 
 had danced a vast deal. This explains the story of the 
 conscript, who, being just regulation-height, walked all 
 night before presenting himself at the military board of 
 examination. He gained his point, for he was no longer 
 of sufficient stature. Let me observe, however, that 
 such changes only happen to young people in whom the 
 fibro-cartilages are in a soft or pulpy state. Later in 
 life they are too hard to yield in this manner. It is not 
 unusual to find them ossified in old people. 
 
 Speaking to you of this conscript's trick reminds me 
 of the gigantic skeleton of a whale that was exhibited in 
 Paris a long time ago. I still, in my mind's eye, see the 
 place where it was shown. Nothing remains so fresh 
 and green in the memory as the souvenirs of our early 
 youth. The animal, if I remember rightly, measured 150 
 feet in length double the size of an ordinary whale. 
 The public never regretted the money they had to pay 
 for a sight of this wonderful phenomenon. A professor 
 of the Zoological Gardens, puzzled by the advertisement, 
 was enticed into the booth where the whale was shown. 
 His experienced eye discovered the deception in less 
 than two minutes. A plug of cork had been inserted 
 between each vertebra by way of fibro-cartilage ; and if 
 the skeleton measured only 150 feet in length, it was 
 pure modesty on the part of the exhibitor, for he might 
 as easily, by lengthening the cork-plugs, have made it 
 200 feet. 
 
 I recommend you, in studying history, to call to mind, 
 from time to time, this story of the skeleton of the whale. 
 
58 THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 
 
 You will read of characters who appear unnaturally 
 large, but wait, before judging, to ascertain that nothing 
 has been inserted between their vertebrae. 
 
 But we are playing truant a little with our fibro-car- 
 tilages. When you hear ..their names you will not think 
 them very amusing. Still as we are not here for amuse- 
 ment, let us at once return to the vertebral ring, which 
 we seem to be forgetting. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN (Continued.) 
 
 THE human vertebral column, like that of the fish, is 
 surmounted by a throne-like eminence, from which it 
 takes the name of dorsal spine. The ring formed by its 
 being hollowed at the base is also triangular at least in 
 the greater part of the column and the canal running 
 from one vertebra to another, acts as a channel to a 
 whitish cord analogous to the thread-like substance of the 
 same color, which we noticed in fish. We shall say more 
 presently about this cord, which is one of the great 
 powers of the body. To-day it will be sufficient to teach 
 you, that it is all called spinal marrow : marrow be- 
 cause, like all real marrow, it resides in a bony canal ; 
 spinal, because of the spine which protects it from exter- 
 nal shocks. 
 
 Whilst we are explaining the meanings of words, ] 
 may as well tell you the scientific name of this spine. It 
 is called the spinous apophysis. 
 
 Apophysis ! would it not be a pity to ignore such a 
 word? Eliza is a pretty name, but tastes differ. I 
 find apophysis still prettier, although it comes from the 
 Greek. After all, the Greeks were not altogether bar- 
 barians. In point of harmony, their language must be 
 considered equal to ours. 
 
 Whether you consider apophysis harmonious or not, it 
 signifies, in English, eminence. It is a term applied to 
 
 (59) 
 
60 THE VERTEBEAL COLUMN. 
 
 all prominences on bones, and will occur at intervals in 
 the course of our study. 
 
 The ends of the spinous eminences, which are far from 
 being finely pointed, being placed on the same line, meet 
 whenever the column is thrown backward, thus opposing 
 an insuperable barrier to any movement in this direction. 
 
 As to the base, it enlarges, in the shape of a blade, to 
 form the walls of the vertebral canal, and presents at its 
 four corners elongated protuberances with a smooth sur- 
 face : the exterior surface for the pair of the vertebra 
 above, the interior for those of the vertebra below. By 
 means of these swellings all the vertebrae fit firmly into 
 one another, the smooth part of each pair meeting the 
 corresponding pair in the neighboring vertebra. This 
 is why they are called articular apophyses, and, in fact, we 
 find in them a real articulation, with its gliding cartil- 
 ages, its synovial membrane, and its ligaments. 
 
 Other ligaments, which enclose, as it were, the bodies 
 of the vertebrae and the spinous eminences, or apophyses, 
 add further to the solidity of the whole ; as the blade- 
 like parts of the spine are not exactly adjusted to one 
 another, the interstices are filled by ligaments of wonder- 
 ful power, which effectually complete the closing of the 
 canal. 
 
 It is a long time since I first became acquainted with 
 these ligaments ; they attracted my notice when I was a 
 child, and I used to try pertinaciously, but always in vain, 
 to bite through the mass of yellow fibres which we some- 
 times find attached to boiled beef. 
 
 My mother told me that it is called the tirant, a word 
 which appeared to me then very appropriate, and as the 
 learned men have not given it in any of their books, I 
 have, to reassure myself, looked for it in a pretty little 
 dictionary that I have, to which I refer occasionally 
 
THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 61 
 
 when I am at a loss about the orthography of a word. 
 Here is what I found : 
 
 TIKANT, YeUow nerve found in the meat of the butcher's shops. . 
 
 From which I concluded that one should always mis- 
 trust the dictionaries, especially that of a moins que ce ne 
 soit celui de M. Littre. 
 
 The learned name tirant is the yellow nerve ; and I must 
 say that I find the name charming. I must own, that it 
 strikes my eye every time I encounter it in the books, 
 which piled up before me. I remember my earliest studies 
 in Natural History and under whose eyes I made them. 
 
 Having given you a general description of the verte- 
 bra3, the different kinds must now come under notice, for 
 they are not all alike ; some indeed, among the number 
 are very different from the idea you will have formed of 
 them. First, then, how many vertebra are there ? 
 
 You probably think, with my experience, and so many 
 books on the table before me, that I can at once answer 
 your question ; if so, you are mistaken ; with only one 
 book, I should feel less puzzled. 
 
 Bichat, a genius who died at the age of thirty-three, 
 the period when a scientific man is usually but in his ap- 
 prenticeship, ranks indisputably among the masters of 
 modern science. Bichat considers the vertebra to be 
 twenty-four in number. Milne Edwards, whose authori- 
 ty in such matters appears equally reliable, says he finds 
 thirty-three. I should like to name a still higher figure 
 not on my own responsibility, rest assured, but on that 
 of Goethe, Geoffry St. Hilaire, Carus, Owen, and other 
 names, the enumeration of which might alarm you by 
 their number, if I were disposed to overwhelm you with 
 a display of my learning. 
 
62 THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 
 
 To avoid all discussion, I will begin with the vertebras 
 of the neck, about which every one is agreed. 
 
 They are seven in number, and the first and second 
 deserve a special mention. 
 
 Be honest, and tell me whether you have ever given 
 yourself the trouble to remark and admire with what 
 facility you turn your head whenever your curiosity is 
 excited ? Perhaps you imagine it performs this move- 
 ment without any assistance that it is its own master ; 
 if so, understand from this moment, that all its move- 
 ments are the result of a very delicate mechanism which 
 it is most important to comprehend, especially as ignor- 
 ance on this point exposes a person to the danger of un- 
 wittingly killing himself in some cases ; or, what is still 
 worse, of taking a fellow-creature's life without knowing 
 why. It is less trouble to remain ignorant, but ignor- 
 ance is not always bliss. 
 
 It is not the skull which pivots on the vertebral col- 
 umn when we turn our heads ; thanks to solid ligaments, 
 its lower extremity is firmly fixed in two pretty deep 
 hollows made at the apex of the first vertebra of the 
 neck, and the pivoting takes place at the base of this 
 vertebra, which accompanies the head in 1 all its move- 
 ments. You quite understand that it would never do 
 here for the body to be firmly held by the fibro-cartilage, 
 nor for the apophyses to be fitted one into the other. 
 The motion of the vertebra would, in such a case, be too 
 circumscribed. Thus it is simply a bony ring partially 
 rotating, without impediment, on the vertebra beneath, 
 the apophyses of which are flattened obliquely in order 
 to leave to it an entire liberty of action, and the articular 
 ligament, which is very supple, readily accommodates it- 
 self to considerable changes of position. Finally, to sup- 
 port the circle in its rotatory movements, and to prevent 
 
THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 63 
 
 its leaving the surface upon which it glides, a small bony 
 cylinder springs up from the second vertebra just be- 
 tween the two hollows which receive the extremity of the 
 skull, and acts like a peg upon which a hoop oscillates. 
 
 Before we proceed, let us inquire into the names given 
 to these bones, in awarding which im agination has 
 aided science. 
 
 You have an atlas of geography, but can you tell me 
 the derivation of its name ? It comes from the giant 
 Atlas, who, as the Greeks say, carried the heavens upon 
 his back ; the same giant who was afterward trans- 
 formed into a chain of mountains the Atlas of Algiers, 
 the name of which has been given to its neighbor, the 
 Atlantic Ocean. He who could carry the whole celes- 
 tial sphere would surely have strength to bear the 
 weight of our small globe. Ancient geographers used 
 to draw the giant with his large back supporting the 
 globe, hence the name atlas, so familiar to all geograph- 
 ical students. Ancient anatomists on their part thought 
 nothing less than an atlas was necessary to carry this 
 other globe which we all support on our shoulders ; a 
 globe as heavy as the other, when we take into consid- 
 eration all that it is capable of containing, and they 
 thus gave the name of atlas to this first vertebra of the 
 neck upon which the head reposes. 
 
 Speaking of geography, you must have heard of the 
 axis of the earth the line that runs from pole to pole, 
 and upon which the earth turns during its revolution 
 round the sun. The axle of a wheel is the axis on which 
 it turns. The second vertebra in the neck is also an 
 axis, because its peg is the pivot upon which the head 
 performs its rotatory movements. Thus they have named 
 this second bone axis, a Latin word requiring no further 
 explanation. 
 
64 THE VERTEBEAL COLUMN. 
 
 In a word, this little bony cylinder, this peg, this 
 pivot which renders you such essential service when you 
 play at hide-and-seek, has been found upon close exam- 
 ination somewhat like a canine tooth in appearance, 
 with a protuberance behind, consequently the cylinder 
 has been named the odontoid eminence, or odontoid pro- 
 cess, a Greek word, but when I explain to you that 
 odontalgia means toothache, you will understand its 
 signification. 
 
 The history of these two vertebras does not end here. 
 Liberty of movement is a very charming thing, but we 
 are not permitted to enjoy it gratis ; liberty and wis- 
 dom require to walk hand in hand, and, notwithstanding 
 the ease of movement peculiar to this atlas, a single act 
 of imprudence on its part might prove fatal. It has no 
 fibro-cartilage, as we have said, to keep it in its place. 
 Our friend, the yellow ligament, that powerful bond of 
 union of the other vertebras, is also wanting ; it would 
 be too troublesome a guardian. It is true that the 
 odontoid or tooth-like apophysis effectually opposes all 
 backward horizontal movement, but for upward and 
 downward movement it is like the hoop kept in its pro- 
 per place by the peg ; it rises the whole length of the 
 protecting cylinder, and loses its equilibrium in propor- 
 tion as the top of the cylinder tapers off into a sharp 
 point. Suppose now that the head were violently lifted 
 up at this moment, it would drag the atlas to which it 
 is fastened by ligaments, along with it, obliging it to 
 leave its post at the level of the odontoid apophysis. In 
 this position a strong shock given to the body would 
 displace this apophysis, making it slip out of the ring, 
 which would be thrown backward, and thus produce 
 strangulation of the vertebral canal. The spinal mar- 
 row, which was lying at its ease within this canal, 
 
 . 
 
THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 65 
 
 would suddenly find itself compressed by the intruder 
 invading its domains, and sudden death would be the 
 result. You will know the reason of this when we 
 come to the history of the marrow. 
 
 Always remember never to lift, or allow another per- 
 son to lift, a child by the head, as people often do with- 
 out thinking of any harm or risk. In more than one 
 instance, children struggling to escape from this un- 
 pleasant position have been instantly killed, in the way 
 I have just described, at the hands of their affrighted 
 tormentors. I hope you have never watched any one 
 kill a poor rabbit, but, without seeing such a thing, you 
 will be able to understand that these animals are de- 
 prived of life in a moment by pulling the head and tail 
 in contrary directions. The atlas is displaced, and 
 death is instantaneous. 
 
 To remove any uncomfortable impression resulting 
 from what I have just told you, I will give one more 
 example of the unconcern with which people, little 
 thinking it, often trifle with death. There is a game, 
 by no means a pretty one, which is often a great favor- 
 ite with boys viz : turning heels over head. The head 
 is placed upon the ground as a point of support to the 
 whole body, which passes over it ; the slightest false 
 movement would suffice to dislocate the fragile joint of 
 the atlas, and the child would turn over on the other 
 side a corpse. Let us be very thankful this does not 
 oftener happen. Mothers should take warning ! 
 
 You see, my dear child, that if patience is required in 
 order to store all these complicated details in your mind, 
 all these new words fibro-cartilage, axis, odontoid 
 apophysis: which, no doubt, are rather wearisome to 
 you, in spite of all I have been able to say in their favor, 
 you see that, setting aside the satisfying of your curi- 
 
66 THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 
 
 osity, there is a decided advantage in knowing how you 
 are made. Young and old are alike interested in it ; 
 ignorance exposes them both to the same dangers. "Were 
 I Minister of Public Instruction, I would have these 
 things taught in every village school ; and no one shall 
 ever persuade me that the world would be any the worse 
 were all the nursery maids made acquainted with them 
 for the good of those intrusted to their care. 
 
 I have nothing to tell you about the last five verte- 
 brae of the neck, unless it be that they are smaller, finer, 
 more easily moved than those in the rest of the column ; 
 their mobility is chiefly owing to the oblique form of the 
 articular apophyses, which are bevelled, which gives 
 them freer play, and to the feeble development of the 
 spine, the points of which projecting but little, have a 
 longer journey to make before meeting each other. Thus 
 the region of the neck is the most flexible part of the 
 whole column, and if the movements peculiar to it were 
 withdrawn, only leaving those of the atlas upon its 
 axis, we should find it inconvenient to look behind us. 
 
 The region of the back is quite another affair ; in it 
 there are twelve vertebras which scarcely move, so firmly 
 are they packed together. The articular surfaces meet- 
 ing in a straight line mutually lessen each other's power 
 of motion. The spinous process, being elongated, reposes 
 on the process of the vertebra below it, and partly covers 
 it. All these taken together render the region of the 
 back almost immovable, and not without reason. Each of 
 these twelve spinal vertebras has at its side a bar of a 
 cage we are soon to speak of, which would run great risk 
 if its point of support were liable to move sometimes to 
 one side, sometimes to another. 
 
 There are only five vertebras in the region of the loins, 
 but each is six or seven times the size of the small verte- 
 
THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 67 
 
 bras of the neck. The spinous apophyses project consid- 
 erably outward ; but they are sufficiently removed from 
 one another to leave the vertebras a little room to play, 
 especially the first, the articular surfaces of which are 
 slightly rounded, and accommodate themselves more 
 easily to a gliding motion. 
 
 The last vertebrae of the back being more flexible than 
 the others, that part of the column where the back and 
 loins unite has the most flexibility. "It is owing to this 
 that tumblers and jugglers succeed in doubling up their 
 bodies. Nevertheless, the softness of the ligaments in 
 early youth would not suffice for this kind of work, were 
 the miserable creatures, whose trade it is to teach it, not 
 aided in their infamous calling by something else. I 
 have already told you, that the ends of the bones were 
 in the first instance like cartilage : now the large 
 apophyses of the lower vertebras, while passing through 
 this stage, can be bent in any position, and they will 
 afterwards maintain it during the process of hardening. 
 This is what is familiarly called breaking the backs of 
 the poor children. Their backs are not broken, as you 
 see, but are pretty nearly so. 
 
 Seven vertebras of the neck, twelve of the back, dorsal, 
 five of the loins, lumbar, make up the twenty-four ad- 
 mitted by Bichat. We still want other nine to complete 
 the thirty-three Mr. Milne-Edwards assures us are to be 
 found. They do really exist, but so different in appear- 
 ance from the other vertebrae, that we can in some degree 
 understand the scruples of the great anatomist who as- 
 signs them a separate place. 
 
 First of all, there are five vertebrae welded together so 
 as to form one single bone, bent inwards at the base, 
 where the vertebral canal terminates. This bone is 
 called the os sacrum, or sacrum, to call it by its Latin 
 
68 THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 
 
 name but I must plead ignorance if you wish to know 
 why it gets such a fine name. 
 
 The vertebras of the os sacrum are quite distinct for a 
 long time : they only unite after a certain period, and in 
 fact this os sacrum, with its magnificent name, is simply 
 a smuggled bone, the result of a coalition. It is but 
 justice to give to the spinal column the five vertebrae of 
 which it has been slyly deprived. We may say the same 
 of the four very small vertebras which follow the sacrum ; 
 in the first instance separate and distinct, they by and by 
 unite and form a single bone, which itself often becomes 
 one with the sacrum ; but, however imperceptible these 
 bones may be, their title to the rank of vertebrae 
 cannot be denied. They are, in fact, the tail of the 
 column. 
 
 The vertebral column, as we have now passed it in 
 review, with its thirty-three vertebrae and their rows of 
 apophyses, has also certain curves which cause it to re- 
 semble, when seen sidewise, can you guess what ? a 
 caterpillar, with its head half raised as it crawls along. 
 
 In order not to disgust you, my young friend, I have 
 made it a rule to dispense with those ugly anatomical 
 pictures, which would have been most useful in my explana- 
 tions. For once, however, I cannot resist the temptation of 
 showing you one taken from Mr. Milne-Edwards' zoolog- 
 ical illustrations, where, if you wish, you can see many 
 others. This very faithfully represents the appearance 
 of the vertebral column. Is it not very like a caterpillar 
 climbing up a cabbage ? What makes you laugh ? The 
 tinv tail ? Nevertheless the vertebral column terminates 
 
THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN. 69 
 
 exactly in this manner. Those are the poor little ver- 
 tobraa at the end, and there are some very much like them 
 to be found in your cat's tail. 
 
 Now you will say, " What is become of the other 
 vertebras, since you tell me there are more than thirty- 
 three?" 
 
 Where ? Why, at the other end of the column, so let 
 us pass at once from the tail to the head. 
 
CHAPTER YIIL 
 
 THE HEAD AND CHEST. 
 
 GOETHE one of the greatest names in literature, a poet 
 alike in prose or verse, a man of science even in his 
 leisure moments, and one who has done more for science 
 than many who make it a profession Goethe tells us in 
 his memoirs that, as he was one day walking on the 
 Lido sands, close to Yenice, he noticed a sheep's head 
 on the ground, which was split in the most perfect man- 
 ner, and on examining it he felt himself confirmed in an 
 idea he had previously formed- viz, that the skull bones 
 were only vertebrae in another shape. None but a poet 
 would have had such a happy idea, and it is a pity, both 
 for science and for themselves, that literary men are not 
 more frequently inspired to study the laws of nature. 
 Genius may find subjects for investigation everywhere. 
 Assuredly but few of the scientific labors conducted in 
 the laboratory or the study have been more fruitful than 
 this stroll of the poet lounging on the banks of the Lido, 
 if it be true, as Goethe asserts it is, that this sheep's 
 skull first revealed to him this primary law, of which I 
 have already often told you, and which he first intro- 
 duced into the scientific world ; a law in accordance 
 with which all organic structures have been made, 
 and which is always modifying and perfecting itself.* 
 
 * This is the quotation from Goethe's memoirs, which you can 
 read to your papa if he has any curiosity to see it : 
 
 " During one of my frequent rambles over the downs of the Lido, 
 
 (70) 
 
THE HE AD. AND CHEST. 71 
 
 It seems very strange to you, does it not, that after 
 all we have said of the vertebras, ^ve have to search for 
 some of them in these thin, smooth, rounded plates 
 which form the arch of the skull ? As for myself, let 
 me tell you in confidence, the first time I heard it I 
 thought it was only a jest, but reflection has induced me 
 to change my opinion. 
 
 When we come to study the nervous system, and, 
 above all, when we follow out its transformations in 
 animals, it will be easy to convince you that the brain 
 is nothing more than a prolongation of the spinal mar- 
 row, enlarged and perfected, as one might say. This 
 acknowledged, it is but a step further to admit that 
 the skull, this bony covering of the brain, is only a con- 
 tinuation of the bony canal in which the spinal marrow 
 is enclosed. Thus we have a perfect right to con- 
 sider the different pieces which compose the skull as 
 so many vertebras, and to add them to the thirty-three 
 we already have. 
 
 The difficulty is, to tell you how many we here find 
 of these vertebras. Gloethe counted six ; Geoffry St. 
 
 winch separate the Adriatic from the Lagunes of Venice, I found a 
 sheep's head split open in the neatest manner, which not only con- 
 firmed the great truth I had already discovered viz., that all the 
 cranial bones were transformed vertebrae, but also made me under- 
 stand the process of gradual improvement and development by 
 which shapeless organic matter attains a higher organisation ; and 
 then my old belief revived, strengthened by experience, that Na- 
 ture has no secret she is unwilling to reveal somewhere to the atten- 
 tive observer. 
 
 " I was fully convinced that a universal type existed among all 
 organised beings, rising in perfection by means of gradual metamor- 
 phoses, and that this type might, with certain restrictions, be easily 
 recognised in all parts of their organisation, and that it could be 
 equally discovered where it is most deeply concealed namely, in 
 man, the highest type of organised being." 
 
72 THE HEAD AND CHEST. 
 
 Hilaire, seven ; others again find only three, whilst 
 many hold that there, are four, and this would be my 
 own opinion, if I dared to express one on a question 
 about which scientific men are not agreed. To feel 
 myself at ease regarding them, I shall shut up all their 
 books, and retain only one open upon my table. It is 
 true all the others have been made from this one, for it 
 is a skull. 
 
 You can follow me quietly with the point of your 
 finger on your own skull, it will not alarm you, I imag- 
 ine, so well covered as it is ; and do not be frightened 
 beforehand at the names you may hear. When they are 
 too ugly I will spare your feelings by passing them over. 
 
 First, touch the back of your head, at the spot where 
 it joins the neck. What you feel there is the occipital 
 bone, and if you want to know from whence it derives 
 its name, look out the word occiput in a dictionary. You 
 will find that it signifies the back of the head ; it is the 
 opposite of the sinciput, which means the top or summit 
 of the head. 
 
 The occipital bone rests exactly on that atlas of which 
 we have spoken so much, and it is pierced below with a 
 large round hole, through which the spinal marrow 
 enters the skull, where it spreads itself out in a wonder- 
 ful manner, as we shall presently discover. 
 
 You see at a glance that this is a vertebral bone ; it 
 bears the mark of its origin, and presents at the entrance 
 of the canal its two articular apophyses distinctly char- 
 acterised. 
 
 Under each ear you have a little hard lump, very easy 
 to find. It is the mastoid apophysis, a formidable name 
 which you will easily remember on that account. I may 
 as well tell you in passing, that to these points are at- 
 tached the muscles which draw the head to the right or 
 
THE HEAD AND CHEST. 73 
 
 to the left, causing it to pivot on the vertebral column. 
 Carfy your finger from one to the other, making it de- 
 scribe a kind of semicircle, the convexity being upwards. 
 You will very nearly follow the upper border of the 
 occipital bone, irregular in its form, and somewhat resem- 
 bling the teeth of a saw, by means of which it is firmly 
 dovetailed into similar indentations of the bone above it. 
 
 This latter bone forms the arch of the skull, and its 
 name, moreover, suggests the idea of a piece of masonry. 
 It is called the parietal bone, from the Latin word, paries, 
 a wall. It is the largest bone in the head, only the 
 welding which unites the two parts of the contiguous 
 bones in the centre, both front and back, is not found 
 here. This weld is replaced by a zig-zag suture, resem- 
 bling that which borders it on all sides, and unites it to 
 the surrounding bones, so that to any person looking at 
 a skull, these two parts appear to be two separate bones. 
 For this reason anatomists in their books mention two 
 parietals, but that does not prevent us reducing this 
 contraband pair to unity. So we will look upon it as 
 the second vertebra of the skull, of which it forms the 
 principal piece. 
 
 Now put your finger half way between the tip of your 
 ear and your eye, on the spot called the temple, and 
 draw a line toward the other temple, in the same way I 
 made you do over the occipital bone, but making the 
 bend incline a little further back, and you will follow the 
 suture by which the parietal vertebra is connected with 
 the third bone, the name of which requires no explana- 
 tion, it is the frontal bone, or bone of the forehead. 
 
 There is this satisfaction with these bones, especially 
 with the frontal, that their form does not require to be de- 
 scribed. You can ascertain their shapes yourself either 
 in the mirror or with your hand, better than in any book, 
 4 
 
74 THE HEAD AND CHEST. 
 
 for the all-sufficient reason that they vary in ea*eh in- 
 dividual. High, low, round, flat, spacious^ narrow* the 
 forehead differs in every human being ; and without at- 
 taching any real value to this difference, I shall show you 
 by and by, that generally these distinctions represent 
 some decided difference of character ; but if the frontal 
 dimensions are variable, its boundaries are everywhere 
 the same. 
 
 Separate the forefinger and thumb, and place the 
 curve of your hand over the brow, where the nose com- 
 mences ; on pressing on the orbit of each eye with the 
 fingers, exactly at the little prominence which you feel 
 at each side, you will thus touch the three anterior points 
 where the frontal bone terminates. It extends backward 
 to the extremity of the little cavern within which the 
 eye dwells with all the guarantees of security suited to 
 so important an organ, and then joins itself below with 
 an irregular mass of protuberances, points, and bony em- 
 inences, which extend into the interior of the head as far 
 as the occipital orifice. 
 
 Within this orifice are to be found parts known by all 
 kinds of strange names, quite useless to you, and so I 
 shall decline giving you any explanation about this re- 
 gion, which completes the fastenings of the cranium below, 
 and which in living persons is perfectly inaccessible to 
 observers, hidden as it is in its depths. 
 
 The longer I contemplate the skull I hold in my hands, 
 the more natural it appears to find in it a body of ver- 
 tebrae. If you recollect what I recently told you, it is 
 the body of the great cranial vertebra of the parietal, 
 which is attached to it on either side by two prolonged 
 processes, of which the principal, called the temporal, 
 supports the ear, and terminates above at the temple 
 hence its name. 
 
THE HEAD AND CHEST. 75 
 
 The skull will thus be found to be composed of three 
 vertebrae, one in front, the frontal ; the second behind, 
 the occipital ; and the vertebras of the centre which, 
 under the various names of parietal, temporal, etc., etc., 
 make up the whole. All this is clear, and easy to re- 
 member ; and as we have come to this conclusion, we 
 will not ask anatomists for their opinions on the subject. 
 
 And this fourth vertebra, you will say, what are you 
 going to do with it, seeing the entire skull has been 
 completed ? Do you remember the small vertebras at 
 the extremity of the spinal column, which seem only rudi- 
 mentary, forming in reality no part of the vertebral 
 canal, seeing that the marrow does not reach them ? 
 They have a counterpart in a very small bone, which 
 forms a direct continuation of the frontal, extended on 
 the median or middle line, and seems to be the last effort 
 of nature in her completion of the vertebral column. 
 Whilst we have been speaking of this column, I have 
 more than once pictured it to myself as resembling a large 
 walking-stick terminating in a point, the head of which 
 would be the cranium. The bone we are talking about, 
 the fourth vertebra, without office, would thus be a kind 
 of ornament added to the head. And, indeed, it might 
 truly pass for an ornamental bone, as it contributes 
 greatly to the beauty of the face, inasmuch as it is the 
 bone of the nose. 
 
 I can fancy you putting your hand to your nose, and 
 thinking me very bold to compare it to a vertebra. You 
 allow that appearances go a long way with you. The 
 handsomest nose in the world your own, if you like 
 has only an ugly rudimentary, or imperfectly formed, 
 bone for its foundation, which stops at the bridge, as it 
 is called. The remainder, to make use of a comparison 
 that I sincerely hope will soon be out of fashion, the re- 
 
76, THE HEAD AND CHEST. 
 
 mainder is but a little crinoline gf cartilage which has 
 usurped the place it occupies. It is principally on this 
 account that the face of a dead person is not pleasant to 
 look upon, as only the really solid portions are left, and 
 an ugly orifice replaces those elegant wings or nostrils, 
 which are the great charni of a beautiful nose. For this 
 reason ancient poets called death the flat-nosed one, as 
 if to defy it at a distance. All noses are flat when they 
 lose their little cartilaginous crinoline, whether aquiline 
 or snub, it matters not. 
 
 With the nasal bone, whether considered as a vertebra 
 or not, between ourselves, it is of no importance begins 
 the series of what are called the bones of the face. 
 
 Of these there are a great number, fourteen in all, if I 
 give you the official computation, but I shall abridge 
 them and only mention the three principal ones, which 
 properly speaking we have close at hand. 
 
 The first of these is the cheek-bone, of which there are 
 naturally two, as each cheek requires one bone. One 
 part rests upon a long projection springing from the 
 temporal to -support the cheek in front of the corner of 
 the mouth ; the other upon the upper jaw just above the 
 molars, and goes upward to rejoin the frontal at the spot 
 where you just now placed your finger. This is quite a 
 geographical study, you see. But I think it would have 
 been a great pleasure to me to have been able to pass 
 my finger over my cheek when I was a little boy, and tell 
 the name of everything it met with there. Unhappily, at 
 your age I knew far less than you do, and so it is, the 
 world progresses generation after generation, each one 
 making an advance in knowledge. 
 
 The second bone you have to examine is the upper 
 jaw. Like the parietal bone its two halves only meet 
 in the middle line, and are separated by a very percept- 
 
THE HEAD AND CHEST. 77 
 
 ible wall. But there also tlie weld seems only to have 
 been forgotten, so I shall not adopt the custom of con- 
 sidering it as two bones it is only one with a cleft in 
 the middle. 
 
 The upper jaw is the important part in the arrange- 
 ment of the facial bones. It extends alongside the nose 
 up to the frontal, with which it articulates almost upon 
 the same line as the bone of the nose, which it encloses 
 between its two nasal processes, so to speak, as in a 
 frame. We have seen that it extends from the side 
 under the cheek until it meets the cheek-bone. There 
 the inferior surface remains which forms the whole roof 
 of the palate within the mouth, excepting a small band 
 at the bottom which is separated by a wavy line which 
 has been classed as a distinct bone under the name of 
 palate-bone. I should be sorry to cavil about this bone, 
 but could we together examine it uncovered, I am sure 
 you would agree with me, that it is simply a piece of the 
 upper jaw in which the weld has been 'forgotten. 
 
 If we had not already studied the teeth at full 
 length, I should have many things to tell you about 
 those valuable little pearls of which your jaws are the 
 jewel-cases ; as the ground has been already gone over, 
 it wo*uld be useless to recommence with them. 
 
 I might almost make the same remark respecting the 
 lower jaw, the third bone of the face, which I wish to 
 talk to you about. When treating of mastication we 
 discussed this bone, and later, when referring to the lion, 
 I was under the necessity of explaining to you its artic- 
 ulation ; its most curious feature, that which most merits 
 our attention, is, that it is the only movable bone to be 
 found in the head. But we have enough to do with 
 what you are still ignorant of, ^without going back to 
 what you know already. 
 
78 THE HEAD AND CHEST. 
 
 Anatomists consider the lower jaw to be only one 
 bone, because its two parts have the good, nature to 
 unite in early life ; if you wish to know the reason, it 
 is easily ascertained. The lower jaw works hard, and 
 bestirs itself, whilst the other lacks energy to unify 
 itself, if I may be allowed the expression, its idle halves 
 lazily waiting the shock without meeting its antagonist 
 half-way, while the lower jaw rapidly unites its halves 
 in the incessant effort of a common action. Nothing so 
 greatly promotes union as acting in concert, and what 
 happens in the jaws occurs also in society. Take a 
 party of little girls, for instance, divisions quickly dis- 
 appear when they all agree to play at the same game. 
 I mention this as an example you are probably ac- 
 quainted with, though no doubt others might be cited 
 with advantage. 
 
 To return to the bones of the face which you will 
 lose sight of if we chatter so much over our philosophy, 
 it was there Goethe found three out of the six vertebras 
 that he saw in the sheep's head. 
 
 " There are," says he, in the beautiful language of an 
 observing artist, which 'you must get some one to explain 
 to you, " There are three vertebra for the posterior por- 
 tion, enclosing, as we may say, the cerebral treasure, 
 and the terminations of life delicately ramifying and 
 spreading out like branches in the interior ; three verte- 
 bras from the anterior portion which have communica- 
 tion with the external world, and which apprehend and 
 comprehend it." 
 
 The idea is certainly beautiful, fitted to captivate a 
 poet, and in spite of myself makes me think of an im- 
 pious remark made by a compatriot of the great natu- 
 ralist, " Had Goethe bee^n by when the world was created, 
 he might have given some hints." Unfortunately the 
 
THE HEAD AND CHEST. 79 
 
 vertebrae were all arranged before his day, and although 
 I have studied and restudied my anatomical skull, I can- 
 not bring myself to agree with Goethe as to the authen- 
 ticity of his three bones. We scarcely see in the bones 
 of the face anything beyond appendages to the great 
 central vertebra, mere accessories to the vertebral 
 system, but having themselves no place of their own 
 in it. 
 
 This character, already pretty apparent in the cheek- 
 bone and even more visible in the lower jaw, becomes 
 self-evident in another series of bony pieces, which seem 
 to be a repetition, the first especially, of the lower jaw, 
 and no one has ever felt inclined to consider them as 
 vertebras. I speak of the bones in the chest. 
 
 You may read over again the description of the chest 
 that I formerly gave you. It will interest you more 
 now that you know a little about the construction of the 
 bones, and that you have made the acquaintance of the 
 vertebral column which acts as a basis to the chest bones. 
 You only require now to see what I have described set 
 in motion. 
 
 ?have related the movements and workings of the 
 diaphragm at some length ; this model servant of the 
 good old times, who does duty for the lungs without our 
 troubling ourselves about it. Hitherto I have spoken 
 of it separately ; but it has assistants in those twelve 
 pairs of bars which diverge right and left from the dor- 
 sal vertebrae to form the thoracic cage. I must tell you 
 in passing, that this term is taken from the word thorax, 
 a Greek word signifying chest, and one we shall pre- 
 sently require to make use of. 
 
 You know the first seven pairs of ribs are supported 
 on a bony plate called the sternum, or chest-bone, which 
 unites them all, and which closes the cage in front oppo- 
 
80 THE HEAD AND CHEST. 
 
 site to the dorsal vertebrae, which close it behind. Here, 
 then, you find the ribs are held fast at both ends, and at 
 first sight you will be unable to perceive how they can 
 possibly assist in the dilatations and contractions of the 
 lungs ; but nature has many an artifice. 
 
 These ribs are not hard throughout their entire 
 length ; at the two points where they join the chest- 
 bone and the spinal column, they terminate in cartilage?, 
 which possess a certain degree of flexibility, and which 
 never completely ossify except in extreme old age. 
 Moreover, they do not form a regular curve. Picture 
 to yourself the two halves of a hoop slightly twisted 
 inwardly and obliquely one over the other, and you will 
 understand what I mean. 
 
 "What takes place when you pull the cord of a Vene- 
 tian blind, of which tlxe bars are inclined downwards 1 
 They all rise, turn their lower edge outward, and with- 
 out the frame moving, a space is immediately made 
 through which air and light enter the apartment. 
 
 It is just the same with our ribs, small cords run be- 
 tween them from one to the other, the names of which 
 are not very alarming. They are called intere<^tal 
 muscles. When the moment comes for dilating the 
 lungs, all the small cords become stiff. The ribs raise 
 themselves by slightly twisting the cartilages, which 
 easily yield. The inward curve becomes an outward 
 one, and the cage is immediately enlarged at the sides, 
 whilst the diaphragm elongates it by descending to- 
 wards the abdomen. Do not forget that the sternum is 
 itself elastic, seeing it is intersected by cartilaginous 
 bands, and that the heaving of its sides pushes its lower 
 point outward, which so far increases the space in the 
 chest. All return to their place the moment the dia- 
 phragm ascends ; and the lungs, compressed into a space 
 
THE HEAD AND CHEST. 81 
 
 which confines them at once on every side, are soon 
 obliged to expel the superfluous air. 
 
 I hope, dear child, this will help you to understand 
 why your mother thinks it so necessary you should 
 stand and sit erect. When the body is left to itself, 
 and the shoulders weigh on the chest by bearing on it, 
 all this rise and fall of the ribs is only partially carried 
 on, because the slender cords as they stretch themselves 
 are unequal to the task of raising up the shoulders, an 
 enormous weight for them, respiration is but imperfectly 
 carried on, and the entire economy suffers, for we have 
 already proved that to live and breathe are synonymous. 
 But there is something still more serious in this than 
 momentary inconvenience. All these cartilages, so 
 pliable at your age, take a false bend- for want of the 
 proper movements assigned to them. The chest is 
 arrested in its development, and the least evil resulting 
 from it is to find oneVself when grown up, I will not 
 say humpbacked, for that is not always the case, but 
 bent double like an old person before our time. This 
 will come soon enough, believe me, without seeking it. 
 
 I have still some advice to give you about these deli- 
 cate and precious little ribs,' the movements of which 
 are of great importance to you. It can scarcely be 
 useful to you until you are a little older ; but never 
 mind, take it whilst we are on this subject, you can 
 keep it for by and by. It is hardly necessary to tell you 
 that a certain article of a young lady's dress is tightened 
 by lacing to give her a fine shape ; the mischief is not 
 very great when the lacing is drawn in moderation, but 
 from what I have just told you, you will easily see what 
 inevitably happens to all foolish girls who aim too ener- 
 getically at possessing a figure like that of the wasp. 
 If the bars of the Venetian blinds were very firmly 
 4* 
 
82 THE HEAD AND CHEST. 
 
 * 
 
 wrapped up and then bound round with string, you 
 might pull away at the inner cord but nothing would 
 move. This, is precisely the trick this murderous lacing 
 plays on those who pull it with all their force. 
 
 Why thus heedlessly set at naught the wise arrange- 
 ments of Nature, who has planned everything so as to 
 leave freedom to the movements of the chest? The 
 best gift she can bestow upon us here is a capacious 
 chest, in which the great organs of life have space 
 enough to work at their ease. It is a great misfortuue 
 when the chest lacks capacity, and the lungs consequently 
 are confined within too narrow an abode. A defect of 
 this kind often induces feeble and delicate health, too 
 often ending in premature death. To reduce of our 
 own free will a naturally well-formed and capacious 
 cavity, is worse than folly, it is almost a crime, seeing 
 that it is the first step towards suicide. When you shall 
 have grown up to be a big girl, never lace your corsets 
 too tightly. Begin at once to hold your body erect. 
 Throw your shoulders back so as to spare the cords 
 of your little ribs, and thus you will find out how use- 
 ful is the history of the twelve pairs of ribs and the 
 sternum. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE ARMS AND LEGS. 
 
 WE now enter upon the real territory of the bones. 
 
 Up to the present time we have only met with bones 
 occupying, if I may so speak, a secondary position. The 
 vertebrae and the ribs . are, properly speaking, only the 
 casings ; the bones of the face are but accessory pieces 
 without movement, and, so to say, without function. 
 The lower jaw is the only bone we have seen really 
 playing an active part, and it is but partially free, held 
 in check as it is on all sides by bands and ligaments. 
 In the arms and legs the bones are lords and masters ; 
 they occupy the heart of the place, and the others group 
 themselves around them to serve them in their function, 
 which is to transport the body and to seize upon the 
 objects around it. 
 
 Travellers tell us that African negroes can steal with 
 perfect ease by means of their feet, and in public shows 
 you may sometimes see mountebanks walk upon their 
 hands" with their head downward. Little boys some- 
 times think this very delightful, and torture their wrists 
 in imitating them. The arms and legs can, then, ex- 
 change functions when required. This is because our 
 four limbs are all made after the same model, with slight 
 differences, determined by the difference of their func- 
 tions, and this again is an example of the way in which 
 Nature varies her productions, still preserving the model 
 in which they are formed. 
 
 (83) 
 
84 . . THE ARMS AND LEGS. 
 
 We have two animals in our Zoological Gardens 
 which teach us with what ease nature converts our arms 
 into legs, and vice versa. The bear frequently deprives 
 sportsmen of their lives by hugging them against its 
 chest with its fore-paws, using them as arms ; and the 
 monkey exhibits a species of hand at the extremities of 
 its legs. 
 
 Look well at this little woodcut. 
 
 It represents a bear's paw. Could you not almost 
 believe it to be the sole of a human foot ? It would 
 seem as if Nature had intended to put feet on the arms 
 of the bear and hands on the monkey's legs, modifying, 
 consequently, the two pairs of members thus perfected. 
 
 If this be true, you may expect to find a great simi- 
 larity between the arm and the leg, and such will prove 
 to be the case ; but you must not complain, for it 
 will render our study of these limbs easier and more 
 interesting. 
 
 First we will notice the arm; it is right to begin 
 with it, for in this manner you carry out Nature's 
 laws. 
 
 Have you ever remarked in infants, whose legs are 
 utterly incapable of supporting the weight of the body, 
 how strong by comparison their arms are? and how 
 dangerous their little hands, so delicate in appearance, 
 are even to a man when by chance they grasp his bea^ ? 
 This has happened to me more than once. There is a 
 
THE .ARMS AND LEGS. 85 
 
 reason for everything, and the reason for this difference 
 between the strength of the arms and that of the legs 
 is because the bones of the arms are ready for work 
 long before those of the legs. The foot is still in a half 
 cartilaginous state, while the bones in the hand are 
 almost completely formed ; and from the fingers to the 
 shoulder, all the bony part of the upper limb is equally 
 in advance of the . corresponding part of the lower 
 one. 
 
 This is a lesson Nature teaches all of us, my dear 
 child. Before we can act, knowledge is necessary 
 therefore, the hand, which serves to educate the infant ; 
 the hand, with which it touches all it sees to confirm 
 the still uncertain indications of an inexperienced eye ; 
 the hand, so excellent a preceptor, is perfected before 
 the foot. The latter is a passive attendant destined 
 to come into use afterward to bring him face to face 
 with difficulties and dangers, when he shall have learned 
 to understand or appreciate them. If, then, you should 
 happen to be left at school after your elder sisters have 
 been introduced into society, do not consider yourself 
 ill-used. When the hand has accomplished its prepar- 
 atory duty, the foot will take its turn. 
 
 The arm is supported in its movements on a large base 
 fixed to the trunk, called the shoulder ; it is composed 
 of two bones, the scapula and the clavicle. 
 
 The scapula is easily found. Put your hand to your 
 shoulder-joint, at the place where soldiers wear their 
 epaulets, and move your arm up and down. You will 
 feel a bone, which appears to dance with every move- 
 ment of the arm : that is the scapula. Mind you do not 
 put your hand too near your chest, or you will feel the 
 clavicle instead of the scapula. You can easily find out 
 if you have made tbis mistake by passing your finger so 
 
86 THE ARMS AND LEGS. 
 
 far as the sternum, on the top of which the clavicle 
 rests. 
 
 Underneath the point just indicated, a round hole 
 exists in the scapula, into which the bone of the arm 
 enters, whence it, the scapula, descends in a triangular 
 form, the extremity of which you can touch by passing 
 one hand under the arm-pit. This part of the scapula 
 extends almost as far behind as the vertebras, but it 
 takes care not to approach near enough to articulate 
 with it. It would no longer possess sufficient liberty to 
 accompany all the movements of the arm as it now does ; 
 and so essential to its action is freedom, that it has not 
 even a fibrous capsule binding it to the vertebral column. 
 It is simply fastened to it by muscles, and this is the only 
 example I can give you in the human body of a bone 
 playing freely without being tied to its neighbors by 
 this tough covering, of which the fibrous capsules are 
 composed. 
 
 A certain solidity is, nevertheless, necessary to this 
 movable foundation ; it must be placed upon something 
 firmer than muscles. Such is the service rendered by 
 the clavicle. The clavicle articulates with the sternum 
 on one side, and on the other with a large apophysis of 
 the scapula, which exactly forms the point where the 
 epaulet is placed. The clavicle is a kind of cross-beam, 
 placed like a buttress, which retains the scapula in its 
 right place, preventing its being driven against the 
 chest by any sudden shock. The articulation is, other- 
 wise, one of the most simple. Suppose a wand fixed at 
 its two ends, and see-sawing upon the sternum as the 
 scapula rises and falls here, indeed, a powerful fibrous 
 band is necessary, and the capsule, fastening the ex- 
 tremity of the clavicle to the sterum, presses so closely 
 upon it, that the clavicle cannot be dislocated without 
 breaking the capsule. 
 
THE ARMS AND LEGS. 87 
 
 Between the scapula and the clavicle which supports 
 it, there is a space filled exclusively with muscles. This 
 space forms a hollow in thin children, which you have 
 probably more than once observed. 
 
 The chief office of the clavicle is to permit of the arm 
 being extended from the trunk, and to act as a support 
 when the arm is crossed over the chest. Thus the clavi- 
 cle is only to be found in animals to which this move- 
 ment is familar, as, for instance, the ape and the bear, 
 the two neighbors we recently alluded to. Watch a 
 squirrel as he nibbles at a nut ; by the way in which he 
 turns and twists it- between his two fore paws, which 
 meet just at his little nose, you can assure yourself that 
 his clavicle is in geod order. The cat, and especially 
 the dog, which use their fore paws to less advantage, 
 have, instead of a clavicle, only a small bone suspended 
 in the muscles, retained by ligaments to the scapula and 
 sternum, which it does not touch. The horse, which 
 uniformly moves its four legs in a straight line, has no 
 clavicle at all ; and the ass of La Fontaine, who wished 
 to caress his master, in order to have done so elegantly, 
 would have had need of a clavicle which he had not. On 
 the other hand, in birds, where much strength of wing is 
 required to support them in their flight, the clavicles 
 have so important a part to perform, that, to increase 
 their solidity, they are firmly knit together, and form but 
 one bone, which is shaped like the letter Y, the two 
 branches forming to the scapula a point of support, at 
 once solid and resisting. Ask to look at this bone the 
 next time you see any one carve a partridge ; it looks 
 like a small fork leaning against the sternum ; hence its 
 name, furca, the Latin for fork. 
 
 Perhaps I ought to "have reserved this for a later les- 
 son, but I could not allow so excellent an opportunity to 
 
88 THE ARMS. AND LEGS. ' 
 
 escape me, of giving you an idea of the way in which 
 the organs of relation are modified in proportion to the 
 importance of their functions in the different animals, 
 and -how they disappear one by one, leaving intact the 
 leading features of the plan on which they are grouped 
 or classified. The clavicle is the first among the impor- 
 tant bones in the human body that does not respond to 
 our call, as we review the bones of those animals next 
 below man : the movement over which it presides is to 
 some extent an entirely human one, as you can under- 
 stand if you watch a dancing bear or a tumbling monkey 
 at its games. 
 
 Moreover, we need not turn to animals in order to 
 observe the modifications of the clavicle, modified by the 
 difference of the functions they have to perform. I can 
 give you a curious example of this without going farther 
 than the human species. Can you believe me when I 
 tell you that, making due allowance for the difference 
 of size, your mother has a longer clavicle than your 
 father ? This is, nevertheless, the case, and in little girls 
 too, the clavicle keeps the scapula at a more respectable 
 distance from the sternum than in boys, because it is 
 proportionately longer in the former. Throwing stones 
 is not a ladylike occupation, but it may for once be ex- 
 cusable on the plea of scientific interest. Let a boy and 
 girl each throw a stone at the same moment ; owing to 
 the length of her clavicle, the little girl cannot throw 
 her arm forward with the same ease and neatness as the 
 boy. Ladies who might wish to amuse themselves by 
 throwing stones, would never succeed in sending them 
 any distance for this same reason ; nor could they give 
 a good blow with the fist even had they strong arms, 
 which are sometimes to be met with in women. It is a 
 kind of inferiority of which they need not complain, for 
 
THE AEMS AND LEGS. 89 
 
 the result is more precious to them than the power of 
 boxing. Give to the strongest man a child to carry in 
 his arms, and he will soon be tired of the weight ; whilst 
 a small, slight woman will carry it for hours together, 
 and never complain thanks to the extra length of her 
 clavicle, which allows her arm a more convenient point 
 of support as it crosses over her chest. Now, observe 
 how an inch more or less in a bone only the thickness 
 of your finger assigns the part each should play ; to the 
 woman, that of carrying the child ; to the man, that of 
 defending both. 
 
 Let*us now proceed to the history of the arm. 
 
 Without much study you can see that the arm is di- 
 vided into three portions, which may be easily recog- 
 nised. One extends from the shoulder to the elbow, the 
 second from the elbow to the wrist, and the third from 
 the wrist to the end of the fingers. These are, properly 
 speaking, the arm, the forearm, and the hand. 
 
 There is only one bone in the arm, the humerus, the 
 form of which you will find it difficult to ascertain, 
 owing to the thick layers of muscles with which it is 
 covered. Examined in a skeleton, it presents three lon- 
 gitudinal ridges, especially in the centre, for it is rounded 
 toward the shoulder, and flattened toward the elbow, 
 forming so convenient a leaning surface when you fall 
 asleep with your head resting upon your hand 
 
 Only the two extremities of the humerus deserve our 
 attention. 
 
 The upper extremity at the inner side forms a sort of 
 half ball, and is called the head of the humerus ; it fits 
 into the round hole in the scapula, of which I spoke to 
 you very recently. If you have ever remarked an em- 
 broidery frame, you can form a tolerably correct idea of 
 the articulation of the arm and shoulder. It is by means 
 
90 THE ARMS* AND LEGS. 
 
 of a similar mechanism that the circle upon which the 
 piece to be worked is stretched, the tambour, as it 
 is called, inclines at will in every direction. The foot 
 which holds it is screwed on to a ball, which can turn in 
 any required way in a hollow half sphere. Only, as the 
 arm requires to be always ready to move, the screw that 
 presses the articulation of the frame, and fixes it in its 
 place, would have an injurious effect here, and naturally 
 we have nothing of the sort. More than that, the cavity, 
 into which the head of the humerus passes, has not even 
 depth sufficient to receive the whole of it ; thus more 
 liberty is given to the joints, at the expense, it is frue, of 
 its solidity ; but this is a law we know already. 
 
 To add to this precious liberty which so facilitates 
 the movements of the arm, the fibrous capsule of the joint 
 is only incased in a loose bag, in which the head of the 
 humerus moves with ease in its cavity. This capsule 
 is so long that, in .cases where the arm and shoulder are 
 pulled in contrary directions, it allows the surfaces of 
 the two bones in contact to separate almost an. inch, 
 which could not occur in any other joint without break- 
 ing it. In these cases, the head of the humerus leaves 
 its cavity, and, if the neighboring muscles did not re- 
 tain it in the right direction, as they stiffen themselves 
 around it, the slightest shock would suffice to throw it 
 to one side. This is what happens in accidents where 
 the weight of the body falls on the arm placed in a 
 false position ; the shoulder is dislocated ; in other words, 
 the articulation can no longer act, the little ball is driven 
 out of its round hole, within which, its polished, shiny 
 surface allowed it to move so easily. 
 
 No matter how loose the bandage of the capsule may 
 be, you can readily imagine how this change of position 
 must stretch it ; so the only thing to be done is to send 
 
THE ARMS AND LEGS. 91 
 
 off quickly for a surgeon to put all in its. place again. 
 Inflammation soon appears in the tortured ligaments, 
 and setting a limb is a painful operation, from which I 
 trust you may be preserved. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE AEMS AND LEGS (Continued.) 
 
 You frequently hear of a dislocated shoulder ; dis- 
 located elbows are by. no means so common. You will 
 understand the reason of this when you come to examine 
 closely into the articulation of the elbow. The humerus at 
 this point terminates in a hinge very similar to the pulley 
 invented by man, and which has in all probability been 
 suggested to him by Nature's own model. Take hold of 
 your wrist, pressing the thumb against your forefinger, 
 and pass the hand around the wrist ; it is exactly in this 
 way that the bone of which you feel the point at the ex- 
 tremity of the elbow, and which is called the cubitus, 
 comes and gjpes on the hinge of the humerus, which it 
 seems to grasp with a kind of half-open hand. * 
 
 You can imagine this being much more solid than a 
 ball rolling in a hole or socket, especially as the hinge 
 thus formed can only move in one direction, and so al- 
 lows the arm no other movement than in a straight line, 
 so as to raise the hand to the shoulder or to lower it. 
 When you turn your elbow inward or outward it is not 
 the elbow joint which contributes to these movements ; 
 they proceed from the shoulder ; the lower bone is drawn 
 along by the humerus in its evolutions without their 
 respective positions, varying a hairsbreadth. 
 
 The mechanism of this articulation can be examined 
 with the utmost ease, as the bones at this point are sim- 
 ply covered with skin, and you can feel with your fingers 
 
 (92) 
 
THE ARMS AND LEGS. 93 
 
 how they move without having to consult an ugly skele- 
 ton, as I constantly do that I may make no mistake. 
 
 First raise your hand to your shoulder, bending your 
 elbow as much as possible. The hinge of the humerus is 
 thus exposed, and if you place your finger on it you will 
 soon feel it, when you extend the arm, driven away by 
 the bone which glides on the hinge. Immediately above 
 this hinge is a small hollow between the two protuber- 
 ances which terminate the humerus, externally and in- 
 ternally. The bone of the elbow can move thus far, but 
 on reaching the bottom of the hollow it strikes against 
 it with its point, and suddenly stops, hence the impossi- 
 bility of bending the arm backward, no matter how little. 
 If you like to know what this impertinent point, which 
 keeps the arm in its proper place is called, it is the ole- 
 cranon or olecranon process. Persons, in speaking of 
 accidents, sometimes make use of this word to show their 
 knowledge ; you will now understand it if you hear it. 
 
 Here we are, my dear child, embarked in a regular 
 course of anatomy, and if we intend to accomplish it and 
 amuse ourselves by the way, we have no time to lose. 
 Take your courage in both hands to follow me as best 
 you can ; a little fatigue is an incentive to the mind as 
 well as to the body, when it is not abused. 
 
 In the little experiment you have just made, this bone, 
 which chased away your finger in moving on the hume- 
 rus, did not seem very large ; nevertheless, if you touch 
 the forearm below the elbow, you will find that it is a 
 bone of considerable size. How does it happen that this 
 large bone becomes all at once so small, just at the spot 
 where it would seem to require all its force ? 
 
 This is a problem requiring reflection, did I not save 
 you the trouble. We have two bones which run parallel, 
 the one to the other, throughout the length of the fore- 
 
94 THE ARMS AND LEGS. 
 
 arm, and the space which separates them is so well filled 
 by muscles that the two appear as one. Besides this, 
 they are united by numerous ligaments, and a long cov- 
 ering of a particular kind, such as we shall presently see 
 when speaking of the muscles, passes from one to the 
 other, from the elbow to the wrist You will easily 
 understand mistakes being made when we are hot ac- 
 quainted with these facts, and, packed together as they 
 are, they are apt to deceive young people who, left to 
 themselves, would never discover the truth. 
 
 Two bones have been placed here for a good reason. 
 Are you aware how very little strength you would have 
 in your hand, if aided solely by its particular muscles, 
 your hand turned upon your forearm, as your head turns 
 upon your neck ? The smallest effort would draw it to 
 one side, and the best of cooks with the best intentions 
 would be utterly incapable of tossing a pancake. 
 
 Happily the hand is not left to depend upon its own 
 resources. It is firmly bound at the wrist to a bone, the 
 radius, which directs it in all its movements, and which 
 accompanies the ulna, or cubitus, the whole length of the 
 forearm. The little round prominence close to the wrist, 
 in a line from your little finger, is the extremity of the 
 cubitus. Immediately beside it, commences the bone 
 which supports the hand, which here spreads out and 
 attaches itself, by a larger surface, to the wrist, and then 
 terminates at the elbow in a sort of small crown, similar 
 to the one at the lower extremity of the cubitus. In 
 this manner, the two bones appear to be of the same 
 dimensions at each end, the smaller extremity of the one 
 leaning against the larger extremity of the other. 
 
 As you bend your arm, the movement is performed by 
 the hinge of the cubitus, whilst its neighbor remains 
 passive. When you turn your hand, it is the neighbor 
 
THE AEMS AND LEGS. 95 
 
 which is the acting power, the cubitus in its turn being 
 passive. The elbow and the hand have each its own 
 particular agent, otherwise you could not turn your 
 hand without moving the whole arm from the shoulder 
 down, for the grooves at the elbow-joint are too firmly 
 secured, one into the other, to admit of the smallest de- 
 viation to one side. Judge for yourself how- easy it 
 would be. ' Take hold of your arm above the wrist ; 
 hold it very tightly, so as to prevent the movement of 
 the bone charged to aid the hand, and you will see what 
 contortions of the shoulder are necessary in order to 
 turn the palm of your hand outward. 
 
 I must now tell you the name of this bone, without 
 which knitting a stocking would be a terrible affair. It 
 is called the radius, from the Latin word, signifying ray, 
 or spoke. If you see no connexion between the two, 
 recollect that wheels have spokes. Again, wheels turn, 
 and the radius turns the hand ; but this, I think, is a 
 little far-fetched. But as there are many words which 
 signify nothing at all, we must not be too exacting as 
 regards those which seem to have a meaning. 
 
 At length comes the hand. You are pretty well ac- 
 quainted with it, I presume, and what I have to tell you 
 about it will not be difficult. Like the arm it is divided 
 into three parts the carpus, the metacarpus, and the 
 fingers. 
 
 The carpus is the scientific name for the wrist. It is 
 composed of two rows of bones, each row consisting of 
 four, closely pressed one against the other, and arranged 
 so as to leave a passage in the intermediate space for the 
 nerves and arteries of the hand, which traverse the wrist 
 through tunnels, much in the same way as railways do 
 mountains, where these precious organs are sheltered 
 from all accidents. The veins, less delicate, pass nearer 
 
96 THE ARMS AND LEGS. 
 
 the surface, when they separate, forming raised lines, 
 clearly perceived if not on your little hands, which 
 have not yet been accustomed to work, they are plainly 
 visible on the hands of those inured to manual labor. It 
 is, in fact, on the back of the hand that the proverb 
 which you, perhaps, have yet to learn, is best verified, 
 " Who sees his veins, sees his pains." Believe me, if it 
 is prettier to have tiny veins well hidden under the skin, 
 it is more glorious to have them visible. 
 
 Each little bone in the wrist has a name j but it is 
 useless to go on telling you of them one by one. The 
 scaphoid, the trapezium, the os magnum or great bone, 
 and the semi-lunar. All this cannot be very interesting. 
 There is, however, one to which I wish to call your at- 
 tention, for the curiosity and originality of the thing, for 
 it seems to be a kind of superfluity, and appears to an- 
 swer no purpose. This is the pisiforme, a word implying 
 a bone in the shape of a pea, and it is in reality some- 
 what like a large dried pea. 
 
 Bend your hand forward. At the spot where it plays 
 upon the head of the radius, you will easily ascertain this 
 spot by pinching the joint with your thumb and first 
 finger, the little ball of the pisiforme will glide under 
 your finger with each movement of the hand. The pisi- 
 forme seems thrown to the extremity of the first row on 
 the inner corner of the wrist, like an advanced sentinel 
 who takes no share in the manoeuvres of his battalion ; 
 and, in fact, this little bone plays no part in the move- 
 ments executed by his big comrades. 
 
 As you may readily imagine, these movements are not 
 extensive. The carpal bones are tightly compressed one 
 against the other by a triple row of ligaments ; a single 
 synovial membrane, the folds of which bury themselves 
 in the tiny hollows of their articulation, covers the whole. 
 
THE ARMS AND LEGS. 97 
 
 Thus packed up, they can hardly move from their place. 
 An almost imperceptible sliding takes place between 
 the bones of each row. Between the two rows the move- 
 ment is more sensible, for the joint uniting them has 
 rounded surfaces, which permit of their being more 
 readily displaced. Having mentioned the os magnum, 
 or great bone, I may as well remark, that it is on this 
 bone that the movements in the interior of the wrist are 
 chiefly performed, and it sometimes happens that it is 
 thrown out of its place ; as it is the only one of this band 
 exposed to such an accident, I will tell you how to find 
 the bone. Follow, as far as the wrist, the continuation 
 of the bone which forms the middle finger, and of which 
 we shall speak immediately, and you will light on 
 the os magnum. It is the third in the second row, 
 counting from the thumb, and its name sufficiently shows 
 that it is the largest of the whole. It is rounded at the 
 base, and fits easily into the scaphoid, the leader of the 
 other row, which is hollowed in the form of a boat, a 
 shape favorable to a balancing movement. Hence the 
 harsh term scaphoid, scapha being the Latin for a 
 boat. 
 
 I see that we are becoming very learned. While on this 
 subject, let us pass on to the metacarpus. 
 
 This is derived from the Greek, and, imposing as it 
 sounds, is easily explained. It simply means that which 
 is after, or which follows the carpus. 
 
 That part which is above the carpus, or the wrist, is 
 the fleshy part of the hand from whence the fingers issue. 
 You already know, I have no doubt, that the fingers 
 have three phalanges, this is the name given to their 
 division, besides you have only to look at your fingers. 
 If you ever have courage, when visiting a museum, to ex- 
 amine the hand of a skeleton, you will find no trace of 
 5 
 
98 THE ARMS AND LEGS. 
 
 what we call the palm ; but you will see extraordinarily 
 long fingers, with four instead of three phalanges, con- 
 tinuing in a straight line to the wrist. This fourth pha- 
 lange is invisible during life, being lost in muscles, and 
 enveloped in a covering of skin. It is called the met- 
 acarpus, and is simply a continuation of the fingers in the 
 thickness of the hand. I caused you just now to trace 
 the continuation of the middle finger ; do the same with 
 the others, and you will easily be convinced of the fact. 
 
 The metacarpal bones articulate with those of the 
 second row of the carpal, into the hollows of which they 
 fit easily, and as they are closely compressed at the base, 
 it follows that their movements are very limited, being 
 reduced to certain slight inflexions, which serve, however, 
 in some instances, to increase the curvature of the palm. 
 Try to hold some water in the hollow of your hand : the 
 efforts you make to prevent its running over entirely 
 proceed from the metacarpal bones, particularly from those 
 which are continuations of the fore and little finger. 
 These will be slightly raised on either side, so as to 
 form a kind of barrier to retain the water which would 
 otherwise escape. Yet you will not keep your hand long 
 in this position without discomfort. The fatigue you ex- 
 perience will teach you how little the metacarpal bones 
 care to change their usual position. 
 
 Among the five metacarpals there is one which forms 
 an exception, and this is the thumb. 
 
 I have already spoken at some length of the .thumb, 
 and the service it renders us. It was with it, if I remem- 
 ber rightly, that we commenced our history of a Mouth- 
 ful of Bread. 
 
 " Consider with respect your little thumb ; it is to its 
 three little bones covered over with a little flesh that man 
 owes part of his physical superiority to other animals." 
 
THE ARMS AND LEGS. 99 
 
 I could scarcely speak differently to a child who knew 
 nothing about metacarpal bones. Now I can say to you, 
 " it is to its three little bones," etc. In reality, the me- 
 tacarpal bone of the thumb differs from its four neighbors, 
 which are immovable columns, planted, as we may say, 
 in the wrist, having scarcely any other duty than that of 
 supporting the fingers. It is an alert and bustling agent, 
 going and coming with perfect ease, moving its two 
 phalanges from one finger to another, and all the honor 
 of the meeting reverts to it by right, for, like the other 
 phalanges, those of the thumb have no other movement 
 than of flexion forward ; all are alike unable to balance 
 themselves upon their base. Here the base is short, thick- 
 set, double the size of the others, as is necessary to a 
 wrestler, destined to keep four antagonists in order at 
 once. Instead of the articulating surface being square 
 in form like the rest of the metacarpal bones, that of the 
 thumb is slightly hollowed at the base, and rolls with 
 ease on its supporter, the carpal bone, the end of which 
 is rounded in the form of a saddle. 
 
 This is the trapezium, and now that gymnastics are so 
 much in fashion, this name will not appear strange to 
 you. On examining it narrowly, you will see that the 
 exceptional play of the thumb proceeds in reality from 
 this bone. Placed at the corner of his row, he leans for- 
 ward like a corporal advancing his body to ascertain that 
 his men are all in line. It is on this prolongation that 
 the metacarpal of the thumb is seated, thus manoeuvring on 
 another line than his comrades, the immediate contact 
 with whom would have paralysed all his movements. In 
 short, it is to the advance of the trapezium carrying the 
 thumb beyond its ranks, that this member owes its faculty, 
 so precious a one for us, of being able to face all the other 
 fingers. See how useful it is to know everything. There 
 
100 THE ARMS AND LEGS. 
 
 are also in the world many important personages 
 who cut a great figure, and whose names are in every- 
 body's mouth, but if we knew all, we should often find 
 that their great importance has its origin in some ob- 
 scure corner, about which no one ever thinks or concerns 
 himself, though in it might be found the secret of the 
 position which they occupy. 
 
 Another consequence of this arrangement is. that in 
 grasping anything tightly the efforts made by the fingers 
 are directed to the metacarpus, which acts as a resting 
 place for them, whilst the thumb seeks its point of sup- 
 port on the carpal, where its pivot is. The opposing 
 resistance being thus distributed over two different 
 places, the discomfort is lessened, and more force can be 
 employed with less fatigue. 
 
 You now know almost all I have to say about the 
 hand. For what can I teach you concerning your fin- 
 gers ? you know their various uses too well to require 
 further instruction. You see the movement of all the 
 phalanges on themselves and on the metacarpal is the 
 same ; the joints also are exactly alike. They are com- 
 posed of two surfaces, rounded in front in the direction 
 in which the finger bends with a small pad behind to 
 prevent their bending backward. Their excessive mo- 
 bility plainly shows that their hinges are well oiled, and 
 in reality their synovial membranes present a very con- 
 siderable development, worthy of being brought under 
 the notice of young ladies who play the piano, for they 
 have sometimes pieces given them to play, the correct 
 execution of which exacts a terrible outlay of synovia. 
 
 Now one last bit of information about the phalanges. 
 They are flat inside and rounded at the back. This 
 seems a trifling remark, but nothing is unimportant in 
 our machine. If the phalanges were round like a wand, 
 
THE AKMS AND LEGS. 101 
 
 small objects would- slip from our fingers ; if they were 
 lath-shaped they would be wanting in strength to resist 
 violent efforts. Lath-shaped on the side which works, 
 wand-shaped on the side which has nothing to do, they 
 can seize objects firmly and solidly, and the reason for 
 their particular conformation is so evident, that we find 
 the metacarpal phalanges, which are not intended to 
 take hold of objects, are simply wand-shaped, almost as 
 round on the inner as on the outer surface. 
 
 If you take a glance at the arm you will see that its 
 frame work is always spreading out from above down- 
 ward, gaining in mobility what it loses in solidity. First 
 a single bone, strong and massive, the humerus, which 
 is, as it were, the trunk of this tree of a new species. 
 Then the two branches, the ulna and the radius, each 
 with its peculiar movement. Then the numerous subdi- 
 visions of the hand, first condensed in the carpus in a 
 compact mass ; next less constrained, but still kept in their 
 place in the metacarpus, free at length and able to sepa- 
 rate from one another, in the fingers which represent 
 the expansion of the last branches. 
 
 I should like to know, could we condense the wood 
 of all the branches and twigs of an oak, whether the 
 amount would be the same as that contained in the trunk 
 of the tree. If so, it is precisely what is observed in the 
 case of the arm. We find the quantity of osseous or 
 bony matter, in point of measurement, to be the same 
 throughout the entire length of the arm, only in one part 
 it is condensed in order to give solidity ; in the other it 
 is divided to increase its powers of movement. Weighed 
 separately, the bones in the hand represent a fifth part 
 of the total weight of the bones of the arm. Measure 
 your hand, and you will find it will be a fifth the entire 
 length of your arm : thus out of a piece of humerus of 
 
102 THE ARMS AND LEGS. 
 
 this length, you would be able to cut the materials of 
 the two rows of carpal bones and the nineteen phalanges 
 of the five fingers, including the metacarpal bones. In 
 like manner, if the phalanges and the small bones of the 
 carpus could be melted like lead and cast in a mould, a 
 piece of humerus the length of the hand would be pro- 
 duced. But this is an operation I would recommend no 
 one to have recourse to ; we should gain nothing by it. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE. ARMS AND LEGS (Continued.) 
 
 I MUST have tired you greatly, my dear child, with 
 this humerus, ulna, radius, carpus, metacarpus, and these 
 other strange names I have been forced to bring before 
 you, and I see with horror that in coming to the leg we 
 must go over the same ground again. The history of 
 the leg is but a repetition of that of the arm ; but unfor- 
 tunately such differences exist as to render it necessary 
 to commence from the top and work downward. We 
 must consequently again travel over the same road we 
 did before. This is scarcely to be regretted, seeing that 
 the real way to know a road well is to travel it twice. 
 You will have here a remarkable example of the way in 
 which nature adapts to different uses two organs con- 
 structed from the same elements, by introducing some 
 special dispositions into each. 
 
 After closely examining the arm and leg side by side, 
 we should almost be tempted to regard the former as a 
 leg for taking hold of objects, and the latter as an arm 
 intended to walk with, each one accommodating itself as 
 much as possible to the peculiar work demanded of it. 
 When young willows are planted with the head down- 
 ward, the roots become branches and the branches roots, 
 but such a change could never take place in the members 
 of the human body, though the absence of one limb gen- 
 erally calls forth extra power on the part of the remain- 
 
 (103) 
 
104: THE ARMS AND LEGS. 
 
 ing ones, in which statement the following story will 
 bear me out : 
 
 About fifteen years ago there lived a painter in Paris, 
 who signed all his pictures " Ducornet, ne sans bras," 
 (born without arms). You need not rack your brain in 
 order to discover how he could write ; his signature was 
 made with his foot, and it was with it also, as you may 
 suppose, that his paintings were all executed. That 
 foot, however, had never trodden the ground. Deprived 
 of half his limbs, this poor child's parents were obliged 
 to choose his line of life for him, and they decided that 
 his legs must be taught to supply the place of arms. 
 Nothing more was necessary than to suppress the service 
 they were destined to perform, in order, if possible, to 
 constrain them to do the work for which nature had not 
 provided suitable members. He was wheeled from one 
 room to another, and when he went out, his father carried 
 him on his back. I met them several times in Paris on 
 the Pont des Arts, so I do not speak from hearsay ; and 
 one day I had the good fortune to see this armless artist 
 at work in his studio. Half reclining on a peculiarly 
 shaped stool, he balanced himself with ease and firmness, 
 grasped his maulstick and palette with the left great 
 toe, and with the right used his brush with perfect facil- 
 ity. If his drawings were not masterpieces, we must 
 not blame his foot ; for all painters possessed of hands 
 do not produce chefs-cTceuvre. I cannot exactly tell you 
 the anatomical changes this leg, called to other functions, 
 had undergone in the short space of a man's life, not 
 being sufficiently intimate to ask permission to examine 
 the limbs ; but upon seeing them acting, I felt convinced 
 they were no longer exactly like other men's legs. The 
 toes, at least from what we could see of them, were 
 tapered and elongated, imitating, as it were, fingers ; 
 
THE ARMS AND LEGS. 105 
 
 and I know two bones, of which I must speak presently, 
 that in other people occupy a considerable space at the 
 heel, were in this instance, probably from want of exer- 
 cise, undeveloped ; and without having examined the 
 foot, I dare almost venture to assert that these two 
 bones nearly approached the modest proportions of the 
 small bones of the wrist.* This story concluded, let us 
 hasten to finish the history of these bones, for I imagine 
 you are beginning to tire of it. Fortunately, we are 
 nearly through with it. 
 
 The leg, I have said, is a repetition of the arm. You 
 must then expect to find in it all you met with in the 
 arm, only in a much more solid form. 
 
 First, I shall commence with the foundation on which 
 it may be said to rest, and this we cannot expect to find 
 movable as is the shoulder, scapula, which changes posi- 
 tion with each movement of the arm. Mobility in this 
 bone would render the gait undecided, and you would 
 be exposed to falls when you attempted to run. Here 
 the base is the hip-bone, which of course you must know ; 
 it rests on either side against the vertebral column, just 
 at the point where this latter is most solid, and where 
 the vertebras are firmly joined together to form the 
 massive sacrum, which I hope you have not yet forgotten. 
 All is here immovable, and we have, as soldiers say, a 
 solid base of operation. 
 
 In the thickness of the haunch we find two cavities 
 similar to those we remarked, when speaking of the 
 arm, as receiving the head of the humerus, but much 
 
 * Ducornet is not a solitary instance on record. Only recently the 
 papers spoke of a young Belgian painter who was born without 
 arms, Mr. Charles Fein. His paintings were last year exhibited in 
 Paris with great success. When seated, he is said to use his feet 
 with as much ease as other people do their hands. 
 
 5* 
 
106 THE ARMS AND LEGS. 
 
 deeper, so that the ball with which the femur termin- 
 ates is almost completely embraced. Femur is the name 
 given by the Latins to the thigh bone, the largest and 
 heaviest of all the bones in the human body ; so large 
 and so heavy that in taking up a femur one would ima- 
 gine it to be a club. This is not an original idea. 
 Travellers in uncivilized countries have more than once 
 seen warriors with these 'natural clubs at their waists 
 weapons borrowed from death to produce death. This 
 might be cited a one of man's most horrid inventions, 
 for it evidently belongs to the infancy of the art of war ; 
 we certainly tower far above these savage nations, with 
 our newly-invented cannons of to-day. 
 
 The femur is not placed in direct line under the hol- 
 lowed cavity of the hip. Its upper extremity is two or 
 three inches further outward, but is joined to it by means 
 of a sort of elbow which supports the terminating ball, 
 and is called the neck of the femur. 
 
 If you wish to form an idea of the appearance of this 
 joint, just imagine the wax model of a foot with a high 
 instep, and all the toes rolled up like a ball. This com- 
 parison came into my mind whilst I was looking at the 
 profile of the femur I have before me, turned upside 
 down and resting on its upper extremity. In this posi- 
 tion the neck of the femur-pretty nearly represents what 
 is called the instep, the ankle may also be found there, 
 represented by a large projection, one of those apophyses 
 of which I have so often spoken to you, to which one of 
 the tendons is attached which puts the femur in move- 
 ment. As to the heel ! here I own the resemblance is 
 less striking. It is more hollowed and bent inward 
 than we find in the actual heel. You must imagine the 
 thumb to have dealt a blow in the wax so as visibly to 
 lengthen it. This elongation forms another apophysis 
 
THE ARMS AND LEGS. 107 
 
 large and flat, to which are attached certain tendons 
 and muscles of the femur. Are you anxious to hear the 
 name of these two apophyses ? One answers for both ; 
 this is rather curious, but never mind. The ankle is 
 called the small, and the heel the large trochanter. 
 Here, however, my modicum of learning is at fault. I 
 have searched in vain to discover the meaning of this 
 word, and can nowhere find what it signifies. If you 
 meet with any medical man able to tell you, I shall be 
 very glad. 
 
 The femur increases in size as it approaches the knee, 
 of which it occupies the whole width. Just feel, and 
 you will see how large a projection it makes at this 
 part, and if you move your leg whilst holding your knee 
 tightly between your fingers, you will easily understand 
 the play of the joint. There are two large bones of 
 almost equal size, rolling 'one upon the other backward 
 and forward, nothing interfering with this movement 
 except the muscles of the thigh and of the calf of the 
 leg. If the leg be bent too far, these bones strike 
 against each other, without which the heel might be 
 bent to touch the neck of the femur, as it naturally does 
 in the leg of a skeleton which we can fold in two. 
 
 You remember the olecranon, that point of the ulna 
 which at the elbow enters into a hollow in the humerus, 
 and forms an invincible obstacle to the arm being 
 thrown backward. Its counterpart is not found in the 
 leg, yet the leg cannot be bent forward. There is an 
 obstacle quite as serious as the bony point in the arm, 
 nay, even more so, for it is less liable to be broken. Put 
 your hand to the hollow of your knee you will feel 
 something like cords which you would almost mistake 
 for bones when they stiffen. These are the tendons of 
 which I was just speaking, and if you stretch your log 
 
108 THE ABMS AND LEGS. 
 
 forcibly, you will easily perceive that you must break 
 them to make it go farther. Now the tendons are cords 
 which do not break so easily as our hempen ones, and 
 what is held by them is perfectly secured and may be 
 trusted to. There are also very s.trong ligaments round 
 the joint, which, when required, oppose all irregular 
 movement, and the articulating surfaces of the two 
 bones are arranged so as to prevent any gliding in an 
 unnatural way, or from side to side. 
 
 I shall now pass on to the great curiosity of the knee 
 the patella, or knee-pan. The name is familiar to most 
 persons, but few are acquainted with its history. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE ARMS AND LEGS (Continued.) 
 
 THE patella is not a bone like the other bones and 
 we shall find in it some features entirely new. First, 
 let us see how it is formed, and where it is placed. 
 
 It is a flat body almost oval in shape, and may be 
 compared to a small flattened heart, but owing to the 
 folds in which it is partly concealed, the shape is dif- 
 ficult to trace with the finger, especially at its lower 
 part, where its apex is. It is situated in front of the 
 knee joint, and follows the movement of the bone of 
 the leg, against which it presses as the leg bends. This 
 bone is of valuable assistance to us when we kneel, sus- 
 taining as it does, when in this position, the weight of 
 the body, to which it furnishes a larger and more regular 
 or uniform point of support than the bony projections 
 situated beneath it could do. When you were quite 
 little you had no patella at your birth you had not 
 even a trace of one. This is, by the way, one of the 
 reasons why little children have so much difficulty in 
 kneeling. The patella, it is true, makes its appearance 
 like all the rest of the bones under a cartilaginous form, 
 differing, as I shall explain, from other cartilages. I 
 shall in passing give you some details which have not 
 hitherto been comprised in the general description of 
 the bones of 'a skeleton. 
 
 When we together examined the way in which the 
 same blood nourishes so many different organs, assigning 
 
 (109) 
 
110 THE ARMS AND LEGS. 
 
 to each exactly what it requires, I told you what hap- 
 pens to old people whose bones, laden with phosphate of 
 lime, do not readily take up any more. The blood, not 
 knowing what to do with the phosphate of lime it con- 
 tains, deposits it as best it can among the muscles and on 
 the arteries, until at length they become ossified, and 
 death of the tissues ensues, their natural functions being 
 destroyed. 
 
 What may here be considered an accident and the 
 forerunner of death, is a natural process in the early 
 stages of life among some of the articular ligaments and 
 tendons. I must now, for once, anticipate a little, and 
 tell you what is really meant by a tendon, after which I 
 shall return to my subject. 
 
 The tendons are a species of whitish cord, by which 
 muscles are terminated. They are attached to bones 
 which they set in movement. In themselves inert, and 
 devoid, like their fellows the ligaments, of all sensibility 
 except when they are tormented, the tendons are in 
 reality nothing but bundles of thread, or fibres, to use 
 the scientific expression. They belong to what anato- 
 mists call the fibrous system, a word which is not new to 
 you, since we spoke of fibrous capsules, and their duty is 
 a passive one. The fibrous organs, which we find every- 
 where associated with the bones, seem to a certain ex- 
 tent to partake of the life of these latter, and form a 
 group with them. Is sympathy of neighborhood the 
 cause of this ? This, I dare not assert ; but certain it is, 
 that both are greedy of the phosphate of lime, and readily 
 absorb it as it passes, through sheer gluttony, as far as 
 we can judge, for this material has nothing to do there, 
 nothing at least that we can understand. The result of 
 this is the appearance of a number of little bones smug- 
 gled in as it were, and which we all at once find taste- 
 
THE ARMS AND LEGS. Ill 
 
 fully lodged in the thickness of the fibres, and to which 
 has been given the name sesamoids. 
 
 You remember the pisiforme in the wrist, so named 
 from the resemblance it bears to a pea. The sesamoid 
 bones take their name from their resemblance to the 
 seeds of the sesamum indicum, a small grain of the form 
 of an egg from which oil is extracted. I conclude from 
 this that they must have nearly this shape ; as they do 
 not form a part of our bony structure, they are not to 
 be seen in the skeleton. They appear in early life, and 
 continue gradually increasing in proportion as years 
 pass on. Some, however, like wisdom-teeth, only appear 
 at twenty to thirty, or even forty years of age. Nothing 
 is so capricious as the formation of the sesamoids. They 
 never venture into the trunk, having a partiality for the 
 articular ligaments of the fingers and toes. In the 
 thumb, two are to be found in the ligament which at- 
 taches it to the metacarpus, and they are also found in 
 the great toe, but for the other fingers and toes there .is 
 no rule. Sometimes they are only to be found in the 
 articulations of the metacarpus, and sometimes we do 
 not find them there ; at other times they slip into the 
 joints of the phalanges. It is all chance, like the shape 
 of your nose or the color of your eyes. Chance, do I 
 say ? certainly there is a reason for this if we did but 
 know it. Bichat having observed a great development 
 of sesamoids on the feet of persons suffering from gout, 
 modestly supposes that there may be some connexion 
 between these little bony formations and the capricious 
 malady which often puzzles the doctor as much as it 
 causes suffering to the patient. Admitting this supposi- 
 tion, we should require to ascertain whether the devel- 
 opment of the sesamoid produces gout, or whether gout 
 produces the development of the sesamoids. 
 
112 THE ARMS AND LEGS. 
 
 You do not guess, perhaps, why I have run away from 
 my subject to give you this history of the sesamoids, of 
 which no one ever speaks ; well, it is simply because the 
 patella is nothing more than a sesamoid. Queen of the 
 band, it is true, not only on account of its size, but for 
 its known utility ; yet in spite of its notoriety, it is no 
 less the offspring of the fibrous system, an illegitimate 
 bone like its kindred. This explains a great anomaly, 
 the only one you have as yet met with, of an articulation 
 formed by the meeting or play of three bones all in 
 movement at one time ; elsewhere we only find two in 
 the formation of a simple joint. The cause of the ano- 
 maly is, that in the knee joint one of the three bones is a 
 smuggled one, if I may be allowed to use this expression, 
 which I have already employed. Those who arrange 
 skeletons are obliged, on account of its importance, to 
 preserve this bone in its proper place, but this can only 
 be done by fixing it to the end of a metal band, for it 
 is not attached to, nor does it form any part of, the bony 
 fabric. 
 
 The knee is another place of predilection for these 
 fantastic bones engendered by the fibrous tissues ; so 
 partial are they to it as to forget their capricious humor, 
 and are invariably found stationary at either side of the 
 femur, and in the tendons passing behind in the hollow 
 of the knee. Lastly, the patella never fails to display 
 itself in the middle of the tendon of the quadriceps ex- 
 tensor of the thigh. Wait patiently, and I will explain 
 this word. 
 
 I told you that the primitive cartilage of the patella 
 is not formed like other cartilages. The fibres of the 
 tendon which serve as its basis continue through the 
 gelatinous tissue, and may easily be distinguished on 
 the bone, fully formed, when its phosphate of lime is dis- 
 
THE ARMS AND LEGS. 113 
 
 solved in acid, which, as you already know, can easily be 
 done. 
 
 We have spent a long time over the patella, but I 
 could not allow this opportunity to escape of teaching 
 you a little mystery hidden in the depths of our organs, 
 the existence of which few except the learned are aware 
 of, and they only mention it without commenting upon 
 its peculiarity. 
 
 Should you ever have imagined the patella had a dif- 
 ferent origin from other bones ? Well known as it is, 
 its celebrity should have brought the obscure class to 
 which it belongs into notice. As yet so far from this 
 being the case, you will see persons look surprised if 
 you begin to talk of sesamoids. In the same way an 
 upstart often makes a great stir in the world without' 
 any one inquiring into his origin, without the smallest 
 ray of his success being reflected on the home of his 
 family. 
 
 Enough of all this ; now let us return to the arms and 
 legs. 
 
 After the knee conies the leg corresponding to the 
 forearm. To be consistent we should say the foreleg, 
 and call the part where the femur is, the leg, because we 
 called its corresponding bone where the humerus is, the 
 arm. But we will leave things as they are ; we should 
 have too much to do if we found fault with all incon- 
 sistencies of speech, to say nothing of other inconsisten- 
 cies. 
 
 I have already informed you that the leg, of course I 
 mean the entire leg, is a repetition of the arm. You 
 ought, therefore, to be prepared to expect the two cor- 
 responding bones of the forearm in this second part, and 
 so you will find them ; but as the foot does not turn on 
 itself, as the hand does, it would be unfortunate if it did 
 
114 THE AEMS AND LEGS. 
 
 so, the bone which in the leg corresponds to the radius 
 in the arm, on the inner side of the member, on a line 
 with the great toe, this bone articulates at once with the 
 femur above and with the foot below. It does all the 
 work by itself, to be sure that it is properly done, and 
 consequently monopolises all the nourishment which the 
 blood distributes so equally between the two workers of 
 the forearm. He who does not work should not eat. 
 This is a law which ought to be easily understood by 
 man, inasmuch as it is rigidly observed in his own sys- 
 tem. 
 
 This monopolist, almost as massive as the femur, is 
 called the tibia ; a pretty name, with an unpleasant asso- 
 ciation. Tibia is the Latin for a flute ; the existence of 
 'the word shows that if our early warriors used femurs as 
 clubs, the flutes of ancient musicians were as certainly 
 made of tibias. Jesters sometimes speak of a man's 
 flutes, implying that his legs are only skin and bone. 
 You will now understand the origin of the joke if ever 
 you hear it. 
 
 The tibia's disinherited companion is called the fibula. 
 I do not know whence derived, but that is of no conse- 
 quence. The bone thus designated is only a long slen- 
 der wand fixed solidly at its two extremities ; at one 
 end to the first bone of the foot, and at the other to the 
 tibia, by the side of which it seems to play the inglorious 
 part assigned by the proverb to the fifth wheel of a car- 
 riage ; only the proverb is not fully realised here, since 
 the fibula furnishes points of attachment for the muscles 
 forming the calf of the leg, and thus it is so far useful. 
 The fibula may, however be dispensed with, as in serious 
 cases surgeons have been known to cut out the centre of 
 it without the tibia being interrupted in its work. So 
 if you ever hear people speak of any one walking with 
 
THE ARMS AND LEGS. 115 
 
 a broken leg, you may be sure it is only the fibula which 
 has been broken. A broken tibia prostrates a man as 
 effectually as a broken spring obliges the carriage to 
 which it belongs to discontinue its progress. 
 
 At this moment they are building me a beautiful class- 
 room, in which it will be quite a pleasure to enact the 
 professor. You can understand how interested I am in 
 its progress, and that I often go and watch the carpen- 
 ters at their work. I noticed how they set about uniting 
 two beams ; in the one they hollowed a deep groove, 
 called a mortise, and in the other they cut a tenon ; that 
 is, a square projection exactly fitting into the mortise ; 
 joined in this way, the two beams formed but one, and 
 so the leg is fastened on to the foot. 
 
 You know the two ankle bones ; they are like two 
 walls of the mortise, hollowed in the extremity of the 
 tibia, which forms the inner ankle. The outer one is 
 the extremity of the fibula, which is here invaluable 
 to the tibia, and completes the closing of the mortise. 
 Between the two bones of the ankle, a bone of the 
 foot, the name of which I hope you will not forget, 
 squares like a tenon. This bone is called astragalus. 
 The square ornaments of cornices are called astragals, 
 so you see we are still on the subject of architecture. 
 
 The astragalus placed immediately over the mortise 
 of the tibia, between the walls of which it is held as if 
 by pincers, receives all the weight of the body in a 
 straight line, and transmits it to its comrade below, 
 called the calcaneum ; or, to give you the translation, 
 the heel bone. 
 
 These two bones form the foundation which supports 
 the entire edifice, and you will not be astonished to 
 learn, that their size is considerably greater than that 
 of the little bones of the carpus, the corresponding 
 
116 THE ARMS AND LEGS. 
 
 bones in the hand. We now come to what we may call 
 the carpus of the foot ; but the name of the bones 
 changes as well as their dimensions, and the carpus 
 takes the name tarsus when applied to the foot. 
 
 The tarsus also has its two rows of bones closely 
 packed together, but they do not go in sets of four, as 
 at the wrist. The first row is composed of the astra- 
 galus and calcaneum, which two are certainly equal to 
 the four carpal. The second row comprises five small 
 bones, the names of which I shall not trouble you with. 
 Next come the small columns of metatarsals, a faithful 
 reproduction of the metacarpals, with the same number 
 of phalanges as in the fingers ; two for the large toe, 
 and three for each of the others. But here the resem- 
 blance ceases. First there is this great difference, which 
 you must be aware of : the great toe is placed on the 
 same line as its small companions, with whom it cannot 
 come in contact. Next these latter, having no work to 
 perform, their phalanges, by virtue of that law that 
 metes out food according to labor done, are so ill-fed 
 that they are almost reduced to nothing. The blood 
 reserves all its nourishment for the first row of the 
 tarsus, which has so great a weight to bear ; and for 
 this reason : When speaking to you at the beginning of 
 this chapter about the foot of the painter born without 
 arms, where the duties of the arms had to be performed 
 by the legs, I said that there were two bones in his feet 
 very different in volume to those we find in the feet of 
 other men. These two bones you now see were the 
 astragalus and the calcaneum. Not put to any work, 
 as they had not the weight of the body to support, the 
 blood in all probability had given them half rations, in 
 order to benefit the toes which worked the brush, and 
 which, by dint of use, were positively elongated. 
 
THE ARMS AND LEGS. 117 
 
 I hope you will not be offended at the advice I am 
 going to give you. It is nice to have a neat little foot, 
 and if every one went barefoot, the foot, like the nose, 
 would quietly keep the shape given it by nature. Un- 
 happily shoes are worn, so the shoe and not the foot is 
 visible. The object then is to have a pretty little shoe ; 
 whence it follows that in choosing the envelope, we do 
 not pay sufficient attention to what we are going to put 
 within it. When the bones arc pretty well developed, 
 this little suffering we inflict on ourselves passes off 
 when we get our feet into slippers. You will remember 
 however, what I said about the cartilaginous condition 
 of the bones in early youth, and how they do not be- 
 come solid until later in life. The Chinese take advan- 
 tage of this soft state of the bones to such' an extent 
 that they render the women incapable of walking. They 
 actually envelop the feet of their infant female children 
 in close-fitting iron boots, pushing back the still soft 
 phalanges of the toes and metatarsus upon the tarsus, 
 converting them into shrivelled stumps which are any- 
 thing but pretty, at least to our taste. You must think 
 of this if you should ever be tempted whilst young to 
 wear too tight shoes. Never expose yourself for the 
 sake of having the leather and prunella covering ad- 
 mired, to deform and destroy what it contains. In 
 riches, in mind, in probity, in beauty, in all and every- 
 thing, to be and to appear to be, are two rivals, which 
 dispute the mastery in this world, and people are best 
 judged according to the choice they make between 
 the two. 
 
 One last observation on the shape of the foot before 
 bidding adieu to the skeleton, whose name will, I imagine 
 no longer awaken in you that disagreeable feeling of 
 terror usual in ignorant people. 
 
118 THE ARMS AND LEGS. 
 
 The calcaneum comes very low down behind, where 
 it touches the ground ; it then ascends to the height of 
 the second row of bones, which itself is on an incline. 
 The whole forms a species of arch, the summit of which 
 is the highest part of the instep, just where the phalanges 
 of the metatarsus begin. From this point the phalanges 
 continue, the arch falling with a gentle slope toward 
 the toes, and at this point of junction of the two, that 
 is, where the phalanges and toes meet, a well-formed foot 
 again touches the ground. The nerves, muscles, and 
 blood-vessels of the sole of the foot are sheltered in the 
 hollow of this arch ; they thus escape the pressure of 
 the weight of the body, a great advantage in long 
 marches, where pressure might after a time irritate 
 them and produce inflammation. 
 
 For this reason conscripts whose feet are too flat are 
 refused by the military board of examination ; it is as- 
 sumed they cannot undergo the fatigues of a long march. 
 The supposition is a reasonable one, but must not always 
 be taken for granted, for I know a capital walker, who, 
 in consequence of this defect, would never have been 
 accepted in any regiment. Nature has resources un- 
 known to us, and thanks to them, she is often enabled to 
 counteract the apparent imperfections of her work. 
 
 For a stronger reason would I distrust the old saying 
 that a flat foot betokens a dull mind ; it would, indeed, 
 be hard on some good people always to believe this to 
 be the case. What a thing it would be if moral worth 
 were measured by this rule. A great man's character 
 would be at the mercy of his shoemaker ! 
 
 But here let us take leave of this question, and pro- 
 ceed to discuss the muscles, which have long been await- 
 ing their turn. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE MUSCLES. 
 
 WHEN the shell of a house is completed the best half 
 of the work is done ; ask any mason and he will tell 
 you that I am right. Do not regret the time we have 
 spent over ours, nor any weariness it may have caused 
 you, for, between ourselves, I could never have under- 
 taken, during this somewhat monotonous journey through 
 the human structure, to make it always amusing to you. 
 I have done what I could to render it so, and have been 
 reproached with taking too much trouble to make the 
 road an easy one, under the belief that to study how to 
 impart knowledge by saving children all possible trouble 
 and hard work is calculated to do them more harm than 
 good. In this my severe critic is right, I will not deny 
 it, but even that need not affect me much. Whatever 
 my efforts may have been, sufficient will always remain 
 for you to do in order thoroughly to understand what I 
 have undertaken to explain. 
 
 The best way I know of to make a child use its brain 
 in good earnest, is to interest it ; in other words, to 
 amuse it. The most fatal enemy to mental exertion is 
 ennui, for the simple reason that it benumbs the faculties 
 of the mind. Certainly it is no fault of mine if I have 
 not been more amusing while giving you this intermin- 
 able history of the bones, seeing that the ghastly com- 
 panion which I selected to render the subject more in- 
 telligible made me grave in spite of myself. There is 
 
 (119) 
 
120 THE MUSCLES. 
 
 not much in a skeleton to induce mirth ; calmly as one 
 may admire the very wonderful structure of the human 
 frame, our natural dislike to the presence of death is apt 
 to awe the strongest of us. 
 
 But here, with muscles we re-enter on life, and so we 
 can prattle at our ease. 
 
 The muscles form a large battalion in the army of the 
 artisans of the stomach. They compose what is called 
 the flesh, that is to say, the principal part of the body, 
 and their business is the same as that of the common peo- 
 ple, who form the chief part of the social body. They 
 undertake the heavy work. In the great buisness of 
 walking, which the brain directs, they are the laborers, 
 and the bones are only tools by means of which the mus- 
 cles execute their work. 
 
 Hence the particular name of the locomotive given to 
 each of these two divisions. Do not be alarmed at this 
 expression, it simply means that which serves to move 
 about. The railway locomotives will suffice, if necessary, 
 to explain this to you. 
 
 I suppose you know enough of grammar to know the 
 difference between an active and a passive verb. From this 
 you will at once understand why our muscles, our laborers, 
 are called active locomotive, and our bones, their tools, 
 passive locomotive. The muscle moves the bone ; the 
 bone is moved by the muscle. It is easy to ascertain 
 when we walk which of the two bodies lays claim to 
 the honor of the action. 
 
 We were just now speaking of the social body, I will 
 therefore point out to you that it also has a double 
 locomotive apparatus^ the active and the passive ; the 
 courageous elite which gives the impulse, the inert mass 
 which receives it. Without inviting you later in life to 
 join in political battles, which God forbid, let me advise 
 
THE MUSCLES. 121 
 
 you in passing to be prepared before-hand to take your 
 stand among the more honorable, that is the elite, of 
 these two bodies. 
 
 You may shed a wholesome influence around you 
 without making a great noise. Look at the muscles, 
 does any one hear them? What progress, apparently 
 impossible, might be accomplished without any visible 
 effort were women only to play the part of muscles, and 
 quietly help the world in its onward course ! 
 
 Forgive me,, my child, if I have forgotten what you are, 
 by allowing myself to be carried away with the thought 
 of what you may one day become. Meanwhile, as you 
 are learning to imitate the conduct of the muscles and 
 act as they do, let us quietly consider what a muscle 
 really is and what it does. 
 
 T cannot do better than compare a muscle to a quantity 
 of small skeins of thread compressed into packets, which 
 are always subdividing until they become elementary 
 threads, a thousand times finer than the finest hair on 
 your head. Seen through a microscope, these threads, 
 or rather fibres, to give them their proper name, look 
 like a kind of rosary, the beads of which, placed at cer- 
 tain distances from one another, alternately shorten or 
 lengthen the fibre, according as they approach each other 
 or retain their original position. 
 
 Here, then we have a very simple piece of mechanism, 
 have we not ? nevertheless it suffices for every move- 
 ment in the animal world, from the crawling of a worm to 
 the leap of a race-horse, including even the gambols of 
 young ladies of twelve years of age, during their hours 
 of recreation. It is simply a contraction of the mus- 
 cular fibre which lengthens out to contract again, and as 
 it contracts draws to it what has to be- displaced. Can 
 you imagine anything more simple ? 
 6 
 
122 THE MUSCLES. 
 
 What is less easy to imagine is the why and the where- 
 fore of this happy power of contraction, without which 
 man and beast would be fixed to one spot, as if they were 
 inert or inorganic bodies. 
 
 The why and the wherefore, do you ask? What a 
 question ! I have only to will it, and my arms and legs 
 move of themselves. See whether it is not so ; it was 
 my will that directed it. 
 
 Assuredly, my little princess, things being as they are, 
 you have but to will and you are obeyed. It is necessary, 
 however, that you should know that if any accident be- 
 fall certain nerves which proceed from the vertebral col- 
 umn on either side of the last vertebra of the neck, you 
 may order your arms to move as much as you like, they 
 will pay no attention to the command, and you will 
 then see whether your will manages all. Know also, that 
 if without touching your nerves some savant more curious 
 than his fellows who are in the habit of experimenting on 
 animals, should take it into his head, and have the power, 
 to fill the arteries of your legs with water, no further 
 orders you might give to the muscles in that part would 
 be listened to ; your will would be as nothing to them. 
 By and by, when we come to the nerves, I shall enlarge 
 on that mysterious power which slumbers in the muscles, 
 ever ready to awaken at the command of the brain, when 
 its auxiliaries are at their post, and which, at a given 
 moment, brings together the beads of the muscular rosary, 
 and then suddenly disappearing leaves them to them- 
 selves. At present it suffices to mention the fact, another 
 time I will explain it as best I can. 
 
 Thus at the slightest movement agreeably to your wishes, 
 you create a commotion along the whole line among a 
 myriad of little beings, each of which suddenly embraces 
 its neighbor. It is only in this way that you reign queen 
 
THE MUSCLES. 123 
 
 in the kingdom of muscles, in compelling your subjects 
 to love each other, and for my part, if I had to choose, I 
 would desire no other royalty. 
 
 However, upon closer examination, this style of gov- 
 erning is somewhat inconvenient as regards action. The 
 muscle acting only upon the part it is deputed to 
 put in motion, by drawing its little friends closer to 
 each other gives a power, acting in one direction viz. , 
 that implied in shortening of the muscle, or contraction, 
 which is the proper expression. You will now be puzzled 
 to explain how accordion players can conform to the 
 programme of their music. How can they both pull and 
 push, the one action being the reverse of the other, if the 
 muscles are only capable of contraction ? I must relieve 
 you of your perplexity, indeed I am obliged to do so, for 
 this is just a case in point with the peculiar arrangement 
 found in the entire muscular kingdom. 
 
 Europeans when they arrive in India, are very much 
 put about unless they be disposed to wait upon them- 
 selves. In our country a small family may manage very 
 well with one servant, but in India, each servant has his 
 own department, one cooks, another sweeps, another 
 brushes clothes, a fourth washes dishes, and so on ; if the 
 master smokes, he requires a servant to carry his pipe, 
 and on no account would he carry anything else. 
 
 This is exactly the case with the muscles ; there is no 
 occasion to inquire how they would succeed with double 
 work ; they are only upper servants undertaking but one 
 duty. Do you wish to bend your leg? a special muscle 
 at once draws the tibia toward it and carries it backward. 
 Do you wish to straighten your leg? another muscle 
 has immediate orders to bring the tibia to the front by 
 drawing it toward itself. The process is exactly the 
 same only applied in a contrary direction. 
 
124 THE MUSCLES. 
 
 Imagine me standing in front of you, face to face, with 
 some one else at your back, each of us laying a hand on 
 your shoulder. I oblige you to bend forward, by pulling 
 you toward me, but I need not push you back to your place 
 to make you stand erect, it devolves upon the other 
 hand to accomplish this by pulling you toward it. Our 
 bones then are placed between rival powers, antagonists, 
 according to the term here given, which oblige them to 
 move each in its turn. According to this arrangement, 
 when one muscle works, another rests ; a fortunate 
 circumstance for us, as they are short-winded workmen, 
 and require to rest every moment. If the same muscles 
 were constantly in motion whilst we are walking, it 
 would be impossible to take fifty steps in succession. 
 Without entering upon a series of explanations, I will 
 only ask you to hold your leg firmly extended six inches 
 from the ground. You can sit down if you desire to be 
 more at your ease. This does not appear difficult, but 
 as in this posture the muscles cannot relieve one 
 another, I am quite sure that in less than five minutes 
 you will be tired enough. 
 
 These are the extensors of the leg mentioned during 
 our study of the patella, and they will beg to be spared 
 the little experiment I have just proposed to you. Their 
 duty sufficiently explains their name, which is to stretch 
 or extend the leg. 
 
 Their antagonists enabling it to bend are called flexors, 
 and to these muscles we are in reality indebted for the 
 power of kneeling. 
 
 The muscles are classed in categories named in accord- 
 ance with their functions. There are, for instance, the 
 levators, which raise ; the depressors, which draw down- 
 ward, two antagonistic classes, as you can easily 
 imagine ; the rotators, (rota, a wheel,) which turn ; the 
 
THE MUSCLES. 125 
 
 abductors, (ducere ab>) to move from ; the adductor, (ducere 
 ad,) to draw inward, and others besides ; and to each in- 
 dividual muscle of each different class a special name has 
 been given. There are extensors, flexors, etc., on all 
 sides, so it was necessary to name them in order to re- 
 cognise them. I leave you -to think what would become 
 of us if we were to review the muscles as we did the 
 bones. 
 
 We must follow the example of visitors to a ship- 
 building yard, who inform themselves minutely of what- 
 ever concerns the tools, without inquiring the names of 
 the workmen. The individual on whom the duty of ex- 
 plaining the various departments devolves simply ob- 
 serves to the visitors, " These are the fitters," " those the 
 turners," etc., etc., particularising the work assigned to 
 the men, irrespective of their being called James, Peter, 
 John, etc., information only regarding the work done by 
 them being of service to the inquirers. 
 
 You will readily agree it was not wrong in this in- 
 stance to think less of the men than of the instruments 
 they were using. In the same way, then, do not think 
 because I do not enter into details as to the names of the 
 different muscles, that they rank below the bones. They 
 are organs of a very superior order, but are so numerous, 
 what else can I do ? Besides, a workman's history is in 
 his work, so interesting a one that he seeks no* other. 
 With those persons who do nothing, it is necessary to 
 talk about themselves, seeing there is nothing else to 
 talk about. 
 
CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 THE MUSCLES (Continued.) 
 
 THERE are some people so exclusive that they are 
 averse to anything like contact with those in the lower 
 ranks of life. When they require the services of the 
 latter, they give their orders through the medium of 
 other parties, who, though belonging to the lower orders 
 of society, manage to insinuate themselves into the fash- 
 ionable world, which they govern by transacting its 
 affairs. 
 
 The muscles belong to this class of exclusives. Be- 
 tween their restless flesh and the inert phosphate of 
 the bones, the bond of connexion is established through 
 the medium of a third class of agents, who fraternise on 
 the one hand with the bony masses, and on the other slip 
 in among the bands of muscular fibres, of which they are 
 at once the protectors and the agents. 
 
 These intermediate agents are the fibrous organs. 
 
 To each muscular fibre a fibre of an inferior kind is 
 attached, which is incapable either of contraction or 
 extension, and which, intermingling with the neighbor- 
 ing fibres of the same class, forms a kind of tough web, 
 enveloping the interior divisions of the muscle, as well 
 as the muscle itself. This web is called the aponeurosis. 
 Neuron is the Greek for nerve. This word is still pre- 
 served in the Greek, I don't know why ; it remains there 
 as the representative of an old error at which we have 
 already laughed once. 
 (126) 
 
THE MXJSCLES. 127 
 
 You will not have forgotten the little dictionary I told 
 you of the other day, which defined tirant as yellow nerve. 
 It was only the echo of the belief which catalogued, once 
 upon a time, all the fibrous organs in the category of 
 nerves, and it is, thanks to this belief, now discredited, 
 that we still give the name of nerves of beef to the tresses 
 which are found among the tendons of beef. 
 
 The aponeuroses, though they have nothing in com- 
 mon with the nerves, are nevertheless exceedingly use- 
 ful to the muscles, whose fibres they keep in their proper 
 places. Without these strict guardians, the little bun- 
 dles of fibres of which the muscle is formed would be- 
 come deranged at each contraction, just as the threads 
 of a skein would which you might try to wind without 
 its being held. But profit does not always result from 
 being too well guarded. A government in which the 
 power is too absolute becomes wearisome to a people 
 fired by the love of liberty ; and so the aponeuroses, 
 which never yield, cruelly oppress the muscles when the 
 latter become inflamed. 
 
 Instances of this kind are often met with in tern 
 porary hospitals organised for the wounded after an 
 engagement. Nature only knows one way of repairing 
 the injury man does to his fellow : this is by letting the 
 blood flow in quantity through the severed flesh and 
 gun-shot wounds, and allowing it to accumulate in the 
 injured parts. This valuable steward, the blood, has 
 plenty to do at these times. To rebuild the breaches, 
 to clear away the materials so brutally destroyed, to 
 cause to re-enter into the torrent of the circulation, as 
 we say, the liquids which, escaping from their broken 
 or ruptured canals, have spread themselves among the 
 tissues where they cause irritation all this is no ordi- 
 nary work, and whilst it lasts requires the repairing 
 
128 THE MUSCLES. 
 
 agent to bring all his powers to bear in the theatre of 
 action. The muscle gorged with blood endeavors to 
 swell, but the inflexible aponeurosis imprisons it on all 
 sides, and stops it in its attempt It is the same as with 
 these little feet of which we spoke, when compressed 
 into a still smaller shoe, only in the former case the 
 poor wounded man's sufferings soon become so excruciat- 
 ing that relief can only be obtained by cutting the web. 
 This is called incising or unbridling a wound. In fact, 
 the only remedy is to slacken the rein for the fiery 
 muscles, which eagerly cry out for more space. The 
 alternative is rather violent, and astonished me the first 
 time I saw it resorted to ; but if such means were not 
 had recourse to, gangrene would appear in the muscle 
 I will explain why another time and death of the 
 entire body would be the result of the obstinacy of a 
 stupid piece of web, which could not accommodate itself 
 to circumstances. 
 
 You must, however, hear both sides. This inflexibility 
 of the intermedial fibre, so dangerous in extreme cases, 
 has also its valuable properties. The fibrous organ not 
 only prevents the muscle from straying, but is further 
 commissioned, and this is its main function, to compel it 
 to obey its orders. Now, if it were elastic, if it could 
 elongate itself under the traction of the muscle, it would 
 expend a considerable amount of its strength, which 
 would in no way assist the movement, and the bone 
 would but half obey the injunctions of its lord and 
 master. The inexorable rigidity of this intermediate 
 agent obliges the bone to yield in exact proportion to 
 the contraction of the muscle. So we sometimes find 
 troublesome servants are in the end the most useful 
 to us. 
 
 Now, let us consider by what authority this agent of 
 
THE MUSCLES. 129 
 
 the muscle exercises control over this rude vassal, whom 
 he causes to march at his bidding. 
 
 You know all about the periosteum, the membrane 
 covering the bones, and incorporating itself with them 
 on such good terms that, as we have already observed, 
 it furnishes them with a series of external layers as fast 
 as the old ones disappear from the interior. The perios- 
 teum is also a fibrous organ, and so when the fibrous 
 organ of the muscle reaches the bone, it finds a com- 
 panion ready to bid it welcome ; the two unite their 
 fibres at the point of attachment, and owing to this 
 union of their servants, if I may be excused the term, 
 muscle and bone are at last connected in spite of their 
 diverse natures. 
 
 These attachments are effected in several ways. Some- 
 times by a web, an aponeurosis lodging itself in its 
 entire breadth within a groove of the bone. Sometimes 
 the fibres disperse, and fix themselves singly on the peri- 
 osteum, like threads of velvet upon the woof ; and some- 
 times they all unite in one bundle, forming long cords, 
 which we already know, called tendons. 
 
 The muscles presiding over the chief movements of 
 the limbs are generally attached to the aponeuroses 
 above, and by tendons below, and I am about to tell 
 you why. 
 
 I need not explain to you, that in order to draw any- 
 thing toward you, you must yourself have a foundation 
 to rest upon. The general foundation of the body is 
 the vertebral column which forms the centre, and the 
 different parts of the members of the body leaning one 
 against the other, proceeding from the extremities to- 
 ward the trunk ; it follows that the muscles moving the 
 hand are fixed to the forearm, those moving the forearm 
 are fixed to the arm, those moving the arm are planted 
 
130 THE MUSCLES. 
 
 in the shoulder-bone. It is quite natural, then, that the 
 attachments should become larger at the points where 
 they rest, for the larger the foundation is, the more 
 solid it naturally becomes. 
 
 "Watch your brother at his games, see how he exerts 
 his strength in drawing his companion toward him. The 
 boy resists with all his might. Your brother separates 
 his legs to give him a firmer purchase, presses his heels 
 into the ground as he throws himself back. The legs 
 support the trunk, which maintains the arms, and these 
 latter stretch themselves forward to their full extent, 
 drawing toward the trunk the boy to whom they, the 
 arms, are attached, by the hands. In this position your 
 brother's body can give you an exact idea of what takes 
 place in each of his muscles. Imagine the trunk to be 
 a muscle, the extended legs will represent the expansion 
 of the aponeurosis which fixes the muscle to its basis, 
 and the arms will be the tendons by means of which it 
 draws the bone placed under its control to itself. But all 
 this will fail to give you a clear insight into the world 
 of muscles. To know a country we must have visited 
 it. I am going to show you this one, by fully describ- 
 ing a muscle with everything belonging to it. You can 
 understand I do not mean to choose the first comer, by 
 way of doing him honor. That which I select is one of 
 the most active of the artisans of your stomach, working 
 for you each time your hand approaches your mouth, 
 and is called the flexor of the radius ; a muscle whose 
 name is rather popular, if not among young ladies, 
 at least among men who have any pretensions to strength, 
 it is called the biceps. 
 
CHAPTER XY. 
 
 THE MUSCLES (Continued.) 
 
 BICEPS in Latin means with two heads ; the term is 
 applied to a mountain whose summit is fork-shaped. 
 The famous Mount Parnassus, sacred to Apollo and the 
 Muses, is so shaped. There is a verse somewhere, either 
 in Horace or Ovid, that occurs to my recollection, in 
 which it is styled " the two-headed mountain." It is no 
 small honor that the flexor of the radius should bear 
 the name of so celebrated a mountain. 
 
 Our biceps is also fork-shaped at its summit, and 
 hence its name ; its position is at the inner side of the 
 arm, that part touching your chest when you press your 
 elbow against your body, but its entire course is difficult 
 to trace with the finger. 
 
 How astonished any one is upon going for the first 
 time on board ship, at the sailors being able to dis- 
 tinguish the different parts of the rigging among the 
 multitude of cords interlaced in all directions, each of 
 which corresponds to a special movement of the yards 
 and sails. 
 
 Suppose our muscles were unable at the first sum- 
 mons from the will to act of themselves, if, like the 
 sailors, we had to select the rope corresponding to each 
 movement we wish to execute, how very complicated 
 the work would be ! Not only are our muscles inter- 
 laced like the cords of a ship, but their fibres become so 
 
 (131) 
 
132 THE MUSCLES. 
 
 entangled and amalgamated that they appear at certain 
 points to be only one, while a little farther on they re- 
 appear in an isolated shape, so that we do not know at 
 all times whether we have to do with two muscles or 
 only with a single one. 
 
 This is the case with the biceps. 
 
 Its neighbor is an adductor of the humerus. You re- 
 collect the word adductor when I enumerated some of 
 the muscles ; it signifies that which draws inward. This 
 adductor, as. well as the biceps, is planted on an apophy- 
 sis of the scapula, by means of an aponeurosis common 
 to both. 
 
 There is a nice collection of scientific words, and I am 
 delighted to be able to make use of them in addressing 
 you. Certain it is that the aponeurosis in question en- 
 velops the two muscles at once by means of its prolonga- 
 tion, the fibres of which at the outset are found in close 
 contact, and seem to form but one. Then this covering 
 divides right and left, and the bundle of fibres belonging 
 to the biceps muscle being set at liberty goes off to rejoin 
 the body of the muscle, where it disappears in the vicin- 
 ity of the upper third of the humerus. 
 
 I told you the biceps has two heads. This one of 
 which we have just been speaking is its first and least im- 
 portant one the short head, as anatomists call it. The 
 other the long head, descends from a swelling on the upper 
 edge of the hollow in which the head of the humerus is 
 lodged. It is attached there by a very long tendon, which 
 is distorted in a ligamentous form on the head of the 
 humerus, and traverses the articulation concealed in a 
 fold of gynovial membrane, as if in a sheath ; leaving its 
 synovial sheath, the tendon becomes 'enlarged, and insen- 
 sibly changes into a thick round muscular bundle, it first 
 runs along the side of the short head, then opposes it, and 
 
THE MUSCLES. 133 
 
 at last absorbs it, as the Rhone absorbs the Saone at 
 Lyons. 
 
 It is at the point of junction of these two muscles at 
 their confluence, if we carry out the comparison, that the 
 muscle is the thickest, it gradually decreases toward the 
 elbow joint, and as it approaches the joint, the muscle may 
 be seen to degenerate into a tendon, large at first, then 
 very thin till it appears lost in the muscular fibres; 
 whence speedily disengaging itself, it attaches itself 
 under the form of a compact cord to a tuberosity of the 
 radius. 
 
 Tuberosity is the correct word here, and I make a 
 point of using it, because explaining its meaning gives me 
 an opportunity of unfolding some of the principal condi- 
 tions which preside over the action of the muscles on the 
 bones. 
 
 Tuberosity means a small knob, hence the term tuber 
 applied to potatoes which are really knobs growing on 
 the root of the plant. It is not without reason that the 
 lower tendon of the biceps attaches itself to the tuberos- 
 ity of the radius, neither is it without reason that the 
 upper tendon fixes itself on the little prominence, and its 
 fellow the aponeurosis of the short head on an apophysis, 
 which is a tuberosity also if you remember. 
 
 Lay a small plank on the ground and nail a cord along 
 it, lie down flat on the ground, place your two feet against 
 the end of the plank, try to draw it toward you so as to 
 exercise traction on the beam from above, instead of 
 horizontally ; in addition to this, you may attach the 
 cord to the top of a peg planted in the plank, and if you 
 employ these two means at once, the operation will no 
 longer be a difficult one. 
 
 You will thus have accomplished exactly what the 
 flexor of the radius does when it attaches itself to the 
 
134 THE MUSCLES. 
 
 ridge on the bone which is its fulcrum ; in order to raise 
 it a little, it fastens its cord to the summit of the little 
 knob of the radius. These various irregularities ob- 
 servable on the surface of the bones and which I have 
 hitherto passed unnoticed lest I should tire you with 
 details of secondary importance these rough parts or 
 ridges invariably serve as points of attachment to the 
 muscles ; this is so truly their use that they are con- 
 stantly found in size proportioned to the strength of the 
 muscles which cling to them. 
 
 On looking at the biceps of a wrestler whether tall 
 or short, you may be sure the tuberosity which receives 
 the tendon forms a much larger projection on the radius 
 than it does in an individual of the same size, whose 
 muscles are slender and without energy. In the same 
 way, by the size of the projection on the bone, you may 
 judge of the power of the muscle attached to it. 
 
 To give you one of the most striking illustrations of 
 this : the anatomist is in a position to state without 
 having seen the animal, by simply examining a fragment 
 of its jaw, that it was originally possessed of formidable 
 muscles, and that it belonged to the class carnivora. 
 
 Besides, the projections of which we have been speak- 
 ing would be too small, in many instances, to raise the 
 muscles, if the bone requiring to be set in motion were 
 placed horizontally to that acting as its fulcrum ; it is 
 the story of yourself and the plank I just now proposed. 
 
 Nature has provided for this in another way. Here, 
 for instance, the humerus and radius are each slightly 
 curved inward, forming a kind of arch, the two ends of 
 which do not meet in a straight line. This double curve 
 is also found in the thigh and leg bones, but I have 
 postponed mentioning this peculiarity until I could tell 
 the reason of it. 
 
THE MUSCLES. 135 
 
 Here, my dear child, you see how much there is to ad- 
 mire in the study of nature, how as you advance the way 
 becomes easier ; what at one time seemed difficult grows 
 more intelligible each step you take. In nature nothing 
 is left to chance ; no apparent caprice but is accounted 
 for in due time. Not a molecule of matter has been 
 placed without an intelligent design ; even when she 
 appears,' as in the case of the sesamoids, to have reserved 
 to herself the right of indulging her fancy, there is an 
 object in view. These mysterious formations on the 
 tendons aid them in their way in exercising traction on 
 the bones, in raising the fibres of these tendons above 
 the horizontal line. The sesamoid is to the tendon what 
 the peg is to the plank. 
 
 I could not have explained all this to you before tell- 
 ing you of the facts to which they refer. What a pity 
 we do not know everything ; how clear-sighted we 
 should then be ! 
 
 To return to the biceps ; I should much like to 
 know whether when I began my description of it, a very 
 natural thought suggested itself to your mind. We saw 
 two bundles of muscles, undistinguishable at their source, 
 hidden as they were by the aponeuorosis which encloses 
 them in a single packet, yet each has its particular des- 
 tination, and it is not the same movement they are called 
 upon to execute. How then, in the performance of their 
 respective functions, can they avoid impeding each 
 other's progress ? 
 
 The question would be puzzling were it not customary 
 with these bundles to work together, so that the two 
 movements are almost always performed by a simulta- 
 neous contraction. Let the adductor of the humerus be 
 brought into play so as to draw the arm toward the 
 chest, you will see that, quite naturally and uninten- 
 
136 THE MUSCLES. 
 
 tionally on your part, the forearm will bend on the arm, 
 by an instinctive contraction of the biceps. If, however, 
 owing to any intervention of the will, you raise your arm 
 up to your chest, at the same time keeping your forearm 
 well stretched out, the inconvenience and stiffness of this 
 intentional movement will soon warn you that you are 
 acting contrary to rule. Again, try to draw a rather 
 heavy object toward you, in turning your arm outward, 
 that is to say by contracting the fibres of the biceps and 
 relaxing those of its twin, your power will be far less 
 than if you were to allow the two muscles to work in 
 concert, and let the arm raise itself to the chest whilst 
 the forearm bends on the arm. 
 
 In order to be exact, I ought to mention that there are 
 other muscles at the shoulder and upper part of the chest, 
 which are attached to the humerus, and are ordinary 
 auxiliaries in the various movements of which I have 
 just spoken. The auxiliaries assisting or refusing their 
 aid, according as these movements take place or not, in 
 the sense of their contractions. The muscles I have 
 represented as upper servants, willing only to undertake 
 one duty at a time. Particular as they may be, they 
 are no more able than our servants are to act alone. 
 Throughout the body'they constantly require a helping 
 hand. There are among them, *as in every organised 
 society, certain recognised mutual laws, from the ob- 
 servance of "which they cannot escape without weakening 
 the general effort ; of this we have an example at every 
 step. 
 
 Set a strong man to do some hard work to which he 
 has not been accustomed, and his strength will appear to 
 forsake him ; and he who could follow a plough the whole 
 day without fatigue would, if unaccustomed to work with 
 the oar, become useless after an hour's rowing. The 
 
THE MUSCLES. 137 
 
 body, unaccustomed to new duties given it to perform, 
 cannot at first take the position necessary to harmonise 
 the play of the muscles, which should move in concert ; 
 instead of giving that mutual support in which lies the 
 secret of their strength, they betray each other, and even 
 at times interfere with each other's action, and strength 
 is of no avail. It is like a team in which each horse pulls 
 in a different direction ; the strength of the animals is 
 exhausted, but the wagon stands still. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE MUSCLES (Continued.') 
 
 HAVING selected the biceps as the type in our study of 
 the muscles, I shall refer to it once more. 
 
 I know that your eldest brother prides himself upon 
 his strength, and certainly his muscles are tolerably firm. 
 Feel his arm as it hangs down by his side, your fingers 
 sink into it without any effort ; but ask him to double 
 his arm vigorously, then put your finger once more upon 
 his biceps, which has now become energetically con- 
 tracted in order to draw the forearm toward him, and 
 you will encounter a tolerably hard body on which your 
 finger makes no impression. 
 
 How do you account for this resistance, which hither- 
 to unfelt now suddenly appears ? 
 
 This, my dear child, is an example of the power of 
 concord between members of the same body. Union is 
 strength ; such is the case among mankind as well as 
 elsewhere. So long as your brother's arm hung quietly 
 at his side the biceps was relaxed, the beads of the mil 
 lions of little rosaries of which it is composed, instead 
 of being attracted toward each other, were floating about 
 so that you could easily displace them with your finger. 
 A.t your request a mysterious act of volition brought a 
 power of attraction into play, which suddenly affected 
 all these unconcerned beads, precipitating them against 
 each other, and, so long as this power lasts, they deter- 
 (138) 
 
THE MUSCLES. 139 
 
 minedly oppose every attempt to displace them ; a dis- 
 seminated powerless crowd of particles suddenly gathers 
 itself into a compact and united group, presenting a 
 mass not easily overcome. You never for a moment ima- 
 gine that nations could derive a lesson from this biceps 
 muscle, whose resisting power disappears as soon as the 
 mutual attraction of the muscular atoms vanishes ; but 
 we are verging on politics with our biceps, and I may 
 soon have to ask, Where are politics to end ? 
 
 To return to the history of the human body, it is 
 desirable you should know that this sudden hardness of 
 the muscle, when it is contracted, has incomparably more 
 important duties to perform than opposing the pressure 
 of the finger. It is an invaluable safeguard to our joints, 
 and what is of still more importance to us, it prevents 
 our mutilating ourselves upon every little exertion. 
 
 The ligaments surrounding our joints are very strong, 
 nevertheless they would not always suffice to retain the 
 bones in their respective places if the muscles, stiffening 
 with every movement, did not second them, and form, as 
 it were, another line of defence. I spoke to you of this 
 during our study of the shoulder, when I explained that 
 the articular capsule allows so much liberty to the head 
 of the humerus that, but for the rigidity of the adjoining 
 muscles, the bone would escape from its socket. It is at 
 this part that the muscles are guardians,^>#r excellence, of 
 order around the articulations, but though not quite so 
 apparent elsewhere they play a part not less important, 
 and when a limb is paralysed, that is to say, when its 
 muscles have lost the faculty of becoming hard on con- 
 traction, dislocation takes place much more easily. 
 
 Once let death, that universal paralysis, appear, and 
 the artificial power which each movement developed in the 
 muscle departs never more to return, and the muscle is 
 
140 THE MUSCLES. 
 
 thus compelled to deliver up tlie secret of its real 
 weakness. 
 
 Detach a muscle from a dead body, and to its tendon 
 fasten a weight ; it will not require a very heavy 
 weight to tear the muscle, though the tendon, still 
 intact, is sufficiently strong to support a much greater 
 strain. Now during life the case is the very reverse.* 
 No matter how violent the effort, a broken muscle is an 
 unheard-of thing, and whilst muscles remain whole, ten- 
 dons are sometimes ruptured. If people take extraor- 
 dinary or sudden leaps they are liable to break the ten- 
 do-achilles, which is the tendon behind the foot, at the 
 extremity of the calcaneum. If you wish to know the 
 origin of the name tendo-achilles, you must take a peep 
 into mythology.*)* 
 
 I think you must now be sufficiently acquainted with 
 your muscles, which assuredly are by no means the least 
 useful of your organs, since without their aid you would 
 be unable to walk a step, to write a single word, or what 
 would be still more deplorable, you would not have the 
 power to kiss your mother. 
 
 You think, perhaps, that I am joking ; far from it, I 
 am quite serious. Your lips are muscles which alter- 
 nately stiffen and relax, as you close your mouth in 
 order to* re-open it, and your mother's cheeks which are 
 also muscles, have their part to perform. If there were 
 
 * " Fibres of muscles ruptured are met with, though rupture of 
 an entire muscle is certainly not known." Note of Translator. 
 
 f The goddess Thetis dipped her son Achilles in the river Styx, 
 which rendered him invulnerable in every part except the heel, by 
 which she held him. On the capture of Troy, Polyxena was 
 promised to Achilles as his wife, but while he stood before the altar 
 of Apollo, her brother Paris wounded him mortally with an arrow 
 in his vulnerable heel, where the tendon joins the calcaneum. 
 
THE MUSCLES. 141 
 
 no muscles to act this double part, you might say fare- 
 well to kisses. 
 
 There is, above all, a certain labial or lip muscle, that 
 takes a prominent part in the various movements of your 
 mouth, about which I must say a word or two. It 
 would be a great pity, whilst we are on this subject, to 
 omit telling you of this useful handmaid in our little 
 kingdom. 
 
 You have seen a young lady's work-bag, and know 
 how it opens and shuts. A runner is made all around 
 near the opening at the top, and a double string passed 
 through. If you wish to close the bag, you draw the 
 two strings outward holding them at the two extrem- 
 ities, the runner gathers up into a little packet of folds 
 with the movement, and nothing can fall out. 
 
 If you wish to open the bag, you take hold of the two 
 sides of the runner, and gradually pull them apart, which 
 leaves the opening free. All this you must often have 
 seen, and you, no doubt, have been in the habit of making 
 work-bags for yourself, or bags for your brother's 
 marbles. 
 
 Now just imagine to yourself a runner that shuts and 
 opens of its own free will without the aid of any string ; 
 such a runner is the labial muscle. Its fibres are ar- 
 ranged in circles all around the opening of the mouth, 
 and this opening either shrinks or enlarges according as 
 the fibres are contracted or relaxed. Pucker up your 
 lips for a moment and look at yourself in the mirror ; 
 you will see your lips are drawn together into a heap, 
 forming a quantity of tiny folds similar to those caused 
 by the runners on the bag. This is the position they 
 assume of themselves when you suck barley-sugar, or 
 when you fill your glass too full to lift it to your mouth, 
 and are obliged to stoop down and drink from above. 
 
142 THE MUSCLES. 
 
 This delightful little labial, the barley-sugar and kiss- 
 ing-muscles, does not, as you see, act in the same way as 
 the muscles of which we have hitherto spoken. It has 
 no bones to move, and its contractions have no other ob- 
 ject than to make it close upon itself, and for this reason 
 it can hardly be classed with its companions in the arms 
 and legs. Placed like an advanced guard, at the entrance 
 of the digestive tube, this muscle claims some connexion 
 with it, and to a certain extent participates in the nature 
 of these internal muscles, like the stomach, the heart, and 
 the diaphragm, whose occupation is not dependent on 
 the will, and which only contract for their own pleasure, 
 and take care never to over-exert themselves. These 
 muscles always have fibres arranged in circles, or rather 
 crossing each other in every direction, whilst the fibres 
 of the other muscles are arranged in straight parallel 
 lines ; and though we have not terminated our study of 
 of them, I am not sorry to have had this opportunity of 
 teaching you wherein the tissue of these proud republi- 
 cans differs from that of your very humble subjects. 
 The humble subjects are those obedient to the will, as, 
 for example, those of the arms and legs, etc., etc. 
 
 As to the labial muscle, if it does not always wait to 
 help you to prattle until you have given it positive orders 
 to do so, it is nevertheless, at your disposition. It is owing 
 to this peculiarity, namely, its apparent independence of 
 the will, that it is associated with the little kingdom, on 
 the limits of which it stands. It is a muscle of transition 
 which passes from one country to another, and the two 
 lives I mentioned to you at the beginning of our study, 
 the life of nutrition and the life of relation, each lays 
 claim to it. Its position resembles that of the tongue, 
 which is a muscle of nutrition when we swallow, and a 
 muscle of relation when we speak ; but in the one case, 
 
THE MUSCLES. 143 
 
 as well as in the other, it is under the control of the will. 
 Of course I do not include those who have never learned 
 to command their tongue ; only that the tongue, pene- 
 trating farther within the confines of the interior of the 
 republic, resembles more closely what is to be found 
 there. Fatigue is unknown to it, at least mine has 
 never yet made any complaint ; how has it been with 
 you? 
 
 This reminds me that I have still something to say to 
 you about the muscles before we leave them. A short 
 time since I called your attention to that peculiar sensi- 
 bility of the ligaments, which allows them to be pierced, 
 cut, or burned, without crying out for help, that is to 
 say, without their awakening in us any feeling of pain, 
 yet which energetically protest immediately they are 
 pulled or twisted. The muscles differ from them in some 
 degree, and are sensible to pain when they are cut. If 
 you cut your hand with a knife, the pain proceeds less 
 from the section of the muscles than from the contact 
 with the air inflaming them and impregnating the 
 blood with oxygen, neither more nor less than if it 
 had encountered the blood in the lungs. In proof of 
 this, certain operations are performed in which mus- 
 cles are divided almost without causing pain, by means 
 of a fine instrument delicately introduced beneath the 
 skin. Surgeons call this operation sub-cutaneous sec- 
 tion. 
 
 Nevertheless, these brave attendants who transport us 
 where we wish to go, are far from being devoid of feel- 
 ing. Each organ in its own way gives us notice if all 
 be not going on smoothly ; the over-exerted muscles make 
 it known by an especial pain, if I may so term it, by 
 fatigue, and however modest their demand may be at 
 first, if their cry remains unheeded, they at length 
 
144 THE MUSCLES. 
 
 become imperious. A little fatigue is of no consequence, 
 whilst excessive and protracted fatigue may become so 
 unbearable as to render death a welcome release. In- 
 stances are on record of individuals having been so 
 worn out on a march that they have chosen to lie down 
 and await death, rather than continue the struggle. 
 
 I hope, my dear little girl, that you may never expe- 
 rience a fatigue from which death would be a release. 
 Yet though we be not exposed to excessive lassitude, we 
 are continually liable to experience fatigue; let me, 
 therefore, give you some advice on this subject. 
 
 Do you recollect that walk in the wood a few days 
 ago, when for a short time you had lost yourself, instead 
 of walking you dragged your body along, making all 
 kinds of dreadful lamentations. No sooner had you 
 found the right track, and caught sight of the house, 
 than you jumped for joy, your fatigue vanished, and by the 
 time you reached the garden-gate you were ready to set 
 off running. Here, it strikes me, is a useful lesson for. 
 you. Muscles are like naughty children, who cease cry- 
 ing when they see you take no notice of them. The 
 more you sympathise in, their little annoyances, the more 
 compassion you show for any little accident that befalls 
 them, the more disconsolate they become, and nothing so 
 increases real fatigue as to repeat constantly, {t How 
 tired I am ! " Spoiled children, who have never been ex- 
 ercised in the school of obedience, are incapable of the 
 smallest effort. On the same principle, let me beg you 
 to bear in mind, that if you wish your muscles to obey 
 you later in life, when you will seriously require their 
 help, you must not treat them now like spoiled chil- 
 dren. 
 
 As regards fatigue, I am afraid I may have tired you 
 in dwelling so long upon the bones and muscles ; they 
 
THE MUSCLES. 145 
 
 are at last concluded, thank God. I am now about to 
 show you how the machine which we have been so care- 
 fully examining, piece by piece, works as a whole. I have 
 been a little tedious perhaps, but the subject concerns you 
 very deeply. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ATTITUDES. 
 
 I AM about to speak to you of the different attitudes ; 
 in other words, the various positions the body is capable 
 of assuming without any change of place. 
 
 For some time we have been playing the part of the 
 learned in inquiring, as anatomists must do, into the 
 history of the bones and muscles that are concealed below 
 the skin, and which to be properly understood must be 
 studied. We are now competent to converse on these 
 matters without calling in the aid of books. Every per- 
 son knows what it is to stand erect, to sit, to kneel, to 
 lie down ; and these are things as familiar to you as 
 they are to the professors in the school of medicine ; still 
 they deserve our attention, inasmuch as the fact of a 
 little girl being able to sit erect is not sufficient, she 
 should also be able to explain why she does so. Your 
 little dog stands more firmly on his paws than you on 
 your legs, yet he is unable to give any reason for his 
 ability to do so. We shall soon master the mystery, 
 however, and be greatly in advance of him on this 
 subject. 
 
 When I say, soon, I perhaps speak a little at random. 
 Have you any idea what turn our conversation must now 
 take by way of commencement? Well, I am going 
 to speak of that same law which causes the earth to 
 move round the sun, and which ever since the creation 
 has regulated the course of the stars through the immen- 
 (146) 
 
ATTITUDES. 147 
 
 sity of space. The subject is no trifling one, you see, and 
 when a little girl, by her inattention, gets a tumble, she 
 should be able, as she rubs her injured nose, to console 
 herself with the thought, that a power governing the 
 world and exacting obedience from the stars is the 
 cause of her fall ; only that the stars never fall, because 
 they always do as they are told to do. 
 
 Man is very proud of being the only creature of the 
 animal kingdom that can maintain an erect posture, his 
 face raised heavenward. This is a legitimate pride ; and 
 would to God that it accompanied him on all occasions, 
 in his actions as well as in his gait. But to all honors 
 penalties are attached, and those who attain to the 
 dignity of walking erect require to look out, and learn 
 how to maintain their equilibrium by attending cau- 
 tiously to their centre of gravity, liable as it is, at every 
 moment, to be impelled forward from the basis on which 
 it rests. 
 
 A mysterious, universal, unfailing law exists, attract- 
 ing all bodies, large and small, toward each other : the 
 book lying there toward you, you and it toward the 
 ground, the ground toward the sun, and the sun toward 
 the unknown centre around which it gravitates. This 
 explains the origin of the word to you, and the idea it 
 recalls. The great Sir Isaac Newton, who first ascer- 
 tained this power, gave it the name of gravitation, from 
 the Latin word, gravis, meaning heavy ; it is also called 
 attraction, weight, gravity, according to the different 
 aspects under which it is considered ; but all these terms 
 imply the same thing, viz., the power inclining various 
 bodies toward each other, the love they have one for the 
 other thus affording a fine example to lovers. 
 
 If I am able some day to find time to write you a book 
 on astronomy, I shall have a great deal to tell you 
 
148 ATTITUDES. 
 
 regarding this universal law of attraction, which is the 
 fundamental basis of our astronomical system. To-day 
 I shall content myself by informing you, that the larger 
 the body and the nearer it is, the more considerable is its 
 power of attraction. Naturally, when two bodies attract 
 a third, and each one acts for itself, the more powerful 
 body will be the conqueror. 
 
 Now, on the other hand, this book, this chair, that 
 cupboard, that house, yon distant hill, each one of these 
 bodies vies with the rest in attracting you toward itself ; 
 but as these objects are as nothing compared with the 
 gigantic globe upon which we live, or the earth, which 
 in its turn attracts us toward itself, so all these minor 
 attractions disappear before the larger one. 
 
 On the other hand, the sun, the moon, and all the 
 stars that are visible by night in the sky, not to mention 
 millions of invisible ones ; all these stars, in obedience to 
 the law of attraction, call you, my dear child, toward 
 them, unconscious though you be of the honor they con- 
 fer upon you. 
 
 To take as example one of these bodies ; the sun, for 
 instance, is one million four hundred thousand times 
 larger than our earth, which appears but an impercepti- 
 ble atom, when the mind is engaged in contemplating the 
 myriads of worlds in whose bosom we seem lost like a 
 grain of dust amidst a heap of stones. But because this 
 imperceptible atom is under our feet, and the sun a 
 distance of ninety-five millions of miles from our earth, 
 whilst the stars are too far removed for me to assign 
 them a place, all these attracting forces lose so much of 
 their power in travelling from the depths of the sky, that 
 by the time they reach us, the superior, because nearer, 
 attraction of the earth renders the more distant inap- 
 preciable. The roar of a cannon is louder than my 
 
ATTITUDES. 149 
 
 voice, yet if one were fired off at a great distance from 
 us whilst we are talking together, you would not hear it, 
 and my voice would easily drown its thunder, weakened 
 by the distance it would have to travel. 
 
 "With regard to us, the earth's attraction possesses no 
 rival. We are incontestably subject to its power, and 
 were there not another force within us capable of strug- 
 gling against the former, we should remain fixed to the 
 ground like all inanimate objects, which, containing no 
 opposing force within themselves, remain immovable, so 
 long as no foreign power interferes to withdraw them 
 from that influence which is ever attracting them toward 
 the earth. 
 
 This is what constitutes the weight of bodies. We 
 measure it by the amount of effort necessary to raise a 
 body from off the ground ; in other words, the effort 
 required by us to overcome the attraction the ground 
 exercises over it, for it is unconscious of the resistance 
 which it offers us ; a resistance which frequently calls 
 forth our indignation. When you stiffen your muscles 
 in order to take a jump, or, if you prefer it, to enable 
 you to lift up the seventy or eighty Ibs. weight, which 
 you can easily do, the difficulty you experience you must 
 attribute to the earth and not to your body, which has 
 nothing to do with it. In itself it possesses no more 
 real resisting force than a stick placed before me would 
 have if I wished to draw itj toward me ; all its strength 
 is in whatever pulls it. Supposing you held the stick 
 the resistance would be very trifling, I should soon suc- 
 ceed in gaining possession of it ; if your brother held 
 it, the struggle would be greater, still I should conquer 
 in the end, whilst if a horse pulled it, I should be obliged 
 to yield, the stick would then be stronger than I am. 
 The same law applies to the weight of bodies. Just 
 
150 ATTITUDES. 
 
 imagine your slight, little frame transported to the sur- 
 face of the sun, where, for reasons which it would take 
 me too long to explain, the force of attraction is twenty- 
 eight times greater than on the surface of the earth, 
 and, light as you really are, when there you would weigh 
 from 1,680 to 1,940 Ibs. You would have no power to 
 jump. Nay, what am I saying? you would be unable 
 to take a single step, or even to stand erect. Again, 
 imagine yourself on one of those little planets which 
 astronomers now discover by the dozen, and where the 
 force of attraction is about twenty times less than on 
 the earth ; in this instance we should find a little girl 
 weighing less than a four-pound loaf, and able to take a 
 jump of forty feet without exerting more strength than 
 she now requires to enable her to step across a ditch two 
 feet in width. 
 
 As you see, all this is merely a question of opposing 
 forces, and I was quite correct, when I spoke to you of 
 weight, in stating that one must be strong to be light. 
 Let us thoroughly understand one another ; the light- 
 ness that consists in occupying ourselves with trifles 
 has nothing wonderful in it ; it is like the lightness of 
 the little girl in the tiny planet, though even amidst this 
 lightness there are people silly enough to put on a serious 
 air. But he who faces the world's difficulties and tram- 
 ples the greatest of them under foot, treading his onward 
 course alert and joyful, lightly bearing the tenfold 
 weight accumulated on his head, is he not stronger and 
 more praiseworthy than, let me ask you, he would be if 
 he allowed himself to be crushed by his burden, and 
 reduced to a level from which he would be unable to 
 rise? 
 
 But apropos of gravitation, you will fancy, perhaps, 
 that we are losing sight of this famous centre of gra- 
 
ATTITUDES. 151 
 
 vity, in speaking of which I became entangled in this 
 long explanation. Keep your mind at ease, we are com- 
 ing to it. 
 
 Balance the two sides of a pair of scales equally, the 
 beam which supports them being unable to depress the 
 one side without elevating the other, and the earth at- 
 tracting its two extremities toward it with equal force, 
 it follows that, because the two suspended weights are 
 equal, the beam remains undecided between the two 
 attractions, which, though equal in energy, proceed from 
 different attractions, and by its immovability keeps the 
 bowls of the scales in a state called equilibrium. 
 
 This point settled, do you recollect the median line I 
 spoke to you about some time ago, which, beginning at 
 the top of the head and continuing in the direction of 
 the nose, divides the body into two exact halves, equal 
 in weight, one being a repetition of the other? If 
 these two halves were left to themselves each would 
 speedily fall to its own side, one to the right the other 
 to the left, by the attraction of the earth, which dis- 
 approves of bodies remaining at a distance from it. But 
 these halves being firmly united by the median line, 
 mutually uphold each other, the right half being unable 
 to respond to the call from the earth without dragging 
 its companion, which, on its side, is drawn to the left, 
 and vice versa. They thus form an equilibrium, and, 
 provided the uniting line remains intact, nothing will 
 fall. 
 
 Now, imagine a second line separating the body, front 
 and back, into two other parts of equal weight, so long 
 as the median line maintains its place it will suffice, will 
 it not, to prevent the body from falling either backward 
 or forward? Again, if you imagine a third line equally 
 dividing the body between the head and feet, by placing 
 
152 ATTITUDES. 
 
 a point of support under that line, you will be able to 
 retain the body crosswise, and prevent one-half carrying 
 away the other. The principle is always the same, so 
 we shall not have to go over the ground again. At the 
 point where the three lines meet in the interior of the 
 body there will be a central point common to all the 
 three, the rallying point, so to speak, and around which, 
 consequently, the earth's 'attraction, which exerts its 
 power over each part of the body at the same time, will 
 counterbalance itself in every direction. If you have 
 carefully followed all that has -gone before, it must be 
 quite clear to you that so long as this point is upheld by 
 a proper support, a fall must be impossible. Well, then, 
 this point is the centre of gravity. 
 
 You have perhaps found this long explanation a little 
 wearisome, but what can I do ? It is the office of this 
 naughty centre of gravity to fatigue people. From it 
 proceeds all the discomfort we experience when we 
 remain standing too long, and our loins ache so. They 
 complain of having been obliged to watch over the 
 centre of gravity in order to keep it in its place, from 
 which it is always endeavoring to swerve, just like a 
 turbulent child pulling at its nurse's hand in order to 
 hurry forward at the risk of sprawling on the ground. 
 Now that you have made the acquaintance of this ser- 
 vant, I propose telling you how he transacts his business 
 in the various positions of the body. 
 
CHAPTER XYIII. 
 
 ATTITUDE S ( Continued). 
 
 IP the vertebral column ran exactly through the centre 
 of the body as the wick does through that of a candle ; 
 if the hole in the skull where the vertebral column joins 
 it were immediately in the centre of the head ; if the 
 femur and tibia fitted firmly and exactly into their 
 sockets ; then standing would cease to be a fatigue. 
 The centre of gravity would be directly upon the line 
 of the principal beam of the edifice, the summit of 
 which would be perfectly poised, and the supports of 
 the body being deprived of motion, it being once placed 
 erect would remain so, supported by bones no longer 
 susceptible of experiencing fatigue, without the least 
 intervention of the muscles to establish an equilibrium 
 which nothing would derange. 
 
 Unhappily, such is not the case. What am I saying ? 
 It is, indeed, a happy arrangement. We have been formed 
 to move forward, and not to remain stationary ; if the 
 measures taken to facilitate our walking had to succumb 
 to the advantages of immobility, we should lose too 
 much by the exchange. 
 
 First of all, the vertebral column is found toward 
 the back part of the body, and the weight of the organs 
 contained in the chest and stomach tend to drag it for- 
 ward throughout its whole length. Again, the head if 
 left to itself, would fall upon the chest, and still further 
 increase the preponderance of weight on the front of 
 7* (153) 
 
154 ATTITUDES. 
 
 the column. Lastly, there are only rounded surfaces to 
 the joints of the femur and tibia, which are always ready 
 to glide one upon the other, and the bend of the two 
 bones 'which meet obliquely at the knee continually 
 causes them to swerve at the point of contact. 
 
 The muscles must then be constantly in play to resist 
 these impulses, and bear up against these sources of 
 weakness. Those of the neck pull upon the head so as 
 to hold it back. Those which fill the empty spaces be- 
 tween the vertebrae all along the column, draw the 
 whole body to it. The extensors of the femur and of 
 the tibia stiffen' to keep these bones in position, and from 
 head to foot there is a perpetual struggle between the 
 external force, proceeding from the earth, which strives 
 to accomplish the fall of our movable framework, and 
 the force that is within us which enables us to preserve 
 our upright posture. 
 
 Now our muscles the agents of this interior power, 
 a necessary one, because its antagonist is always pre- 
 sent, our muscles as I have already informed you, are 
 short-winded wrestlers, and require to rest at every mo- 
 ment. This is the reason why absolute immobility is so 
 fatiguing, or, to say better, impossible to preserve. Just 
 take notice what occurs when you are obliged to stand 
 without movement ; from time to time, the knees .yield 
 and then return to their position, the body stoops forward 
 and draws itself up again, an imperceptible oscillation 
 of the head occurs without your being conscious of it. 
 These are the extensor muscles, which relax at intervals 
 only to brace themselves up afresh. As the moments of 
 repose are necessarily very limited, the merciless weight 
 never giving any truce, the poor extensors, upon whom 
 all the work devolves, soon ask to be released, far sooner 
 than if you were walking, for then the extensors and 
 
ATTITUDES. 155 
 
 flexors must each take its own turn, and they have longer 
 time allowed them for repose. 
 
 Have you ever remarked that when you are standing 
 you involuntarily keep your feet at a little distance from 
 one another, placing one rather in advance in order to 
 make your balance more sure? You have very often 
 done this, and yet I feel pretty sure you never thought 
 that, in acting thus, you were enlarging your base of 
 support. Here is another term of which I must teach 
 you the meaning. 
 
 Our centre of gravity is placed at the top of the sa- 
 crum, to the front in the interior of the body. In order 
 to secure a body from falling, the perpendicular of its 
 centre of gravity, that is to say, the line of direction 
 passing from it to the ground, must fall within its base, 
 or on the space comprised between several points of 
 support. This is what is called its basis of support, 
 and you can readily understand that the more extended 
 it is, the more margin is allowed to the centre of gravity 
 above it, within which to balance itself. 
 
 This is why quadrupeds are so well balanced upon their 
 legs ; their centre of gravity has the whole space between 
 their four feet for a supporting basis, and so they are su- 
 perabundantly guaranteed against all chance of falling. 
 
 We, on the other hand, have no basis except our two 
 feet, and well it is for us that we can enlarge it by plac- 
 ing our feet apart, when, owing to the relaxing of our 
 extensors, our centre of gravity oscillates. As this ten- 
 dency is to fall forward, it is also in the same direction 
 that we naturally increase our basis by advancing one 
 foot. Besides, the very conformation of our feet is in 
 accordance with this tendency of the centre of gravity 
 to fall forward. They lengthen in a vertical sense, and 
 when we are standing it is not upon the heel, but on the 
 
156 ATTITUDES. 
 
 middle, more frequently at the extremity of the foot, that 
 the weight of the body falls. Try to stand steadily upon 
 your heels, and see how very difficult it is to preserve 
 the centre of gravity perpendicular to this base. If 
 you make the same experiment on your toes, you will 
 find it easier, unless your calves, by the fatigue you ex- 
 perience, do not soon warn you that the extensors of the 
 foot, which are lodged there, cannot endure the neces- 
 sary effort required to sustain the body for any length 
 of time, and so cry out to be relieved. 
 
 We are also able to displace this valuable centre of 
 gravity on which the common safety depends, whenever 
 it threatens harm, and we can transport it to a place of 
 safety, like a nation which changes its capital to pre- 
 serve its independence. Do you see this tight-rope 
 dancer, who has only for his basis of support, an inch of 
 hemp, upon which the famous perpendicular must fall 
 to a nicety, under pain of carrying all along with it, if 
 by any mischance it swerves to one side. Here it is not 
 a question of enlarging the basis, which is invariable, 
 and the centre of gravity no longer needs oscillate. He 
 must change his position each moment, so as to preserve 
 the centre of gravity immediately above the cord. For 
 this purpose rope-dancers make use of a long pole, 
 which the dancer holds in his two hands, passing it from 
 right to left, according as the movement of the body 
 causes an excess of weight to fall to the one side or the 
 other. Skillful dancers dispense with the pole, and shift 
 the centre of gravity from one point to another, simply 
 by balancing themselves so as to maintain an equal 
 weight on either side. When not quite sure of our foot- 
 ing, or when afraid of our centre of gravity misleading 
 us, we instinctively adopt these measures, and throw out 
 our arms so as to recover our balance. A person who 
 
ATTITUDES. 157 
 
 is not master of his basis must yield to it, and follow 
 where it leads him, if he wishes to avoid falling ; this is 
 a maxim you should never forget. 
 
 There are certain cases in which the centre of gravity 
 is, in spite of ourselves, thrown beyond its usual limits, 
 and we are then compelled to vary our position, accord- 
 ing to the new conditions presented to us. 
 
 Suppose now that I place a heavily laden basket upon 
 my back, my centre of gravity immediately passes to the 
 opposite side of the column ; its perpendicular falls be- 
 hind my heels and changes the duty of the muscles. In 
 this instance the flexors are the ones to contract, that 
 they may bend the body with its burden forward ; we are 
 then in no danger of falling backward, and the extensors 
 take a holiday. 
 
 On the other hand, what happens to the women who 
 go about selling apples, and carry their merchandise in 
 front of them, on flat baskets strapped to their waists 
 by a belt ? If they were not to throw their body well 
 backward their centre of gravity would be put in peril, 
 from the weight of the basket. You may easily see how 
 they throw themselves backward upon their loins, and 
 waddle as they wai&, fearing to bring their feet too close 
 together, lest their balance should be disturbed. 
 
 This is exactly the position a very stout person 
 naturally assumes. If he stood quite straight, his un- 
 fortunate perpendicular would fall beyond his toes, so he 
 is compelled to tighten the rein lest it should carry 
 him too far. 
 
 Lastly, endeavor to lift with one hand a pail filled 
 with water. Your whole body will lean to the opposite 
 side in a moment, and you will plant one foot as near to 
 the pail as possible, and always for the same reason, that 
 the combined weight of your body and the pail may 
 
158 ATTITUDES. 
 
 find their point of equilibrium above the space compre- 
 hended between your feet. 
 
 Thus it is, that amidst the continued struggle carried 
 on by our muscles against the power of the earth's at- 
 traction, instinct comes to the rescue, and enables them 
 to triumph over it. So long as you unconsciously re- 
 sisted in the way an animal does, I say it was by instinct ; 
 let us understand each other. Now that you know why 
 you do so, it will be the result of reason if you give 
 yourself time to think about it ; not that you are likely 
 to carry out the rule any better than hitherto, but what 
 a difference 1 
 
 To any one seated, the struggle soon becomes a less 
 severe one, because the very position obliges us partly to 
 yield to the wishes of our imperious mother, the earth, 
 who unhesitatingly attracts toward her whatever has 
 emanated from her bosom, and she has no longer to re- 
 claim what has been given to her. The legs, those thin 
 vacillating props which we have always to keep an eye 
 upon, are no longer taken into -account, and the centre 
 of gravity is perfectly poised, situated as it is only a 
 few inches distant from a base sufficiently large to guar- 
 * rantee its perfect security. Nevertheless, a great deal 
 remains to be said. The struggle still continues in the 
 upper part of the body, which, unless held in check by 
 the muscles of the vertebral column, would incline for- 
 ward. Those of the neck are also obliged to work con- 
 tinually, so as to prevent the head from falling. Let 
 but sleep intervene to benumb the muscular action for a 
 moment, and the chin soon drops on the chest, and con- 
 tinues its downward tendency, until this inexplicable 
 instinct within us, which watches over our entire econo- 
 my, rouses it from its torpor by one of those sudden 
 starts so familiar to all of us in such cases. 
 
ATTITUDES. 159 
 
 There are two ways, then, in which assistance may "be 
 rendered to the muscles, the first of which is to seek a 
 support behind that shall receive the weight of the upper 
 part of the body. For this express purpose backs to 
 our chairs have been invented. The second is by lean- 
 ing forward upon the elbows, just as a house that leans 
 to one side must be propped up by beams ; and indolent 
 people, who prefer yielding to carry on a struggle, are 
 in the habit of adopting this plan at table. I mention 
 this casually, because I know you to be a well-brought-up 
 little child, and that your mother never suffers you to lay 
 an elbow on the table. Besides, there is really no ne- 
 cessity for it. The muscles are like ourselves ; when 
 once they are accustomed to working they think nothing 
 of it. 
 
 The moment when the supplementary point of support 
 is especially useful is when we are kneeling ; the extrem- 
 ity of the tibia upon which the weight of the body falls 
 does not stretch forward as the foot does, and the centre 
 of gravity has no other balancing margin at this side. 
 Thus the body instinctively throws itself backward, the 
 femur begins to revolve in its socket, which gives way, 
 and as the fatigue of resisting this bending for any 
 length of time would be too much for the extensors, and 
 especially in children, whose bones in this region are 
 still rather soft, unless a great effort is made, the femur 
 gradually falls, until at last the poor children are found 
 seated upon their heels, which is neither a pretty nor a 
 comfortable position. Between ourselves, it is very cruel 
 to keep these little creatures too long upon their knees, 
 whether it is done by way of punishment or to teach 
 them to pray to the good God, who, I am sure, never 
 requires that the body shall be suffering whilst the heart 
 is ascending to Him. The Prie-Dieu has been invented 
 
160 ATTITUDES. 
 
 for the relief of the extensors of the femur during the 
 time devoted to prayer ; they permit the body, by lean- 
 ing with the arms upon the back of the chair, to advance 
 its base of support in front. The centre of gravity is 
 thus enabled to fall beyond the knee without any risk, 
 and the toes no longer need to be doubled up under part 
 of the weight of the body. 
 
 Lastly comes the attitude of complete rest. The earth 
 can ask nothing more from a man who is lying down ; he 
 has fully yielded to its attraction. God forbid that I 
 should say a word against the horizontal line so dear to 
 lazy persons, and so welcome to diligent ones when their 
 strength is exhausted. Ungrateful, indeed, would the 
 individual be who could attempt to speak slightingly of 
 it, though we must agree that it is the least glorious of 
 all positions. There is, after all, some glory in small 
 creatures like ourselves being able to resist this large 
 mass of earth, and excusable as we may be when we fin- 
 ish by succumbing to its power, it is not after all less a 
 defeat. 
 
 I have nothing to say to you about this horizontal po- 
 sition. Those who do nothing can have nothing to relate. 
 Our muscles have no more to do after they cease to dis- 
 pute with the earth the weight which we have handed 
 over to it. There is no longer any necessity for main- 
 taining the centre of gravity above its base. The base 
 is everywhere, and the innumerable perpendiculars 
 emanating from all points of the body, abandoned to 
 themselves by the universal fall, are always sure to meet 
 again. By our abdication we avoid all fatigue as well 
 as all danger. It is more certain and more convenient, but, 
 I repeat it again, it is less glorious ; the superabundance 
 of points of support deprives us of all movement. The 
 Hindoos, who neither pride themselves upon their energy 
 
ATTITUDES. 161 
 
 nor their self-love, have a proverb to express this cow- 
 ardly state of blessedness arising from the absence of 
 struggle and movement : " It is better to sit than to stand, 
 to lie down than to sit," and they add, " to die than to 
 lie down." They should begin with the latter. Those 
 who prefer life to death would do well to reverse the 
 proverb. 
 
 Now, do not let this prevent your going to bed will- 
 ingly the instant your mother tells you, my dear child. 
 Human weakness has rights which it would be imprudent 
 not to recognize, and it would never do for you to feel 
 it a humiliation to be obliged to rest yourself. Even 
 nations must rest sometimes. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 
 
 BEFORE I speak to you of our different movements, I 
 must say a word or two upon movement in general, and 
 the laws by which it is governed, otherwise you would 
 be unable to understand the subject properly. 
 
 As far as we know, we occupy the highest place in 
 the scale of animal existence, and it is with some de- 
 gree of pride that we call ourselves kings of the crea- 
 tion, of course of the terrestrial creation. We must not, 
 however, think too highly of our royalty, inasmuch as 
 those among us who are really kings are subject like 
 the rest of us to the ordinary conditions of human life, 
 suffering in their turn just like simple mortals, so the 
 kings of creation are subjected to the same laws which 
 act on everything below them. The matter of which 
 our body is composed obeys these governing laws with 
 the same exactitude that everything else does, and the 
 laws of its movements are the very same as those which 
 regulate the movement of stones. You need not feel 
 offended at this, for they are the same laws also 
 which govern the motions of the stars. Nothing is 
 insignificant in their sight, nothing too important. They 
 are divine, and it can be no disgrace to any one to obey 
 them. 
 
 All bodies therefore, our own included, are of them- 
 selves incapable of movement ; they are alike unable to 
 impart or remove their motive power. It is in some sort 
 (162) 
 
MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 163 
 
 a guest lodging within them who goes out and comes in 
 at will, without the host being able to interfere. 
 
 Motion is change, the result of the action which 
 different forces exercise over bodies. I am almost afraid 
 of explaining to you what a force is, lest I should in 
 any way puzzle you regarding a term the sense of which 
 ought to be so very clear to your mind. Besides, we 
 have already made use of the word several times with- 
 out any explanation. The power by which the earth 
 draws toward it whatever would fly from it is a force. 
 The energetic contraction of the muscles, bending or 
 straightening our limbs in obedience to the will is a force. 
 The spring that relaxes in order to repel whatever it 
 encounters in its progress, is a force, and certainly a 
 very, important force, since it is the one that propels our 
 balls and our bullets, and causes our steam-engines to 
 work. All these forces determine the movements 
 required for the bodies on which they act. Try to find 
 me a body capable of movement, without a power to 
 set it in motion. You will never succeed in doing so. 
 
 I am going to tell you something that will appear 
 very strange to you at first, but which you will soon 
 understand ; it is this, that when once a force has set a 
 body in motion, though the force should suddenly be 
 withdrawn, as is the case with a contracted muscle when 
 it becomes relaxed, the body would always continue in 
 motion, if the effect produced upon it were not destroyed 
 by other forces acting in a contrary direction. Thus 
 when you jump in order to cross a ditch, if some magic 
 power were to transport you suddenly far from the earth 
 into the void of space, this little insignificant bound 
 would impel you onward indefinitely, and you would be- 
 come a little star carried away, like your fellow stars, in 
 an endless course. 
 
164 MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 
 
 This makes you smile, but just reflect for a moment. 
 What makes you alight upon the ground after being 
 lifted from off it ? It is the ever-jealous earth recalling 
 you to it : you understand it all now. If the earth were 
 not there to recall you, what would there be to stop 
 your course ? One would be rich all one's life with a 
 halfpenny in one's pocket, provided there were never 
 any occasion to spend it ; with a jump such as yours you 
 would continue moving forever, if nothing came in the 
 way to neutralise it. 
 
 You will perhaps not have noticed a remark I recently 
 made, " Far from the earth in the void of space." I had 
 my reasons for employing the word void in my supposi- 
 tion. No charity can equal that possessed by bodies when 
 in motion. They cannot meet with other bodies and 
 not share equally whatever movement they have derived 
 from their motive power. It seems as if they always 
 carry their provisions with them, and distribute them as 
 they journey along. 
 
 Only this charity is not capricious and arbitrary, like 
 ours. Bodies have not the same freedom that souls 
 have ; everything connected with them is regulated by 
 fixed, inexorable laws. These are called mathematical 
 laws, and we must have recourse to our arithmetic to 
 enable me to explain in what manner this compulsory 
 division of movement is accomplished. 
 
 A boy with twenty pennies in his pocket meets a 
 party of nineteen poor fellows whose purses are all empty, 
 he gives a penny to each, and at once all are equal. 
 You can fancy how such a game would soon ruin the 
 richest man in the world. Well, this is the game that 
 bodies play ; when a boy, who has received his New Year's 
 gifts, meets a group of poor children who have had no 
 presents, that is to say, when a small body set in motion 
 
MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 165 
 
 by a force meets with a large immovable body, it scat- 
 ters its' abundance through the whole mass. When a 
 party of wealthy people meets with a poor boy, that is to 
 say, when a large body set in motion encounters a small 
 one at rest, they subscribe among themselves, and give 
 to the new comer a share equal to each of theirs, and if 
 many new comers fall in their way, the whole band will 
 eventually be ruined. 
 
 Now the atoms of air in the midst of which we exist 
 are as many minute bodies, and your little person, 
 unimposing as it may appear in the eyes of the world, 
 is a very formidable colossus when compared to them. 
 But as, in your transit through the air, you would be 
 continually called upon to distribute some of the provis- 
 ion you had received, however minute the part bestowed 
 on each of these atoms might be, so little would at last be 
 left to yourself that it would not be worth speaking 
 about. You see my supposing you placed in the void 
 in order to insure the perpetuity of your celestial course 
 was not amiss, and in fact the heavenly bodies do assur- 
 edly traverse space ; nothing is more certain. 
 
 But all this is merely a supposition ; a chimera im- 
 possible to be realized. Nothing can rescue terrestrial 
 bodies from the action of the immense globe on which 
 they rest. Let me tell you what happens when any power 
 robs them of its attraction for one single moment. 
 
 It is a long time ago, and yet I recollect it as vividly 
 as if it had happened only yesterday. I was at school, 
 and was very fond of amusement, and a great player at 
 ball ; a most wholesome recreation for boys, and one I 
 would gladly recommend to you, were it not that you 
 are unfitted for this game owing to certain peculiarities 
 connected with your clavicle, which I have already ex- 
 plained to you. It was a great delight to me to throw 
 
166 MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 
 
 my ball with all my might high into the air, so that I 
 might catch it in my hand as it fell, without changing 
 place. It was always a fresh cause of wonder to me to 
 see it go up with such rapidity at first, then gradually 
 slacken its speed, then stop and remain immovable for 
 an instant, just as if held in the air by some invisible 
 hand, and afterward begin to come down slowly, as if 
 with regret, accelerating its speed little by little, and at 
 last falling into my hand with a rapidity which at that 
 time appeared perfectly startling. A big boy, a philoso- 
 pher, as those youths were termed who were admitted 
 to the dignified lectures on physics, one day told me 
 that the ball, on reaching my hand, had precisely the 
 same rapidity as it had on leaving it, and sorely did I 
 rack my brain in the hope of discovering a satisfactory 
 reason for so strange a problem. It is very simple. 
 
 You know the story of the Wandering Jew and his five 
 halfpence, the most substantially rich man on record, 
 because no matter how frequently he distributed his half- 
 pence, the full sum was always to be found in his purse. 
 Now instead of this Jew's inexhaustible store, let your 
 imagination suppose a large bag swelled out by five 
 thousand halfpence, but devoid of all magic charm, and 
 the possessor obliged to give away five of the halfpence 
 at each step he takes ; if he takes a thousand steps, it is 
 quite clear that when he reaches the thousandth he will 
 have nothing left. The bag will not be worth as much 
 as the unpretending yet never-empty purse of Ahasuerus. 
 But supposing the owner of the bag, on retracing his 
 steps received five halfpence at each step he takes, he 
 will, on arriving at the thousandth, naturally have pre- 
 cisely the same amount as at the commencement of his 
 journey ; viz., five thousand pence. This is too clear to 
 require any explanation. 
 
MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 167 
 
 It is the history of the ball thrown straight up into the 
 air. The impetus given it on leaving the school-boy's 
 hands was given once for all ; no matter what is ex- 
 pended, nothing will be renewed, any more than a young 
 man who has extravagantly run through his patrimony 
 can at the same time spend his money and keep it. It 
 proceeds from one of those forces called spontaneous, 
 because their action is only felt during a very brief 
 moment.* The attraction exercised over the ball by the 
 earth in an opposite direction is, on the contrary, a con- 
 tinued force. This is the term employed. Its power is 
 as constantly expended and restored as the halfpence of 
 the Wandering Jew. You are aware that when two 
 opposing bodies meet, the stronger can only gain the' 
 victory by leaving a portion of itself equal to its rival 
 upon the field of contest. A word, however, may be said 
 in favor of these combats. They are in accordance 
 with justice, and the majority would reverence the 
 minority a little more than they do, if the latter could 
 only be suppressed upon these conditions. But what am 
 I talking of, my dear child ? Majority and minority are 
 alike matters of indifference to you ; why is not this the 
 case with the whole world ? 
 
 To return to our ball, however, it can only ascend by 
 paying a ransom to the earth, that is to say, by sacrifi- 
 cing a portion of its motive power equal to the force of 
 attraction it has to overcome ; so, as this is a continuous 
 power, no sooner overthrown than it is again to be found 
 at its post, ever ready for combat, the ransom becomes 
 an incessant one, and the impetus given to it gradually 
 
 * In tins instance, the spontaneous power is the sudden contrac- 
 tion of the muscles directing the arm upward, which, from being kept 
 in check by its numerous guardians, conveys its impetus to the 
 ball, so that it voluntarily leaves the hand at the moment the latter 
 re-opens, to allow it to escape. 
 
168 MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 
 
 diminishing, the ball consequently slackens its speed in 
 proportion, until the period arrives for the last payment 
 to be made. Then comes a time of rest, a brief moment 
 during which the little remaining power makes a last 
 effort, in order once more to overthrow the obstinate 
 force of attraction ; finally, this power of attraction, 
 henceforth without a rival, seizes the fugitive, leads it back 
 triumphantly, though slowly at first, for it is modest on 
 setting out. But as the impetus of the ball was always 
 on the decrease during the ascent, it will continue to in- 
 crease with the descent ; the cause of the increase in the 
 latter instance will be precisely the same as that of the 
 decrease in the former. The increase and decrease of 
 the rapidity are alike measured by this continuous force, 
 which is ever being renewed, and which at length attains 
 to a point where there is no longer any antagonist to 
 neutralise it as fast as it is produced. The money-bag 
 on its return home becomes replenished with exactly the 
 same amount it possessed at the commencement of its 
 journey, and the ball returns to its starting-point with 
 precisely the same motive power with which it was 
 charged at the onset. 
 
 I hope you begin to feel a little at home with these 
 laws of motion, which perhaps seemed somewhat alarm- 
 ing at first. They are not more formidable than any 
 other study, especially when not pursued too far, and 
 when we are satisfied, as at present, to understand all 
 thoroughly as we go along. I will only ask your atten- 
 tion for another moment, and then pass to something else. 
 
 I spoke to you a short time ago of the ball quitting 
 the hand involuntarily, being projected into the air by 
 muscles which, most happily for us, retain the arm in its 
 proper place. In a similar manner I was once involun- 
 tarily pitched out of a carriage, the horse of which taking 
 
MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 169 
 
 fright, galloped off as if it were mad, and then suddenly 
 came to a stand-still ; and I can assure you, from personal 
 experience, that the law of motion that caused the ball 
 to ascend so quickly treated my royal person in the most 
 unceremonious manner. I found myself seated upon the 
 ground, having gone over the horse's head, before I had 
 time to think what had occurred. 
 
 This cavalier law is the selfsame as that which throws 
 you violently to the ground, when you attempt to alight 
 from a carriage moving rapidly. Your parents must re- 
 member a fatal accident that took place in Paris above 
 twenty years ago. I refer to the death of a prince called 
 the Duke of Orleans, who, had he not fallen a sacrifice 
 to an accident of this kind, would probably now have 
 been on the French throne. 
 
 When you are in a railway carriage, you experience 
 no particular sensation ; nevertheless, you have within 
 you a force capable of killing you if you gave it an 
 opportunity of revealing its presence. Everything in 
 that train is carried along by one and the same 
 movement j if it travel a.t the rate of 'thirty miles an 
 hour, you may consider yourself a projectile impelled at 
 this speed. As all that surounds you is travelling with 
 you at the same time and at the same speed, there is 
 nothing to make you sensible of the enormous amount of 
 motive force you possess, and thus you travel up and 
 down the line, devoid of apprehension. 
 
 If two trains were running along side by side at an 
 equal speed, you would be able to jump fearlessly from 
 one to the other, the speed of the carriage you jumped 
 into being precisely the same as the speed of the one 
 you quitted. Your own speed would consequently 
 undergo no change, it would be exactly as if you jumped 
 from one end to the other of the same carriage. 
 8 
 
170 MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 
 
 But you must never think of jumping out of a car in 
 motion. The terrible thirty-miles-an-hour movement 
 that is carrying you along, having no cause for relaxing, 
 will continue to impel you forward, so that, when your 
 feet touch the ground, which is immovable, your body 
 will be hurled forward with a violence sufficient to break 
 your bones. 
 
 If the train were to be suddenly stopped by any in- 
 superable obstacle, this merciless motion would show 
 you no favor. Your body would continue moving, at 
 the risk of being dashed against the sides of the car. 
 The same law would also hold good with the cars them- 
 selves under similar circumstances. When the engine 
 meets with an impediment, the cars at the end of the train 
 continue their course, regardless of the obstruction ; thus 
 they may be seen mounted one upon another, mutually 
 spreading destruction amongst themselves and the poor 
 passengers inside. 
 
 When I spoke of the earth as immovable, bear in mind 
 that I only made use of the term in comparing it with 
 the movement of the train. Whilst you are seated in 
 your chair by your mother's side, you are as safe as any 
 little girl can possibly be, utterly unconscious of all 
 chance of harm. Yet there is within you at this present 
 moment what would kill you at least a thousand times 
 over, could the supposition I am about to make be 
 realised. This earth, which you would say is so immov- 
 able, is carried along in its course around the sun at a 
 speed of about twenty miles a second, if we are quite 
 accurate, and take in the fractions, which would make a 
 great addition to the speed at which our trains run. 
 Now you naturally share in this frightful impetus, just 
 as much as if it were a carriage, and what is more, every 
 single thing on the earth also shares it with you. What 
 
MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 171 
 
 a catastrophe, then, its cessation for one single instant 
 would involve ! Can you in any degree conceive the 
 result? Why, you, the house, this city even, would 
 disappear, like so much chaff before the wind. Your 
 plight would be far worse than mine when I was hurled 
 out of the carriage. 
 
 I leave you with this idea, which is calculated to in- 
 spire you with respect for the laws by which the world 
 is governed, and I pass on to our insignificant movements. 
 You are now sufficiently acquainted with the subject to 
 admit of my giving you their history. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE MOVEMENTS (Continued.) 
 
 WHEN a drill-sergeant teaches his recruits to march, 
 and gives the word of command, " Forward, march," etc., 
 at the word " Forward," he makes them stand with the 
 left foot carried well to the front, raised from the ground. 
 This is called dividing the step. We are also going to 
 do the same. 
 
 Stand perfectly upright, your two feet drawn together 
 in line, as the unarmed soldier does, and remember you 
 have to advance your left" foot first. Your body imper- 
 ceptibly balances itself, and your centre of gravity is 
 immediately transported to the line of your right leg, 
 which has, for the moment, to support your whole weight. 
 The left leg, relieved from duty, bends at first, thanks 
 to the action of the flexors, which raise it from the 
 ground by contracting it ; then the extensors straighten 
 it and carry it forward. This is the first half of the 
 movement. 
 
 At the word of command, " March," the centre of 
 gravity at once passes to the right leg, the body bends 
 toward the extended foot, which falls to the ground, 
 and you have made a step. You see it is a very simple 
 affair. 
 
 The body, now balancing on the left foot, lifts up the 
 
 heel of the right one, which, touching the ground only 
 
 by the toes, is quite ready io move. The flexors raise 
 
 it, the extensors throw it forward. The centre of gra- 
 
 (172) 
 
MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 173 
 
 vity returns to it : it falls, and the whole process recom- 
 mences. You can walk thirty miles in this way, pro- 
 vided your legs are sufficiently strong. 
 
 Thus you see, as I have already told you, that the 
 flexors and extensors kindly divide the work, and you 
 understand, do you not ? how it is less fatiguing to walk 
 than to stand still, a simple fact, which many people will 
 hardly be convinced of. It is not, however, the less 
 true, that every step we take is a fall, and that it is only 
 by a succession of falls that we are able to advance. 
 This is by no means flattering to our vanity, but what 
 does that signify if we really make progress ? 
 
 This continual oscillation of the centre of gravity, 
 which perpetually changes from one leg to the other, 
 gives a regular motion to the body while walking, 
 especially observable in sailors, who, accustomed to 
 walk upon movable floors, instinctively walk with their 
 legs considerably apart, so as to enlarge their basis of 
 support. Consequently, on shore, they have a rolling 
 walk, which is far from being graceful, and as by sepa- 
 rating their legs their steps are shorter, the result natu- 
 rally is, that sailors are in general bad walkers. But 
 they resume their superiority at sea, and those who walk 
 well on shore would be only too happy when on the 
 deep, and in a ship which rolls with the waves, to pos- 
 sess the sailor's free step. 
 
 Another consequence of this oscillating movement is, 
 that the right side of the body, being habitually stronger 
 than the left, and thus at every step gaining an additional 
 impulse in advance of the other side, we should, without 
 knowing it, if the eye did not guide us, walk obliquely 
 toward the left, to continue the language of the drill- 
 sergeant, language which does not require explanation. 
 For this reason, nicely would he be taken in, who, walk- 
 
174 MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 
 
 ing in the dark, fancied he was keeping in a straight 
 line. 
 
 This brings to my mind a souvenir of my youth a long 
 grass-plat in the Park at Versailles, called the " tapis 
 vert " (green carpet), and which is in front of the lake 
 known as " La piece d'eau des Suisses :" all who frequent 
 the gardens at Versailles must be well acquainted with it. 
 I do not know if the Parisians of the present day keep 
 up this game of the golden age, but formerly it was not 
 uncommon on fete days to see the good folks set off, with 
 their eyes bandaged, from one end of the tapis vert, 
 with the intention of walking to the other end. And it 
 was seldom, indeed, that any one succeeded. The igno- 
 rant, going where the right side shoots out, found 
 themselves all at once on the sidewalk to the left ; the 
 knowing ones, who had heard that the danger lay in 
 going to the left, forcibly turned from that side, and 
 arrived victoriously at the sidewalk to the right ! So 
 true it is that there is nothing like seeing clearly for 
 keeping you on the straight path, and that a blind guide 
 is always a bad one. 
 
 What I lately told you about the kindly division of 
 labor between the flexors and extensors only holds good 
 whilst walking upon level ground : the moment you be- 
 gin to climb, this equality disappears ; then it was only 
 necessary for the body to proceed from one fall to an- 
 other, now it has to foe lifted up at every step, and of 
 this the poor extensors have the whole burden. 
 
 Observe as you go up stairs : 
 
 As soon as you have placed one foot on the first step, 
 the foot left behind, below its companion, 'does as you 
 do when measuring your height with a friend who is 
 taller than you are, it rises on the point, elevating its 
 own side as well as it can, to put itself on a level with 
 
MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 175 
 
 the other. This work is performed by the extensors of 
 the foot. They are in the calf of the leg, as you know, 
 and their contraction draws up our old friend the cal- 
 caneum, or heel-bone, which in rising pushes the tibia 
 before it, with all which it supports. At this moment 
 the body is carried forward on the more advanced leg, 
 which, by stiffening, thanks to the extensors, completely 
 raises it up. On this occasion it is above the knee 
 where the work is done, and if you place your hand 
 there at this moment, you will feel how rigid the muscles 
 of the fibres become, in order to replace the tibia and 
 the femur on the same level. 
 
 What renders the effort more necessary is, that the 
 centre of gravity must be drawn, cost what it may, on 
 to this line, for it is the moment when the foot lowest 
 down the stair is about to be raised from the ground to 
 join its companion ; and the same thing takes place 
 whether you ascend by single steps, or, as some big girls 
 do, by two at a time. The same series of efforts recom- 
 mences at every step ; and if your room happens to be 
 on the sixth story, you will probably feel rather tired 
 on arriving there. Now, where do you feel this fatigue, 
 if you please ? Even if you did not know by experience, 
 you could guess it from what we have just told you. It 
 is in the calf, and the knee, but more especially in the 
 latter, since here the greatest strain is made on the centre 
 of gravity. Moreover, the upper part of the body re- 
 quires to bend well forward, to render the operation 
 easier, and in ascending a mountain a person naturally 
 assumes this position, without it being necessary to tell 
 him to do so ; in fact, if the ascent is very long, he will 
 at last almost bend himself double. Try to go up stairs 
 whilst holding yourself very upright ; your knee will 
 bitterly complain before you have reached the first story ; 
 
176 MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 
 
 or, rather, be prudent take my word for it and do 
 not try. The least accident which would retard the 
 centre of gravity, after losing its support below, would 
 make you fall backward, and your mother would never 
 forgive me. 
 
 Well ! you are up stairs at last ; now you have to go 
 down again. Here the extensors of the calf and knee 
 have only playwork to do it is a mere nothing that is 
 required of them. It is gravitation that manages the 
 whole, and, if allowed, the work would progress only 
 too rapidly. One may truly say of this movement, that 
 one advances by a series of falls, and the only effort 
 necessary is to see that the centre of gravity does not 
 advance further forward than the feet. You may have 
 seen coachmen, when driving down a steep hill, pulling 
 back the reins to hold in the horses. The coachman 
 in this instance is the bundle of strong muscles we 
 have in our loins ; they are placed just behind the steed, 
 who would like nothing better than to break away and 
 they contract right over him, to bring him back to them. 
 The upper part of the body, which a short time ago 
 bent forward, in order to assist the loins, now bends 
 back, to aid them in taking its weight upon themselves. 
 And I would still less advise you to try putting your 
 head forward while descending the stairs, than leaning 
 it back while ascending. I really do not know why I 
 have spoken to you about this, as I am very sure you 
 never thought of doing such a thing. 
 
 You may, however, possibly have thought of running 
 down stairs ; if so, I beg of you never again to do it. 
 Remember how very tyrannical are the laws of motion 
 over bodies once on the move. Your own body, after it 
 is set going, no longer belongs to you. You may have 
 the misfortune to lose your equilibrium by a mere trifle, 
 
MOVEMENTS OP THE HUMAN BODY. 177 
 
 and, instead of stopping to give you time to recover 
 yourself, the motion within you, indifferent as to whether 
 your arms or legs are broken, carries the little machine 
 rolling down to the foot of the staircase, always accele- 
 rating its speed, like the ball falling to the ground ; and 
 if you are bruised on arriving at the bottom step, whose 
 fault is it? 
 
 But we will not think of this any longer. A sensible 
 girl, who knows the laws of motion and their pitiless 
 rigour, will avoid trifling with them, or fail in paying 
 the respect she owes to her centre of gravity, by making 
 it gallop when it simply wishes to walk. 
 
 We say then that the work is performed by the loins 
 when we descend. You cannot therefore wonder that 
 the loins are tired when you have been walking down- 
 hill for a long time. The calves of the leg and knees, on 
 the contrary, which have had nothing to do, are fresh and 
 active, and a person who reaches the base of a mountain, 
 worn out with fatigue, is quite surprised, if he does not 
 know the reason, at finding himself rested as if by magic 
 on the level road, although he is still walking. He has 
 changed horses, like a post-chaise, and these are fresh 
 steeds which carry him on. 
 
 One word more about the step. If your papa has 
 sometimes let you ride upon his knee, you must be ac- 
 quainted with the three different paces, trot, canter, gal- 
 lop. It is about the last of these three that I am going 
 to speak. The gallop is done by lengthening the step as 
 much as possible. You will perhaps recollect that before 
 long your knees and calves grew very tired, just as if 
 you were climbing. Do you know why this was ? It 
 was simply because you were climbing the whole time. 
 
 Take your scissors, and make them go through the 
 three steps, first the trot, opening the points a very little 
 8* 
 
178 MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 
 
 way, then the canter, opening them a little wider, then 
 the gallop, opening them as wide as you can. In pro- 
 portion to the separation between the two points, you 
 will notice that the scissors descend. This is precisely 
 what you do when you stretch out your legs ; your height 
 is depressed, and as you take back your full stature each 
 time the legs are brought to the same level, the muscles 
 which have the care of raising the body have exactly the 
 same duty to perform as when you walk up-stairs. 
 
 I have taken a long time to teach one, my dear little 
 child, who can trot along so well as you can, how to walk. 
 When you are older you will hear of a celebrated writer 
 of comedies named Moliere, who was also a great philo- 
 sopher, although he used to philosophise in a jesting 
 manner, which, after all, is not a bad way of doing. 
 Whilst telling you all this, I am forcibly reminded of a 
 character in one of Moliere's plays, a Monsieur Jourdain, 
 who is told how he pronounces a and o and re and da 
 and fa, and he is delighted at the information, but, as his 
 servant says, he speaks none the better for it, and I ask 
 myself whether I have not been playing the part of this 
 individual's master of philosophy toward you. 
 
 It is very certain that the first time you tumble, all . 
 the notions I have just given you about the centre of 
 gravity, etc., will be of little use in helping you, but one 
 would be very wrong if one only cared to see an imme- 
 diate use for what we learn. Knowledge is not always 
 available. We cannot eat it, it will not clothe us, we 
 cannot put it in a shop for sale, nor can we shut it up in 
 a box, or make a present of it ; nevertheless, without it 
 what would become of us ? To accustom one's self to 
 understand clearly what one does is one of the most use- 
 ful things in the world. I have already said, that it is 
 the true way to walk erect through life : you have not 
 
MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 179 
 
 yet attained to this point, but you will do so some day ; 
 and, setting aside all other considerations, you will not 
 be sorry, when you have little children of your own to 
 teach to walk, that you understand how they learn to 
 take their first steps. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE MOVEMENTS (Continued.) 
 
 IF I had a scholar fifty years of age, I should scarcely 
 require to proceed further with the history of the move- 
 ments. The explanation of the step would no doubt be 
 sufficient for his special use. But with a young lady, 
 who is continually running and jumping, I can scarcely 
 stop there. Running and jumping are both interesting 
 subjects, of which it would be a pity not to speak. 
 
 Running is properly speaking, merely a series of suc- 
 cessive leaps. I must therefore begin by speaking of 
 leaping. 
 
 Would you like to see with your own eyes how a leap 
 is made? It is very easy. I will teach you a game 
 which amused me when I was well, I will not say how 
 old. 
 
 Take a strip of rather firm paper, and roll it between 
 your fingers into the form of a tube. This tube will be 
 composed of a series of spiral rings which you can 
 tighten or loosen at will. Leave them sufficiently loose 
 to slip one within another, press the tube on the table, 
 holding it by the top, and when it has become quite short, 
 like a shut-up telescope, open your fingers suddenly ; the 
 tube will then jump into the air, and rise pretty high, 
 provided you manage this cleverly.* 
 
 What renders it so active ? 
 
 * By drying the tube thoroughly, either near the fire or in the 
 sun, it can be made to jump to a far greater height. 
 
 (180) 
 
MOVEMENTS OP THE HUMAN BODY. 181 
 
 It is the elasticity of the spiral rings, which are like 
 so many compressed springs. They make an effort to 
 return to their former position, and when you open your 
 fingers, which hold the tube captive, taking the table, 
 which repels them, as the basis of support, they dart 
 forth, carrying the plaything into the air. 
 
 Kecollect now what you do, when you wish to jump 
 with both feet together. You begin by bending your 
 loins and knees as much as you can. This is the work 
 of the flexors, and you represent the little shut-up tube. 
 Then all at once the extensors come into play, the 
 body draws itself up quickly while pressing the ground, 
 and the motion thus given launches you into the air, 
 exactly as if you were a strip of paper. 
 
 Only, as comparisons can never be exact between 
 things so very different as your body and our little pa- 
 per toy, the spring which carried you forward is much 
 more complicated. 
 
 Bend one of the bits of whalebone, always to be found 
 in a lady's dress, by the two ends, in the form of a bow, 
 and then suddenly let go the bone will dart forward, 
 dragged on by the two ends, which hasten to resume 
 their natural position. 
 
 We have a bow in us which straightens itself when 
 we leap. It is the vertebral column. Mark well what 
 you do in this case. You not only bend your limbs, but 
 also your body, and both straighten themselves at the 
 same time, the moment you spring. The vertebral arch 
 then makes a start, the rebound of which acts upon 
 the loins, just behind the centre of gravity, which it 
 propels forward. 
 
 But this is not all. 
 
 What do you do when you want to jump a little dis- 
 tance ? You first balance your arms backward and for- 
 
182 MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 
 
 ward several times, and then throw them forward with 
 all your strength, at the very moment you make your 
 spring. 
 
 What have you now done ? 
 
 You have called to your assistance that terrible law 
 of motion which smashes a railway train if stopped sud- 
 denly ; you have developed in the upper part of your 
 body, by balancing your arms, the germ of movement, if 
 I may thus express myself. It becomes serious when 
 you throw your arms forward, and all the body works 
 together from head to foot to carry itself forward be- 
 low, by the stiffening and straightening of the legs ; in 
 the middle, by the vertebral column ; in the upper part 
 by the jerk of the arms, which draw on the shoulders, as 
 a pair of horses draw a carriage forward. 
 
 How many things are connected with a little leap of 
 two or three feet ! But, my dear child, this involves a 
 fact of much more serious import than the act of walk- 
 ing. There you struggle, it is true, against that tyrrani- 
 cal love of the earth, which wishes to have you whether 
 you will or no. But you struggle whilst making the earth 
 your support, and the feet are responsible for the rest of 
 the body, of which they bear all the weight. Here 
 you perform an absolutely independent act ; you aban- 
 don every basis of support in effecting the movement, 
 and it requires the unanimous concurrence of every 
 member of a body as heavy as yours is, if you wish 
 to shake off the yoke entirely. Try to jump while 
 throwing your arms back, and you will see whether the 
 lower part of your body could go far without the assis- 
 tance of the upper part. I do not propose that you 
 should try to jump by throwing the upper part of your 
 body forward without taking any trouble about the 
 lower part. It is quite clear one might manage in this 
 
MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 183 
 
 way to break one's nose, and, in short, no one ever 
 thought of trying it. 
 
 But we have not yet done with leaping. 
 
 Have you ever seen people dance on the tight-rope ? 
 I ask you this question, because it is an art which is 
 gradually disappearing, notwithstanding the feats of its 
 latest performers ; nor is this, in my opinion, to be re- 
 gretted. These artists at all times enjoy a singular 
 privilege. They spring in the air much higher than 
 other people, their bodies straight as an arrow, without 
 apparently owing anything to the vertebral arch or to 
 the extensors. Still, assuredly, they are not sorcerers ; 
 for these no longer exist. 
 
 Another agent is here at work, as well as the body. 
 The rope on which the dancer jails gives way with his 
 weight, and then it also rights itself in its turn. The 
 shock which it gives to the feet resting on it, when it 
 straightens again, sends the dancer back into the air, 
 as it would throw back a beam that might fall upon 
 it in place of him. Henceforth there is nothing more 
 to do, and the springs succeed one another without 
 further fatigue to the artist, except that of scrupulously 
 maintaining the centre of gravity vertical with the 
 cord. Besides, this is quite enough to attend to, when 
 one considers the unpleasant prospect the poor man 
 has before him, if he miss his mark. I do not sympa- 
 thise with people who are pleased with this kind of 
 amusement. 
 
 Whilst we are speaking of feats of strength, I must 
 explain those wonderful springs to you that are made at 
 the circus, to the great amazement of the simple, and by 
 which a man can jump over a platoon of soldiers shoul- 
 dering arms, with fixed bayonets. These are called the 
 exercises of the spring-board and what then is a spring- 
 
184 MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 
 
 board ? It is a flexible plank, elevated at one end, upon 
 which the jumper falls from above, when he wishes to 
 astonish the spectators by making a marvellous leap. 
 The plank acts like the dancer's tight rope, and all 
 the honor of the feat would be due to it, if it were 
 not also necessary that the human projectile should 
 know how to make use of it. We must be just to 
 every one. 
 
 You also, my little friend, without being one whit 
 more knowing than the heroes of the circus, you make 
 much less preparation for a jump, and you jump much 
 further into the bargain, when you take a run before 
 you spring, and the reason of this is quite simple. Grav- 
 itation and motion are, as I have often told you, two 
 rival powers which dispute the body, and, whenever one 
 establishes itself, the other disappears, or, to speak more 
 correctly, is annulled ; for it is a tenacious guest, and 
 will not allow itself to be turned out of doors. In run- 
 ning, you put yourself in motion, and this motion would 
 carry you on alone quite well if the feet stopped sud- 
 denly. You had some experience of this, when foolishly 
 racing with your little" friends through the beds of the 
 kitchen garden ; your feet became entangled in the gar- 
 dener's measuring-line, and your head continuing its 
 course, without asking your leave, popped into a bed of 
 lettuce, which, happily for you, had been newly weeded. 
 He, then, who springs while in the act of running, already 
 possesses an acquired speed, as it is called, almost suffi- 
 cient to effect the leap ; he has, as it were, only to strike 
 the earth with his foot to enable him to take flight. And 
 now see what is to be gained by bestirring one's self. 
 One gathers strength while journeying along. 
 
 After all, running is, as I have already told you, mere- 
 ly a succession of jumps. It essentially differs from 
 
MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 185 
 
 walking, since, in the running step, the foot left behind 
 leaves the ground before the one in front has secured its 
 basis of support ; the body therefore finds itself, as in 
 jumping, supported in the air by the power of motion 
 alone. This rapid pace can naturally only be acquired by 
 considerable effort. I have told you before, when speak- 
 ing of the " work of the organs," * how much the heart 
 and lungs are engaged at such times, and how they will 
 at last succumb to their task when the race becomes too 
 prolonged. It is on this account that good runners, 
 when they wish to accomplish a long distance, throw 
 their shoulders well back, and straighten the upper part 
 of the body, so as to enlarge the chest by widening the 
 ribs, and thus securing the action of their muscles, by 
 rendering the basis to which they look for support as 
 firm as possible. 
 
 There is also another reason for drawing back the 
 shoulders, a reason which is instinctively felt by the 
 greatest novice in the art of running. We have seen in 
 the chapter on " the Attitudes,' 7 the watchfulness which 
 must be ever in exercise over the centre of gravity, 
 always so imprudently inclined to cross the barrier be- 
 yond which lies a fall. This temptation is much strong- 
 er when the body, carried forward by its rapid career in 
 the direction of danger, seems only, as one may say, to 
 skim the ground with the ends of the toes. I beg you 
 to notice, if you have not already done so, that we never 
 place the foot flat upon the ground in running, as we do 
 in walking ; this would occupy too much time. It falls 
 on the toes to rebound immediately. Those persons who 
 in ordinary life feel that they are not well protected, re- 
 double their precautions, and the body does the same in 
 running. It throws itself backward, and while I call 
 * See " History of a Mouthful of Bread," p. 200. 
 
188 MOVEMENTS OP THE HUMAN BODY. 
 
 your attention to these things, notice them yourself when 
 you run. The faster you go, the more your head and 
 shoulders bend backward, to counterpoise the lower part 
 of your body, whose chance of losing its equilibrium in- 
 creases with the rapidity of the race. 
 
 It is also to act as a counterpoise that our arms swing 
 backward and forward with 'an inverse motion to our 
 legs, the arm at one side going back at the same moment 
 that the leg of the same side comes forward. An equil- 
 ibrium is thus more easily maintained, and the centre 
 point of gravity, which governs the whole, is brought 
 back each time to the basis which it cannot abandon 
 without ruin to the edifice. 
 
 You see that in order to run many precautions have 
 to be adopted. Nature takes them for us when we are 
 ignorant of them, and, quite unknown to us, our body 
 arranges itself as the laws which rule it desire. But 
 this does not dispense with our becoming acquainted 
 with these laws. A mind that has any respect for 
 itself would feel ashamed to know less than the mere in- 
 strument of its will. 
 
 There are many things I could still tell you, my dear 
 child, about the working of this " walking machine/ 7 1 
 cannot return to our old term without a feeling of pleas- 
 ure, the study of which has already occupied so much 
 time, and cost so much trouble, at least, to myself. I 
 trust it has not been the same with you. All things 
 considered, I think enough has been said. If I should 
 try to make you too learned, I should only be laughed 
 at for my pains. Not that this is anything very terrible, 
 we must not always be afraid of being laughed at, but I 
 might perhaps end by wearying you, and of that I am 
 always afraid. 
 
MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY. 187 
 
 You now know from top to bottom the framework of 
 the walls of the house you inhabit, to borrow the expres- 
 sion of an English author, a far more wonderful house 
 than any king's palace, since it walks, and the walls are 
 living. It remains for us to study the more curious 
 part, but unfortunately also the most difficult for the 
 mind to take in ; the power which makes it walk, the in- 
 visible breath which causes its walls to palpitate. We 
 approach the great mystery of life. Most certainly I 
 cannot explain it to you, but you may at least learn 
 in what it consists, and what more can one know of a 
 mystery ? 
 
 Before leaving this world of bones and muscles, whose 
 difficulties appear to me like child's play compared with 
 that on which we are about to enter, I wish you to carry 
 away with you one useful reflection. 
 
 You have observed the solicitude with which your 
 body constantly watches over its equilibrium, how, if I 
 may so express myself, it exercises its wits, how it in- 
 rents, how it endeavors, how it expends science and 
 will to maintain itself erect upon its basis of support. 
 Do not permit your soul to do less to preserve its up- 
 rightness. It is also called to rise toward heaven, and, 
 like the body, it has its struggles to sustain, with the 
 attractions of earth. Pride and earthly yearnings, the 
 lusts and appetites of the flesh, constantly tempt it to 
 stoop to things below ; and it would soon lose sight of 
 the higher regions of honor and devotion, which are its 
 heaven, if it ceased to hold itself steadily on its basis of 
 support. Now this basis allows no one to balance him- 
 self upon it. It is the conscience which we are forbid- 
 den to force, under penalty of rendering it useless. On 
 this account you must pay great attention, and call to 
 your assistance all the helps you possess, in the shape of 
 
188 MOVEMENTS OP THE HUMAN BODY. 
 
 knowledge and will, to keep you straight on the inflex- 
 ible line of conscience. On this account, be indulgent 
 to the faults of others. When a poor man has fallen 
 down on the pavement, every one tries to give him a 
 hand, and if he has hurt himself, every one hastens to 
 lift him up. Do not forget, my child, when you are 
 grown up, that you must deal gently and helpfully with 
 fallen souls, for there are none more deeply to be pitied, 
 since the sorrow they work for themselves is the great- 
 est that can be imagined. 
 
 And in the meantime, endeavor to fall down as seldom 
 as possible, and if any one tumbles near you, whether 
 brother, sister or companion, assist him or her to rise, 
 like a good little girl, without giving yourself any airs ; 
 otherwise take care of yourself, for, however firm you 
 may imagine your equilibrium to be, the centre of grav- 
 ity is always exposed to mischances where the heart is 
 not in the right place. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 ELECTRICITY. 
 
 ELECTRICITY ! You will imagine, in reading this word, 
 that we are losing sight of the subject which we ought 
 next to study ; viz., the nerves and brain. But I have 
 not lost sight of it, I only wish to prepare your mind 
 to comprehend as much as can be comprehended about 
 them. 
 
 I recollect an idea which pleased me greatly, many 
 years ago, when I undertook the duties of Professor of 
 Natural Science to some young ladies. It occurred to 
 me that man, being placed in the highest rank of crea- 
 tion, all its own known laws would naturally centre in 
 him, and he being thus, as it were, an epitome of the 
 whole, the explanation of these laws, as exhibited in 
 him, would make their action elsewhere sufficiently plain. 
 Setting out with this idea in mind, to which I have 
 already alluded in the beginning of the history of the 
 movements, I wished to limit my entire course of natural 
 science to the explanation of the human body, reserving 
 to myself the right of becoming discursive by the way, 
 when it might become necessary to make you understand 
 the phenomena we might meet with. I have been com- 
 pelled to relinquish this plan, because, I acknowledge it 
 without blushing, I have found the execution too difficult 
 for myself, and, I may say, for my pupils also. 
 
 You must have already noticed since we began our 
 conversation on the life of man, that I have often been 
 
 (189) 
 
ELECTRICITY. 
 
 obliged to introduce other topics than the human body, 
 in order not to leave the most interesting points in its 
 history in obscurity. 
 
 Could you have understood anything of the mechan- 
 ism of the lungs, if I had not informed you what was 
 meant by atmospheric pressure ? * or of the results of 
 respiration^ without my little lesson on oxygen, and its 
 marriage with the body ? Did not our study of the sub- 
 ject of animal heat oblige us to make acquaintance with 
 hydrogen and carbon ? and did not the composition of 
 the blood require us to touch on chemistry ? This sub- 
 ject we should have thoroughly explored, had we been 
 capable of doing so. And again, not long ago, in speaking 
 of the movements, we were obliged to branch off into 
 dynamics,! a word that would have frightened your 
 mother on your account if I had let it slip. When we 
 come to describe the eye, we must, whether we like it or 
 no, speak to you of light, and optics,^; as natural philoso- 
 phers term it. When we arrive at the ear, we shall 
 then have to study the laws of sound, or acoustics, as 
 they are called. We shall, however, only touch on 
 these subjects, since that will be sufficient for you : we 
 should go deeper into them if we intended to study them 
 thoroughly. 
 
 You can now see that the study of the human body 
 touches on everything, and that whoever completely 
 masters it, knows all there is to know of physical 
 laws. What I have just said may seem to you a little 
 strong, but it is weak when compared with the expression 
 
 * See " Mouthful of Bread," p. 139. 
 
 f Dynamics in Greek means power. Dynamics is the study o f 
 force, or power with regard to motion effected by it. 
 % From the Greek word " opsis," signifying vision. 
 From the Greek word " acous," I hear. 
 
ELECTRICITY. 191 
 
 of Pascal, where he says, " He who thoroughly under- 
 stands a grain of sand understands the universe." And 
 Pascal was right ; whence I conclude that I need not 
 feel alarmed at the boldness of my own expression. 
 
 But all this will not interest you. Let us now speak 
 of electricity. 
 
 You know the yellow amber used by men as mouth- 
 pieces for their pipes, and by the women of the East for 
 their necklaces, which I fancy would be much admired 
 in our own country, if they were only more expensive. 
 When next you see a piece of this substance, so soft to 
 the eye and touch, I recommend it to your notice, for 
 with it originated the idea of the electric telegraph. 
 Moreover, its own merits sufficiently recommend it to 
 the attention of inquiring minds, for it is one of the an- 
 tiquities of the globe. It is derived from the resin of 
 old pines, which grew long before the era of man, in the 
 forests of the North of Europe, and from time immemo- 
 rial it has been' fished for for it is really a fishery 
 along the shores of the Baltic, the waves of which tear it 
 from its bed, by breaking up the sand beneath which it 
 lies buried. The ancient Greeks, who were intrepid 
 merchants, went to buy it from the savage tribes on the 
 borders of the Vistula and Elbe, by sailing northward 
 from the Euxine Sea,* by the great rivers of Scythia. It 
 is a great pity, we may observe in passing, that not a 
 single record of these expeditions has been preserved, 
 for undoubtedly they must have possessed some. The 
 Greeks were far too fond of narration to lose so good an 
 opportunity. In short, they were well acquainted with 
 amber, and gave it the name of electron. 
 
 * The Euxine Sea of the Greeks is now called the Black Sea, and 
 their Scythia extended over all the steppes of the. south of Rus- 
 sia of the present day. 
 
192 ELECTRICITY. 
 
 Theophrastes, who lived three hundred years before 
 the Christian era, tells us that in his time they had re- 
 cognized a singular property in amber, that of attracting 
 light bodies when it is rubbed. Rub a piece of amber, 
 and then place it near a bit of thread or a fragment of 
 straw, and it will at once fly toward it. This will give 
 you an idea of the trifles which lead men tp great discov- 
 eries, and how often the great laws of nature may, so to 
 speak, lie within reach of man, without his thinking of 
 extending his hand to seize them. He who had dared 
 to announce to the worshippers of Jupiter Tonans* that 
 the mystery of the thunderbolt lay hidden there, in 
 this fragment of straw adhering to a morsel of amber, 
 would most certainly have been taken for a madman in 
 that age, and might perhaps have been invited to drink 
 hemlock, in company with Socrates, the despiser of the 
 gods. Unhappily, they did not think BO much instruction 
 could be concealed in a child's toy, and human science 
 made no advance on this point for two thousand years. 
 
 At length, about the beginning of the seventeenth cen- 
 tury, a man appeared who thought of examining this 
 singular play of the amber and straw, so long considered 
 as merely an insignificant caprice of nature, more accu- 
 rately. It was an English physician, Dr. William Gil- 
 bert, respectfully termed by a learned man of the last 
 century, whose book I have in my hand, the father of 
 modern electricity, and whom we seem to lose sight of, 
 now that his discovery is of world-wide renown. Such 
 ingratitude is by no means uncommon. For my own part, 
 I do not hesitate to rank the day on which the English 
 physician rubbed his first bit of yellow amber, amongst 
 the great days of the history of man, although people take 
 no note of it He ended by discovering that this prop- 
 
 * Jupiter the Thunderer. 
 
ELECTRICITY. 193 
 
 erty belonged to other bodies besides the electron of the 
 Greeks ; and to him belongs the imperishable glory of 
 giving the first hint. It was soon perceived that we 
 were in presence of an element, up to that time unknown, 
 which was to be found everywhere, and to it the name 
 of electricity was given, in memory or remembrance of 
 the body which had manifested it in the first instance. 
 Less than a hundred years after Gilbert, a new science 
 was established, of which I shall give you a brief account. 
 
 Suspend a piece of paper by a silk thread and then 
 put near it a stick of sealing-wax which has been well 
 rubbed. The paper will fly toward the sealing-wax, ad- 
 here to it for a moment, then will fly back, and if you 
 pursue it with the sealing-wax, it will continue obstinate- 
 ly to recede, like two friends who beginning to embrace 
 each other suddenly quarrel in the midst of the em- 
 brace. The experiment is easily made, and it will amuse 
 you if you try it. 
 
 Next take a long and narrow vial or small glass bot- 
 tle, so that you can rub it more easily. Recommence the 
 play, and you will have the same results. 
 
 If afterward, taking the glass bottle in one hand and 
 the sealing-wax in the other, you place one on each side 
 of the bit of paper, you will produce another effect. The 
 pendent paper will oscillate from one to the other, es- 
 caping from the wax after touching it, to run toward the 
 bottle, rushing from the bottle to return to the wax, and 
 each time adhering*for a moment to the new friend it is 
 immediately going to desert. 
 
 In all this you see nothing but a little amusement. 
 The immediate successors of Gilbert might have thought 
 like you. Let us do as they did, and go forward. 
 
 An explanation must be formed of these extraordinary 
 movements. Here is what was first supposed. 
 9 
 
194 ELECTRICITY. 
 
 Imagine two friends much accustomed to each other's 
 society. They live peacefully side by side, happy to be 
 together, but making no demonstration. Separate them, 
 and they will only think of how they can meet again, and 
 if they come in sight of one another they will throw 
 themselves with transport into each other's arms. Well, 
 in all bodies, there exists a double electricity, a couple 
 of friends who say nothing when they are together, and 
 whose presence we consequently forget. 
 
 When amber, sealing-wax, or any resinous substance 
 is rubbed, one of these two electricities disappears, the 
 other remains alone. The name of resinous electricity 
 is given to the one that remains in the resin. When 
 glass is rubbed, it is the resinous electricity which takes 
 flight, and its companion remains faithful to the glass. 
 This receives the name of vitreous electricity, and bodies 
 are said to be electrified when one or other of these two 
 electricities is isolated. 
 
 The friend left alone, whether in the glass or resin, 
 ardently longs for its lost companion. Now this com- 
 panion is everywhere present in conjunction with the 
 other, but the bonds which retain it cannot be broken 
 without great effort. When a body is not too heavy, 
 and when it is near enough to the electrified glass or 
 resin, it is carried by the force of attraction, which its 
 disconsolate friend constantly exercises in its vicinity, to 
 recall the companion to itself which it misses, and it flies 
 forward and rejoins it. 
 
 This is what the Greeks witnessed, and you under- 
 stand now why the bits of straw flew toward the amber, 
 and also why the little paper alternately adhered to your 
 bottle and the piece of sealing-wax. 
 
 But this is not all ; once adhering to the sealing-wax, 
 which possessed only resinous electricity, the paper gives 
 
ELECTRICITY. 195 
 
 it all the vitreous electricity it contains, and, small as it 
 was, it has not sufficient for its requirements; then what 
 happens ? It finds itself filled in its turn with resinous, 
 having lost all its vitreous electricity. 
 
 Have you never met with people who cultivate your 
 society while they can get anything out of you, but when 
 that is ended, show you the door? This is what the 
 sealing-wax does to its little benefactor, when it has ex- 
 tracted from it all its precious vitreous electricity, with- 
 out much change in its own condition. It repels it, and 
 this is the more easily effected since the paper no longer 
 desires to remain in its company. All bodies electrified 
 in the same manner repel each other mutually, and we 
 resemble them somewhat; when two persons cannot 
 mutually aid each other, they do not care to live to- 
 gether. 
 
 If the paper be placed between the wax and the glass, 
 both being electrified, what will happen ? Robbed by 
 the wax of its vitreous electricity, it will go to refurnish 
 itself on the glass which is fully provided. But in ex- 
 change for its present, the glass will remorselessly take 
 possession of all the resinous electricity of the paper, and 
 the poor little wretch will only have changed one state 
 of misery for another ; it will now find itself vitreously 
 electrified. A fresh departure ensues, a fresh refurnish- 
 ing from the wax, followed by a similar result, and thus 
 ever backward and forward, until the paper, having ef- 
 fected an exchange, by conveying vitreous electricity to 
 the wax and resinous electricity to the glass, until a per- 
 fect equilibrium is established between the two, and the 
 paper recovers its own equilibrium. Then all is right 
 again, and things in their usual state. There is nothing 
 more to see, the game is ended, unless we begin rubbing 
 again, and so recommence the process. 
 
196 ELECTRICITY. 
 
 You can imagine that the thing could be more quickly 
 done by suppressing the intermediate agent ; viz., the 
 paper, and merely suspending the glass bottle and the 
 sealing-wax side by side. They would then go to each 
 other, and make the exchange themselves by reason of a 
 second law, which is the fellow of the first All bodies 
 electrified in an opposite sense mutually attract each 
 other. This law we also understand. How often do we 
 see persons of different characters sympathize with each 
 other, each friend delighting to find in the other what is 
 not to be found in himself? 
 
 If it depended on myself, my dear child, I would give 
 you no other theory of electricity. This is far the nicest, 
 the easiest to understand, and the most pleasing to the 
 imagination. But unfortunately there is another, and, 
 what is still more unfortunate, it is to this other theory 
 the names belong, which are in use at the present day, so 
 I am obliged to explain it to you also. 
 
 Prepare, then, to take leave of our two friends, the 
 resinous and the vitreous. They are now out of fashion, 
 but, nevertheless, do not forget them. It was through 
 them men first began to understand something of this 
 great marvel, electricity, and through them also children 
 are most easily taught what electricity really means. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 ELECTEICIT Y ( Con tinned.) 
 
 THE naughty man who put our resinous and vitreous 
 friends out of fashion was an American, named Benja- 
 min Franklin. The idea which he substituted is a very 
 simple one, and as it does not make any material change 
 in the manoeuvres of our small bit of paper, a* few words 
 will suffice for me to explain it to you. 
 
 There are not two kinds of electricities in bodies ; 
 there is only one, but its quantity varies. 
 
 The stomach of the man who has had just the quan- 
 tity of food he requires is contented and tranquil ; but 
 an empty stomach, or one that is over charged, not only 
 suffers, but each gives indication of its painful sensations. 
 In the same way bodies which have the necessary amount 
 of electricity give no sign of life. Those which have 
 too much, and those which are deficient, are both equally 
 in distress, or, as it is termed, electrified ; the first has 
 too much, the second too little, and hence the two names, 
 positive and negative, are given to one and the same 
 electricity. These two words are easily understood. 
 The one which is overcharged is positively out of order, 
 because of what is there, the empty one is negatively 
 so, on account of what is not there. It is simply the 
 negative and affirmative you find in your grammar. 
 
 When glass is rubbed, the electricity in it increases, 
 and thus it passes into the positive state ; when the wax 
 
 (197) 
 
198 ELECTRICITY. 
 
 is rubbed, the electricity it possesses disappear?, and it 
 passes into the negative state. The first, then, desires 
 to throw off its surcharge, and the latter to make up its 
 deficiency. If you bring them into contact, the mutual 
 understanding is perfect ; they run toward each other, 
 this to receive, and that to give. If the piece of paper 
 is brought into play, it will fly alternately toward the 
 rich side to relieve it of its excess, toward the poor one 
 to offer to it all it possesses, and, becoming rich or poor 
 itself by turns, it will be repelled by the party it has 
 relieved, as soon as it can no longer render any service. 
 Thus, as you see, whether there are two kinds of elec- 
 tricity, or only one, whether it is called vitreous or posi- 
 tive, resinous or negative, the effect produced will always 
 be the same ; bodies electrified in an opposite manner 
 will always be mutually repellent. This theory of reple- 
 tion and emptiness is by no means poetic, but if poetry 
 loses, science gains, and this is of far greater importance. 
 At the present day the terms invented by the American 
 are the only ones in use. 
 
 I just now called this Benjamin Franklin a naughty 
 man ; I was angry with him for having robbed us of the 
 two little friends that would have suited us so well ; 
 were he still living, he would not be angry with us for 
 this ; he was much too sensible a man for that. But, 
 between ourselves, we have not spoken of him in terms 
 of sufficient respect, for he was a remarkable man, and 
 I much regret my inability to give you a little sketch of 
 his history before proceeding ; but take my advice, and 
 read it for yourself the first time an opportunity occurs. 
 In the meantime, I must tell you that it is to him we are 
 indebted for the discovery of the important part which 
 electricity now plays in the world. 
 
 You would be unable to understand anything of this 
 
ELECTRICITY. 199 
 
 * 
 
 discovery, if I did not carry you a little further forward 
 in the study we have already commenced. 
 
 First, seeing that electricity exists in all bodies, how 
 does it happen that glass, resin, and a few other bodies, 
 are the only ones that can be electrified by friction, the 
 effect of which should be the same everywhere ? Did you 
 ever ask yourself this question ? 
 
 In the middle ages, communication between different 
 countries was neither safe nor easy ; what one country 
 produced, wheat for instance, could only be consumed 
 where it grew, and thus whole populations might be 
 dying from hunger, while the granaries were overflow- 
 ing with corn scarce three hundred miles off. Now-a-days, 
 thanks to our railways, and the universal security which 
 prevails, when the harvest fails in one place, corn imme- 
 diately flows in from all the countries where it is abund- 
 ant, and those deadily famines which used to carry off 
 the poor by thousands have become literally impossible. 
 
 There are some bodies in the same condition that we 
 were in during the middle ages, and on the surface of 
 which electricity cannot circulate. If they have too 
 much in one point, so much the worse for them ; this 
 superfluity remains where it -is. And again, so much the 
 worse for those parts which have not sufficient ; none 
 comes to them from other quarters. These bodies are 
 called non-conductors, they do not understand export 
 and import, and this is the case with glass and resin. 
 
 There are other substances, especially metals, in which 
 the transmission of electricity is accomplished with 
 astounding rapidity ; it is said, at the rate of ninety or 
 a hundred and twenty thousand miles in a second. These 
 are the good conductors, and you may rub them as much 
 as you like ; for as fast as they become electrified on one 
 point, whether positively or negatively, the equilibrium 
 
200 
 
 is immediately re-established throughout the entire body. 
 Thanks to this rapid transmission, in comparison of 
 which that of a railway train is like nothing ! Moreover, 
 it is right you should know that your own body is a 
 pretty good conductor, and by means of your hand, 
 which holds a piece of metal, the communication being 
 established between it and the ground, the great common 
 reservoir of electricity, according to the authorised expres- 
 sion, it becomes as difficult to impoverish or to enrich it, as 
 it would be difficult, by pumping, to empty a well that 
 was in communication with the sea, or to cause the same 
 well to overflow by pouring water into it. 
 
 If, however, either glass or resin were placed between 
 the ground and the metal that has been rubbed, the case 
 would be different. The metal would be insulated from 
 the great common reservoir by these non-conductors, 
 which do not allow electricity to circulate on their sur- 
 face. This is termed their insulating power ; and then 
 the metal may be electrified. If you were to make the 
 wheels of a train run upon glass rails somewhat raised 
 from the ground, the wheels would be electrified by the 
 friction, and by their means the train would,, in its turn, 
 become electrified with all it contained. Can you guess 
 what must happen the moment communication with the 
 earth is established, were it even by means of a passen- 
 ger putting his foot to the ground while holding on to 
 the carriage-door ? The whole would explode, and I will 
 prove upon what grounds. 
 
 When your bit of paper adhered to the sealing-wax or 
 glass, it was only able, on account of its size, to take 
 from the one or yield up to the other a very small por- 
 tion of electricity. Had it been put in communication 
 with the inexhaustible reservoir of the globe, by means 
 of a metallic wire, it could not even then have given or 
 

 ELECTRICITY. 201 
 
 taken much more electricity than before ; because, 
 owing to want of circulation on the surface of these 
 bodies, the equilibrium could only be established at the 
 point touched by the paper. On this account you neither 
 saw nor heard what passed, for the re-establishment of 
 electrical equilibrium is always accompanied by sparks 
 and a crackling noise, proportioned, it is true, to the 
 quantity of electricity set in motion, but this most cer- 
 tainly took place. Perhaps some microscopic animal 
 lost in the minute recesses of the paper, as we should be 
 in a mountain gorge, was struck down by the effect 
 produced, but it was too weak to be perceived by you. 
 
 Suppose a large metallic surface insulated from the 
 ground, strongly electrified, this is done by means of an 
 electric machine, which I have not time just now to stop 
 and explain to you, and then to have some body, which 
 is a good conductor brought into contact with it ; the 
 equilibrium would instantaneously re-establish itself 
 over the whole surface, by means of its prodigious facility 
 of transmission. A torrent of electricity if I may be 
 allowed the expression would rush from one body to 
 the ether, and its passage would be revealed by a bright 
 spark, and a sharp noise like the crackling of wood. If 
 the body which was the good conductor happened to be 
 your own, you would experience a shock by no means the 
 most agreeable, I can assure you ; a sensation in all re- 
 spects so peculiar that you must feel it yourself in order 
 to realise it. 
 
 Enlarge the surface, the spark, the noise, and the shock 
 increase with it, and if it attains certain proportions it 
 becomes a flash of lightning, a peal of thunder, instant 
 death for whoever may be bold enough to try the exper- 
 iment. An electric machine the size of a railway train 
 would kill a man as instantaneously as the lightning it- 
 9* 
 
202 ELECTRICITY. 
 
 self, and it would kill as many hundreds as happened to 
 be in it at the moment of the discharge, which is the 
 name given to the sudden re-establishment of equilibrium 
 between two electrified bodies. 
 
 We now come to the discovery made by the great 
 American ; but before entering upon it, one detail 
 more requires to be noticed. 
 
 I resume my supposition of a train electrifying itself 
 on glass rails, with the prospect of certain death to 
 the passengers at the first moment of contact with the 
 ground. This will never happen, but there is no harm in 
 imagining it. It is thus that -fairy tales were invented, 
 which grave men will do away with when there shall no 
 longer be any children. 
 
 What is to be done to save these unfortunate travel- 
 lers ? If we touch them they are lost. 
 
 There is no difficulty in the matter. The train stop- 
 ping of its own accord, I should cause it to be surround- 
 ed by a battalion of soldiers, with orders to cross bayo- 
 nets at a foot from the carriages, and after five minutes 
 pause the soldiers may with confidence give a hand to 
 the travellers, and help them to alight ; the danggt is 
 over. 
 
 You do not understand how this can be ! and it is in 
 fact as marvellous as any fairy tale. This wonder arises 
 from a singular law of electricity, the explanation of 
 which would take up too much time, but I can give you 
 an idea of it in a few words. 
 
 Electricity is in a manner chained to the surface of 
 bodies, when they are flat or round. It can escape far 
 more readily when they terminate in a point ; this is 
 what is called the power of points. 
 
 My imaginary train, having rubbed on the glass, which 
 becomes positively electrified, would itself become nega- 
 
ELECTRICITY. 203 
 
 tively so ; for you must recollect, that two bodies rubbed 
 together electrify each other always in an inverse sense, 
 one giving, the other receiving ; from whence it results, 
 we may remark in passing, that the same body is capable 
 of taking indifferently either of these two states of elec- 
 tricity, according to the nature of the companion against 
 which it is rubbed. The train would then most certainly 
 have lost its electricity, and the danger to be feared from 
 contact with an exterior body would arise from the im- 
 mense torrent of electricity suddenly precipitating itself 
 over so vast a surface to establish the equilibrium. Each 
 bayonet directed toward it would have exactly the effect 
 of so many tubes pouring streams of water with an in- 
 calculable rapidity into an empty basin ; the basin would 
 soon be filled. The same with the train ; and the travel- 
 lers, restored with it to their usual condition, could re- 
 sume communication with the great common reservoir, 
 the earth, without any danger. 
 
 Now I shall give a little account of Benjamin Frank- 
 lin. 
 
 He was not exactly a learned man, for he was origin- 
 ally a printer, working for his daily bread, but liking 
 study very much, and he wrote certain books for the im- 
 provement of his contemporaries, which will never go 
 out of date, because they include the secret of all true 
 manliness. From a book that happened to be sent from 
 England, Franklin learned what I have just been endeav- 
 oring to teach you ;* and the idea occurred to him, that 
 since the discharge of an electric machine resembled, as 
 it were, terrestrial electricity of a certain force, celestial 
 electricity or the lightning of heaven, with its noise and 
 its brilliancy, might after all be nothing more nor less 
 than an immense electric discharge. 
 
 * We must except the power of points discovered by himself. 
 
204 ELECTRICITY. 
 
 And lie found that he was right. 
 
 Franklin had announced, three years previously, that 
 by placing metallic wires on end, at a sufficient height 
 insulated from the ground, and terminating each in a 
 point, one could see them electrified on the approach of 
 a thunder cloud, and he was waiting until a steeple, then 
 in course of erection in Philadelphia, should be complet- 
 ed, that he might make the experiment. Tired of wait- 
 ing, however, he at last constructed a kite with two sticks 
 and a handkerchief, arming it with a metallic point, and 
 one stormy day he went into the fields to fly it. A large 
 black cloud passed over the kite, and Franklin received 
 electric sparks by touching a key with his finger, having 
 first fastened the key to the end of the kite string ;* this 
 was indubitable proof of the presence of electricity in the 
 cloud. 
 
 This took place in June 1752 ; and now mark well 
 the danger of delay. By waiting so long for the steeple, 
 the illustrious American was not the first to realise the 
 idea which he was the first to conceive. A month pre- 
 vious, on May 10th, at half-past two o'clock in the after- 
 noon, the first electric spark drawn from the clouds, as 
 one may say, was seen by a carpenter at Marly the 
 Marly of Louis XIY. which will one day be talked of 
 for this, let me tell you, much more than for its having 
 been the occasional abode of the great king, for whom 
 the world at large will care but little. Marly-le-Roi is 
 near St. Germain, and belonged to Madame de Mainte- 
 non, for whom it was built by Louis XIY. 
 
 I must give you the history of this spark, which is 
 more worthy of record ftian many a battle. 
 
 * The key was retained by a silken cord which intercepted the 
 communication with the ground. Silk, as you perhaps know, is one 
 of those bad conductors called insulators, or non-conductors. 
 
ELECTRICITY. 205 
 
 Buffon, the celebrated naturalist, had undertaken to 
 introduce the ideas of the Philadelphia printer into 
 France, as he already begun to astonish the scientific 
 men of Europe, who were somewhat mortified to see 
 themselves left in the background, by one who had hith- 
 erto held no rank among philosophers. "As Buffon was 
 occupied with more important affairs/' says one of his 
 contemporaries,* "he abandoned this duty to one of his 
 friends named Dalibard." This Dalibard was an intel- 
 ligent man, and had so strong a liking for the new doc- 
 trine that, impatient to know whether the inventor was 
 right in his surmises, he could not wait till Franklin had 
 tried his experiment. " It never thunders in Philadelphia," 
 was already the byword in Paris, amongst those who 
 .were teased with Franklin's delays. I quote the ex- 
 pression to show you how little was known of America 
 at that period. 
 
 Dalibard caused a pointed iron rod one hundred feet 
 high to be placed on end, well insulated from the ground, 
 on a property he possessed at Marly. As no storm oc- 
 curred he returned to Paris, leaving the iron rod in 
 charge of a carpenter, who had orders not to lose sight 
 of it, in case the weather changed. The storm came at 
 last, the iron rod emitted sparks, and thus it happened 
 that, owing to the fortuitous arrangement of Franklin, 
 Buffon, and Dalibard, this carpenter was the first man to 
 see, with his own eyes, the fire of heaven coming down 
 by command and exposing itself for the gratification of 
 human curiosity. 
 
 These long-pointed iron rods that are seen rising from 
 
 * This phrase is taken from the first of the letters on electricity, 
 (1752,) by the Abbe Nollet, one of the famous natural philosophers 
 of the last century, who amusingly jokes the new comer as to his 
 pretension of being able to invoke electricity by sticking up metallic 
 points on the highest parts of buildings. 
 
206 ELECTRICITY. 
 
 the roofs of large buildings, are the invention of Benja- 
 min Franklin. They act the very part that our bayonets 
 did a little while ago, and silently discharge from the 
 clouds the electricity, which might destroy the edifice 
 should they pass too near it. It is the iron rod erected 
 at Marly, but with a most important alteration. Instead 
 of being carefully insluated from the soil, the lower ex- 
 tremities of lightning-conductors are put in communica- 
 tion with it, and a thousand methods are invented to 
 render this communication as complete as possible, other- 
 wise, so far from being any protection, the lightning- 
 conductor would become very dangerous, for the elec- 
 tricity of the clouds accumulating there, and finding no 
 issue, would immediately discharge itself on the building, 
 and thus we might bring down upon us a dangerous vis- 
 itor, which, but for the conductor, might have kept at a 
 distance. 
 
 Now when you see metallic cords reaching from the 
 rods to the ground along buildings which are surmounted 
 with lightning conductors, you will know what is their 
 use, and remember you must never go near them during 
 a thunder storm. The electric fluid, silent and invisible, 
 is very probably there, and as the proverb says, " Let 
 sleeping dogs lie." 
 
 Now, what do you say ? Have we not made some 
 progress from Gilbert's yellow amber, and the piece of 
 straw adhering to it ? and have we not attained to some- 
 thing more serious ? Well 1 you have still more wonder- 
 ful things to hear about. We shall by means of a frog's 
 leg, arrive at a series of revelations which will even sur- 
 pass all we have yet seen. 
 
CHAPTER XXIY. 
 
 ELECTRICIT Y ( Continued). 
 
 IT was in 1786, thirty-four years after the spark had 
 been observed by the Marly carpenter, as has been de- 
 scribed, that a physician of Bologna, Professor of Anato- 
 my, set about preparing frogs, as they say in that coun- 
 try, with a view to scientific research ; after having killed 
 them he flayed them, in order to study their organization 
 more carefully. As he prepared them, he hung them 
 one by one upon his balcony, by means of small copper 
 hooks passed through their loins at the very spot whence 
 the large nerve, known by the name of the lumbar nerve, 
 issues, and which is situated in the same locality in man 
 also, for in the general plan of the nervous system we 
 are not differently constructed from the frog. A breeze 
 arising, caused a movement among the frogs, and each 
 time that one of them touched the iron bars of the bal- 
 cony with its pendent feet, it suddenly doubled up with 
 a convulsive movement, as if the poor little dead body 
 had begun to jump. 
 
 How frequently is human glory the simple result of 
 chance ! If this Professor of Anatomy had been stand- 
 ing at this moment with his back turned to the balcony, 
 he would assuredly long ago have sunk into the same 
 oblivion into which so many other professors of his day 
 have fallen, who doubtless were as worthy of remem- 
 brance. But happily he saw the frogs jump, wished to 
 know the cause of the phenomenon, and became immor- 
 
 '207) 
 
208 ELECTEICITY. 
 
 tal ! This man was called Galvani. When you hear 
 the words galvanoplastic, galvanized iron, galvanic 
 brushes, etc., etc., you will at once know them to be de- 
 rived from the name of the experimenter on frogs. 
 
 Galvani at once understood the nature of the convul- 
 sion which appeared to resuscitate the little dead feet. 
 He said to himself that the shock could only be the effect 
 of an electric discharge. 
 
 But whence proceeded the electricity thus dis- 
 charged ? 
 
 Galvani being a physician, at once attributed it to the 
 nerve and muscles which had been put in communication 
 by means of a metallic circle. He declared that an ani- 
 mal electricity existed, of which the nerves were the 
 conductors, self-producing in living bodies, and existing 
 in them for some time after death.* He was right, but 
 his discovery was only partial. 
 
 This opportune gust of wind sufficed to r'ender tvvo 
 men immortal. Volta, Professor of Physics at Pavia, 
 had the intelligence requisite to work out the remaining 
 part, and so to complete Galvani's discovery. Being a 
 natural philosopher, he laid aside the idea of nerves and 
 muscles, and turned his attention to metals, declaring in 
 his turn, that the cause of the discharge resulted from 
 the contact of the two metals, namely, the copper hooks 
 and the iron balcony, the one of which having attracted 
 all the electricity from the other, had become positively 
 electrified, the other, negatively. A celebrated contro- 
 versy arose between the two professors, who both came 
 off triumphant, a solitary instance, I believe, in the an- 
 nals of science, and whilst Galvani successfully establish- 
 ed his share of the discovery in obtaining shocks by 
 
 * After a certain lapse of time, a dead frog becomes insensible to 
 the double contact of iron and copper. 
 
ELECTRICITY, 209 
 
 placing the nerves and the muscles of the frogs in direct 
 contact without the intervention of any metal, Volta 
 established his theory, no less successfully, in the inven- 
 tion of the famous Voltaic or electrical pile that still 
 bears his name. 
 
 Making his experiment the reverse of that of Galvani, 
 Volta replaced the half-dead frog's legs with something 
 inanimate, such as a piece of wet cloth, and from one 
 experiment to another, he, at last, arrived at the con- 
 clusion, that the two metals most suitable to electrify one 
 another in an inverse manner, by contact, were copper 
 and zinc. He also found that the effect produced be- 
 came more considerable, if a series of pieces of metal, 
 copper and zinc, were always coupled two by two in the 
 same order. This was the origin of his pile, formed with 
 a certain number of couples, copper and zinc, piled one 
 upon another, making a kind of column terminating 
 above in a piece of copper, and below in a piece of zinc. 
 No animal electricity could by any possibility be formed 
 here, nevertheless the two pieces of metal placed at the 
 extremities of the pile were electrified ; that of the copper 
 negatively, that of the zinc positively. If two metallic 
 wires were attached, one to each end of the pile, and the 
 other extremities of the wires brought into contact with 
 each other, an electrical discharge was produced, or 
 rather, I should say, a continuous succession of dis- 
 charges. The equilibrium constantly destroying itself 
 as fast as it was established, scarcely had the electricity 
 reached the negative extremity, ere it returned to 
 the end positively electrified, from which the surplus 
 always renewing itself was as constantly thrown off! 
 Imagine a fountain which discharges itself into a cask 
 without any bottom and through which the water returns 
 again into the reservoir. It is quite clear that the cask 
 
210 ELECTRICITY. 
 
 would never become full, nor the reservoir empty. And 
 this is the case with the two pieces of copper and zinc 
 placed at the extremities of the pile. If ever there was 
 a scientific name happily chosen, it is this of electric 
 current, given by Volta to this inexhaustible stream of 
 electricity, which flows from the one piece of metal to 
 the other. 
 
 This is a very different thing from the spark of the 
 electric machine, even when that is magnified to the pro- 
 portions of the thunderbolt. 
 
 I remember a game we used to play at school, called 
 " The Stag." It began with a large herd of stags, pur- 
 sued by one dog. If I recollect right I was delighted to 
 be this dog. At the onset all chance seemed against 
 him, but as soon as he caught a stag, it immediately 
 became a dog, and had to assist in capturing another 
 stag, which, in its turn, joined the pursuit, and thus by 
 degrees, the pack gradually increasing in number, suc- 
 ceeded in capturing, the last stag. This, in some meas- 
 ure, resembles the war commenced by man at his creation 
 against Nature. Alone at the beginning, and as if lost 
 among a thousand inimical powers, the combat seemed a 
 very unequal one, but the first that he overcame imme- 
 diately became his auxiliary, and it is by, in a manner, 
 forcing each new captive to fight by his side, that he has 
 at last succeeded in plucking so many feathers from the 
 wing of nature, if I may be allowed thus to express 
 myself. 
 
 Now, in a warfare of this nature, the importance of 
 the capture ought to be calculated in proportion to the 
 amount of service the captive can render, and the new 
 form under which electricity revealed itself this time 
 was a great boon to man. It is no easy matter to make 
 the electric spark do our bidding, but an electric cur- 
 
ELECTRICITY. 211 
 
 rent ! can we control it ? Think what we can make a 
 stream of water do ! 
 
 Scarcely was the pile discovered when it showed us 
 what use it might be turned to. I have already told 
 you that, in nine pounds' of water, one pound of hydrogen 
 and eight of oxygen are found. The very first experi- 
 ment of the pile taught us this. Until that moment, no 
 one had ever thought of seeking for anything but water 
 in water. Water was, as you are well aware, one of 
 the four elements* recognized by the ancients as earth, 
 air, fire and water, and these four were considered as the 
 universal basis of all bodies. An Englishman who, for 
 the first time, was studying the effects of the new appar- 
 atus designed by Yolta, was struck by a smell of hydro- 
 gen which could not be accounted for,t and by dint of 
 observation, he at last convinced himself, that the water 
 contained in the wet layers was decomposed by the pas- 
 sage of the electric current into two gases, of which the 
 one, oxygen, went to the positive extremity of the pile, 
 and the other, hydrogen, was disengaged at the negative 
 extremity. It was an easy matter for philosophers to 
 collect with exactitude, to measure, and to weigh the 
 two gases thus produced, and they had soon a clear 
 proof of the fact they maintained. By directing an 
 electric spark through the two gases enclosed in the 
 same vase, they effected an explosion accompanied by 
 sparks. This was the reunion of the two disunited 
 
 * Element is synonymous with simple body, a word now used to 
 express a body which as yet has not been decomposed into several 
 others. At present we can number sixty simple bodies, but it is a 
 list that is exposed to constant change from the discovery of 
 new indecomposible bodies, or from the decomposition of old ones. 
 Some persons are of opinion that there ought only to be two simple 
 bodies. Perhaps there may after all be only one. 
 
 f Hydrogen has a peculiar odor, sufficiently distinct not to de- 
 ceive a chemist's sense of smell. 
 
212 ELECTRICITY. 
 
 gases, and only some tiny drops of water were found in 
 their place ; what the electric current had divided, the 
 electric spark re-united. 
 
 The discovery of the true nature of water was made 
 in the year 1800, and the discoverer's, name was Nichol- 
 son. I wish you would accustom yourself to remember 
 the names of these conquerors and the dates of their 
 conquests. What are those odious little battles between 
 men compared with the great and fruitful battles of man 
 against Nature ? And tell me, if you please, which de- 
 serves the place of honor in the memory of little girls ? 
 
 These were sad times for the famous quatuor of ele- 
 ments, so long the undisputed fathers of all bodies. 
 Only a few years before, the illustrious Frenchman, 
 Lavoisier had at one blow divided the air into two gases, 
 oxygen and azote, and scored out fire from the list of 
 simple bodies by proving, scales in hand, that it was 
 only an illumination produced by the union of gases.* 
 Then here comes an Englishman to deprive water of its 
 rank as an element ; and seven years later another Eng- 
 lishman named Davy, another name I wish you to re- 
 member, gave the last blow to the sole survivor of the 
 four, already in a very sickly condition, by discovering, 
 thanks to the pile, metals in the earth. 
 
 At that time the name earths, in the plural, was given 
 to potassa, soda, alumina, silica, magnesia ; in short, to 
 all those substances which, mixed together, form almost 
 the entire composition of stones ; and consequently the 
 soil of our fields, which, though you may not be aware 
 of it, is nothing else than pulverised stone. Nicholson's 
 discovery concerning water led the way to similar dis- 
 
 * Lavoisier's theory, as it is generally understood, is, that com- 
 bustion consists in or results from a combination of bodies, with the 
 oxygen floating in the surrounding air. TRANSLATOR'S NOTE. 
 
ELECTRICITY. 213 
 
 coveries with regard to many other bodies, which all 
 permitted of their bonds of affinity being broken up by 
 the electric current ; and what is singular, it was always 
 the oxygen, or the portion in which this gas was most 
 abundant, which appeared at the positive extremity ; the 
 other part invariably passed to the negative. In the 
 year 1807, Davy, who had arranged a very strong pile, 
 submitted potassa, soda, and their companions to the ac- 
 tion of a very powerful current, and produced the result 
 anticipated. The earths were destroyed, the oxygen 
 appeared at its post, and potassium, sodium, magnesium, 
 aluminium, etc., were successively discernible at the 
 opposite end, and were henceforth classed in the order 
 of the old metals iron, copper, gold, silver, etc., under 
 the name of earthy metals. 
 
 All these metals terminating in um sound. very scien- 
 tific to our ears. There is one of them, however, alum- 
 inium, that you must be acquainted with ; for it has had 
 the good taste to place itself at the service of young 
 ladies in the form of trinkets, since a no ted French chemist, 
 Henri Sainte- Claire Deville, has found out how to obtain 
 in ingots what the pile only produced in particles far 
 too small for use. There is another which also appears 
 destined to enjoy a brilliant future ; this is magnesium, 
 which is beginning to be used on special occasions for 
 lighting, and a single wire oft which, when burning, gives 
 forth a light surpassing that of any lamp. If potassium 
 were cheaper, its wonderful power of spinning round 
 upon water, and darting forth actual fireworks, would 
 long since have brought it into notice as an object of 
 curiosity. I grant there is nothing very important in 
 all this, but it is only the beginning, and the Davy's 
 metals have not yet fulfilled their destiny. Aluminium 
 is already making a very respectable apprenticeship as 
 
214 ELECTRICITY. 
 
 an available metal in the industrial world ; and if this 
 were the only one, it would be sufficient to place the 
 English philosopher in the rank of those who have ex- 
 tended the field of human knowledge. The French phil- 
 osopher also deserves his share of praise ; and we must 
 not forget the great Italian who invented the pile. There 
 is this advantage in opening up a new furrow in science, 
 that all who have contributed to its development are 
 entitled to our gratitude. 
 
 Unfortunately, we have not sufficient time to pass in 
 review all the conquests due to the pile. Still I cannot 
 bid adieu to Davy without speaking to you of the elec- 
 tric light which this sun kindles at our bidding, when- 
 ever we require it, by means of the pile. 
 
 It was Davy who produced the apparatus used at the 
 present day to obtain those prodigious effects of light 
 which enable workmen to labor in the dock-yards by 
 night as easily as they can in broad daylight. The 
 electric current produces these effects, by traversing 
 small pieces of charcoal placed one after the other at the 
 extremity of the two wires of a strong pile. If Gilbert, 
 whilst rubbing his bits of amber, had been told that, by 
 means of this simple art, one of his countrymen would, 
 two centuries later, have invented a new light for the 
 use of mankind, fancy how great his astonishment would 
 have been ! Nor would it have been less cause for won- 
 der had he been told that, thanks to him, a day would 
 come when silver spoons would be more common than 
 pewter ones were in his day. You must understand that 
 I am here alluding to galvanoplastics, of which I wish to 
 speak to you more at length, inasmuch as it is far more 
 nearly connected with the subject now occupying our at- 
 tention than you can possibly guess. 
 
 In that celebrated garden of Greek roots, of which we 
 
ELECTRICITY. 215 
 
 spoke in the chapter on Ruminants, (a ruminator is a 
 man who muses,) we read this line which, had he seen it, 
 would have extracted a grimace from Boileau, 
 
 " Plasso, forme, enduit, fait semblant." 
 
 Such as it is, it suits us, for it teaches you that galvano- 
 plastic means coated by Glalvani. It ought to have been 
 voltaplastic to be accurate, but that is of no consequence. 
 
 You have just now seen that where the demolition of 
 a body is effected by the current of the pile, the oxygen 
 retreats to the side that is positively electrified, or car- 
 ries off to that point its intimate friends, who remain 
 hooked on to it in the struggle. The remainder runs to 
 the negative side. 
 
 This being settled, recall to your mind those beautiful 
 blue crystal pyramids which you must more than once 
 have admired while passing the druggists' shops. The 
 masses who have remained faithful to the name employed 
 in the middle ages, call this blue vitriol ; the scientific 
 name is sulphate of copper. These blue crystals are full 
 of copper ; but try if you can extract it with your fingers ! 
 it is held there in bonds of affinity infinitely more com- 
 plicated than those by which hydrogen and oxygen be- 
 come water, and perhaps you will not be sorry, to speak 
 in lawyer-like style, to know the condition of the con- 
 tracting parties. 
 
 From the first union of copper with oxygen, a new 
 body is formed, known as oxide of copper, which alone 
 appears like a black powder. This oxide in its turn unites 
 with sulphuric acid, which again is only a composition 
 of sulphur and a large proportion of oxygen, and all these 
 unions combined produce the blue crystal. There are a 
 great many unions in this affair, are tjiere not ? but I am 
 persuaded that you will be able to recognise them all. 
 
216 ELECTRICITY. 
 
 You disentangled more intricate family webs than this 
 the other day when you accomplished the numbering of 
 the relationship to your cousin. 
 
 The current of the pile will soon unravel them, and 
 what is more, partly untie them, if you will make it tra- 
 verse a basin of water in which you shall have melted 
 one of these blue crystals full of copper. It is a voyage 
 which you can compel it to take by putting one part of 
 the basin in communication with the positive and the 
 other with the negative wire; it immediately rushes 
 from one wire to the other across the bluish water, which 
 is a good conductor, and sows discord among the com- 
 ponent parts all along its passage. The oxygen which 
 was united to the copper abandons it all on a sudden, 
 and runs to the positive wire in concert with the sul- 
 phuric acid, upon which the copper, deprived of its oxygen, 
 produces the same effect which a girl without a dowry, 
 does upon a miser. The copper thus forsaken, liberated, 
 as chemists say, makes for the negative wire, and on 
 arriving there, behaves as amiably as we could desire 
 now that we know how to make it subservient to our 
 use. 
 
 If it encounters a metallic object there, or one simply 
 washed over with a layer of metal, no matter how thin, 
 it immediately makes friends with the comrade presented 
 to it, and deposits itself all over the surface of the object 
 in impalpable particles, penetrating the most remote 
 corners, so that after a certain length of time all this 
 surface is covered with a uniform layer of copper, a 
 thousand times better applied than could have been done 
 by the hammer of the best tinsmith of which the world 
 can boast. 
 
 Bodies resulting from these double unions such as that 
 of the blue vitriol, or sulphate of copper, are called salts. 
 
ELECTRICITY. 217 
 
 If you dissolve salts of gold or of silver, or any other 
 metal you wish, in a basin of water the operation will 
 be exactly the same, but instead of a layer of copper, you 
 will have a layer of gold or silver, as the case may be, 
 which will adhere to the object attached to the negative 
 wire. Hence all this new, cheap silver-plate, which re- 
 joices the hearts of the humblest individuals. 
 
 "When you eat your soup, if the useless luxury has been 
 abolished in your house of using solid silver spoons and 
 forks, you can say to yourself, that you are acquainted 
 with the history of your spoon. It has passed through 
 an electric bath of a salt of silver, out of which it has 
 come plated. This coating, the coating of Galvani, is 
 of incomparably purer silver than is that of royal spoons, 
 when, indeed, kings condescend to make use of silver. 
 Only I must warn you that it is exceedingly slight. Do 
 not take it into your head to follow the example of a 
 very zealous cook that I once knew, who scoured some 
 electro-plated covers with ashes with all her might. 
 What is noble on the surface only, is soon rendered 
 ignoble by rough usage. On this account deal gently 
 with your spoons ; and that you may have nothing to fear 
 from the rubs of the world, let your little heart be silver 
 to the very core. 
 
 10 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 ELECTRICITY (Continued.) 
 
 THE inconvenience, or if you prefer it, the advantage 
 of study, my dear child, is this, that it always leads you 
 farther than you thought of going. In order to prepare 
 you to understand the action of the nerves, and the part 
 they perform in your body, I have been obliged to speak 
 to you upon a variety of subjects, each one more curious 
 than the other ; and now, whether disposed or not, I am 
 under the necessity of explaining the electric telegraph : 
 an invention of the Almighty which dates from the first 
 moment an animal began to move. 
 
 This electricity, which has for some time occupied our 
 attention, is a very mysterious power. I do not know to 
 what to compare it better than to an actor who by 
 means of changing his dress, is enabled to represent all 
 the different characters in a play. This power is to be 
 met with everywhere, always the same in principle, but 
 manifesting itself under different aspects, according to cir- 
 cumstances. We have seen it accumulating on the elec- 
 trical machine, and instantly disappearing at the small- 
 est contact. Again we see it carried away in the form 
 of an endless current in the pile ; and I much regret that 
 I had not time to enter into its whole history. You 
 would have been amazed at the thousand forms under 
 which it manifests itself.* Now we come to a new form 
 
 * The pile in use at the present time bears no resemblance to that 
 of Volta, and in its construction and in the explanation of it, his first 
 
 (218) 
 
ELECTRICITY. 219 
 
 of electricity, so different from the others, that, for a 
 long time people were deceived about it, and believed 
 themselves in the presence of a totally distinct power ; 
 but there is no longer any doubt on the subject ; I refer 
 to what is called magnetism. 
 
 Magnetism comes from the Greek word magnis, which 
 signifies a magnet. You are aware that the magnet 
 attracts steel. To be ignorant of a discovery made more 
 than two thousand four hundred years ago would be a 
 great disgrace. Thales, one of the fathers of Greek 
 philosophy, taught us that the loadstone possesses a soul 
 capable of attracting iron, and I should like his expla- 
 nation well enough if we could agree about the meaning 
 of the word soul. The natural loadstone such as was 
 known to the Greeks, and the artificial magnets of the 
 present day, attract iron, as a piece of amber that has 
 been briskly rubbed attracts bits of straw. Here is the 
 first resemblance between the power inherent in them, 
 and that observed in the old Electron ; but we are only 
 at the beginning of our subject. 
 
 Ask your mother to lend you one of the needles she 
 is in the habit of using. The probability is, it has be- 
 come magnetised by the manipulation it has been sub- 
 jected to by your mamma's fingers, while passing it 
 rapidly and frequently through her work. You may 
 also present one of the points of a pair of scissors in 
 active use to the needle, and you need not be surprised 
 
 idea of the virtue of metals brought in contact with each other, has 
 been completely abandoned. It has been recognized that all 
 chemical actions, all changes in the conditions of bodies, and even a 
 simple difference of temperature between one end of a metallic pile 
 and the other, produce electric currents. The term pile has never- 
 theless been indistinctly applied to all the different apparatus in- 
 vented since the time of Volta, for producing these currents, and 
 with some justice, for from his pile originated all the more recent 
 discoveries. 
 
220 ELECTRICITY. 
 
 to see the needle adhere to the point. In this case, rub 
 the needle freely against the two points of the half- 
 opened scissors ; magnetism being there, it will be com- 
 municated by the rubbing, from the needle to the scis- 
 sors, just as good and bad habits are communicated 
 from one to another by little girls who live together. 
 But if this experiment do not succeed, for these little 
 feminine implements are not without their caprices, and 
 it is not every lady who is gifted with the power of 
 magnetising with her fingers, you have still another left. 
 Ask your papa to buy you a magnet ; there are plenty 
 to be had in every toy-shop at about a shilling or two 
 each, and I can assure you it is as amusing a toy as any 
 you can select. They are generally of the form of a 
 horse-shoe elongated, the two extremities of which 
 incline toward each other. Hold your needle by the 
 middle, and rest the two ends upon the magnet, giving 
 it a little see-saw movement ; a moment will suffice to 
 magnetise it. 
 
 In short, hold in your hand a magnetised needle 
 any way you like. Before trying your experiment, 
 satisfy yourself as to the direction in which 'the north 
 lies from the point at which you take your stand. This 
 is exceedingly simple. If you turn your face to the sun 
 at mid-day, the south will be immediately in front of 
 you, and the north consequently at your back. 
 
 This important point once settled, take a cork and 
 cut a delicate round slice off it, and place it in the mid- 
 dle of a plate full of water. This will form a kind of 
 little boat capable of carrying your needle ; place the 
 latter on the cork in any direction you choose, you may 
 rely upon one end pointing toward the north, the other 
 consequently toward the south ; turn the cork and nee- 
 dles as you like, they will always by mutual consent re- 
 
ELECTRICITY. 221 
 
 turn to their respective posts. The northern extremity 
 turning from the south with horror, and that of the 
 south fleeing from the north with all its might. 
 
 This, my dear child, is the compass ; and I advise you 
 to look with great respect upon this needle which turns 
 about in the plate of water. Man is indebted to instru- 
 ments of a similar kind to guide him on his way on the 
 open sea, where he sees nothing around him but a bound- 
 less expanse of waves exactly resembling each other ; 
 and but for the unfailing instinct of these little needles, 
 we should in all probability still be ignorant of the ex- 
 istence of the American continent. At any rate, our 
 bravest mariner would tremble at the idea of venturing 
 upon a voyage across the Atlantic, and so one half of 
 our globe would be lost to us. 
 
 But this has nothing to do with our subject. Let us 
 go back to our little magnet, for I conclude you possess 
 one it will best answer our present purpose. 
 
 Look at it well. You will observe the letter N 
 marked on one of its extremities. This end will always 
 turn to the north, if you hold the loadstone suspended 
 by a string, and notice its movements. It is that end 
 of the needle which rubs against it that you will notice 
 points toward the south. Present it now to the other 
 end of the needle, that which, like itself, is directed 
 toward the north, and is called its north pole, 45 " it will 
 fly from it ; reverse it, and present the south pole to the 
 needle, it will rush toward it. 
 
 Do you not recognise in all this those fundamental laws 
 of electricity to which I recently called your attention ? 
 
 * These terms, north and south poles, have been given to the 
 two extremities of tho magnetic needle, to assimilate them with 
 the two poles of the earth, which may be considered as a large 
 magnet. 
 
222 ELECTRICITY. 
 
 Two bodies rubbed against each other become electri- 
 fied in a contrary sense. 
 
 Bodies similarly electrified repel each other. 
 
 Bodies differently electrified attract each other. 
 
 It is clear that we are dealing with facts of the same 
 nature, and there is every reason to suppose the 
 power producing them to be the same. But there is 
 something beyond this. 
 
 Navigators for a long time observed, with despair, 
 that in stormy weather, when the compass was most ne- 
 cessary to them, it sometimes indicated a route the 
 reverse of that intended to be followed ; turning at ran- 
 dom, as if it had ^st its head. Do not smile at my 
 expression ; it differs but slightly from that used by sea- 
 men, who in these cases speak of their valued compass 
 as if it were a living creature, saying it is bewitched, 
 or, in other words, gone mad. 
 
 Storms being ascertained by Benjamin Franklin to be 
 nothing more than electrical phenomena, and this pecu- 
 liarity in the movement of the needle having been so 
 often observed, led to the 'belief that there was an evi- 
 dent connexion between magnetism and electricity. 
 This supposition was corroborated toward the close of 
 the last century by natural philosophers, who produced 
 on the compass all the effects of a storm, nay more,* by 
 means of the electric machine. 
 
 * Note for grown-up persons, taken from Cavallo's " Treatise on 
 Electricity," 1785 : " A violent degree of electric power is not only 
 capable of destroying the virtue of a magnetic needle or changing 
 its poles, but can even communicate magnetic attraction to a body 
 not possessed of it. If a fine sewing-needle be placed in the direc- 
 tion of the discharge from a glass tray of at least eight or ten feet 
 square, the needle will in some instances become magnetised, and 
 that while floating on water, and will turn toward the north. It 
 must also be remarked that if, at the time of the discharge, the di- 
 
ELECTEICITY. 223 
 
 Immediately upon the discovery of the pile, it seems 
 to me that scientific men ought promptly to have tried 
 the effect of its currents upon the compass ; an effect 
 much more easily ascertained, considering its constancy 
 and regularity, than in the rapid and capricious dis- 
 charge from the electrifying machine. It was not, how- 
 ever, until the year 1819 that a Danish professor called 
 (Ersted felt himself in a position to announce to the 
 world that the compass lost control over itself when in 
 the vicinity of a wire crossed by the current from the 
 pile. After the experiments described by Cavallo, if 
 you have had courage to read the extract I made from 
 them, the discovery, between ourselves, was not a very 
 extraordinary one. This did not, however, prevent its 
 making a great sensation ; for (Ersted, a really scientific 
 man, at the same time that he made the discovery found 
 the means of utilising it. Thanks to him, the illustrious 
 Arago was enabled, the following year, to establish the 
 fact on which an entire telegraph system rests, namely, 
 that a bit of soft iron* became instantaneously mag- 
 
 rection of the needle be east and west, the point that is struck will 
 mark the north. If, on the contrary, the direction of the needle be 
 north and south, the extremity looking north will continue to indi- 
 cate it after the shock, no matter from which side it comes, and in 
 this latter case the needle will be more powerfully magnetised than 
 in the former. Lastly, should the needle beplaced perpendicularly 
 to the horizon, and the shock passed by one or other of its extremi- 
 ties, the lower one will always point to the north." 
 
 * In submitting iron to a certain process, it is rendered much 
 harder and very brittle : it is then called steel, and ordinary iron 
 takes the name of malleable iron, as opposed to steel. Iron wire, 
 which is readily bent, is made of malleable iron. Needles, which 
 pierce our work so easily, and snap asunder when we try to bend 
 them, are made of steel. Steel and malleable iron have not the 
 same magnetic properties ; the former can only be slowly magne- 
 tised, taking certain precautions, and then it remains magnetised 
 for ever; thus all loadstones are manufactured from steel. The 
 
224 ELECTEICITY, 
 
 "netised, so soon as the voltaic current, I do not stop to 
 explain the word now, crossed a wire rolled round it, 
 and that it ceased to be so, simultaneously with the ces- 
 sation of the current across the wire. 
 
 This fact established, nothing was easier than to set 
 up electric telegraphs. I have told you with what start- 
 ling rapidity electricity rushes from one end to the other of 
 bodies which are good conductors. Let a metallic wire 
 be led out a hundred miles, a thousand if you like, and at 
 the end of its 'journey let it be rolled round a bit of mal- 
 leable iron. At the same moment if from the spot oh 
 which you are standing you send an electric current 
 along your wire, putting it into communication with a 
 pile of which you hold the one end in your hand, the bit 
 of metallic iron at the remote extremity will suddenly be- 
 come a magnet ; this will be quite perceptible to any per- 
 son wishing to see the experiment, as it will attract to it 
 needles which may happen to be presented to it. At the 
 very moment when by a slight blow of the hand you 
 suppress the current by interrupting the communication 
 between the wire and the pile, the artificial magnet will 
 at once lose its borrowed virtue, and cease to possess 
 any power of attraction. This is the principle of the 
 electric telegraph ; and as you see, it is very simple. 
 The rest is only a mechanical affair, and I leave to some 
 one else the task of explaining to you the various kinds 
 which up to the present time have been invented. 
 
 Now,, my dear child, we can pass on to the explana- 
 tion of what is called the nervous system. I have made 
 
 second, namely, malleable iron, receives magnetic virtue imme 
 diately on its simply coming in contact with a magnet, and retains 
 no trace of it after the contact is suppressed. It is just like children 
 who learn their lessons very quickly and forget them, as readily. 
 There are also memories like steel, which require longer time to be 
 acted upon, but in the end are none the worse for that. 
 
ELECTRICITY. 225 
 
 you wait a long time, but it is because we shall find elec- 
 tricity connected with it. This universal power, which 
 seems to preside everywhere, presides also, it is more 
 than probable, over the mysterious acts of life in our 
 bodies ; and it was requisite you should know something 
 of it, before speaking of the nerves which may be con- 
 sidered as its agents. Only, it is neither the electricity 
 of the electrifying machine, nor that of the pile, nor that 
 of the loadstone either ; it is living electricity, if I may 
 so speak, having no resemblance to any other kind in its 
 manifestations, but which is not less the same power 
 producing other results because exercised under different 
 conditions. 
 
 The few remarks we have made to-day are quite suf- 
 ficient to give you an idea of the possible transformations 
 of one and the same power. You have, I presume, no 
 longer any doubt regarding the intimate relationship 
 existing between magnetism and electricity ; and. yet I 
 have not said all, for I might have shown you how elec- 
 tric currents may be produced by magnets, in the same 
 way as we make magnets with electric currents. A 
 magnet is therefore, in reality, a permanent battery ; 
 and scientific men have so perfectly understood this, that 
 they have given the name of poles to the two extremities 
 of the pile ; the positive and the negative. But what 
 a difference ! This battery is under your control. You 
 can touch the two poles at the same moment, and put 
 them in contact with a variety of bodies which would 
 produce marvelous results if acted on by an ordinary 
 pile. Nothing stirs, nothing reveals the presence of the 
 marvelous virtue sleeping imprisoned within it. Iron 
 alone has the privilege of awaking the beautiful sleeper ; it 
 alone can set it working ; it alone can harbor it. What 
 is the rqason of all this ? We know nothing about it. 
 10* 
 
226 ELECTRICITY. 
 
 What is the peculiar property of animal electricity, 
 since I must give it its proper name ? We know nothing 
 of it either. I thought I would tell you this beforehand, 
 lest you should come with exaggerated hopes to. the study 
 we are just entering on. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE NERVES AND SPINAL MARROW. 
 
 I REMEMBER seeing, in the manager's office of one of 
 the first-class hotels on the German border of the Rhine, 
 a large frame, the interior of which was furnished with 
 a variety of small labels, one or other of which, every 
 now and then, sprung up with a sharp, quick sound ; they 
 were raised by an invisible wire, and exhibited a number 
 the number of some particular room, as you may suppose. 
 The manager, thereupon, stretched his hand toward a 
 row of numbered handles placed in a line in front of him, 
 and pulled one of these, when a waiter immediately ran 
 to attend the summons, no matter in what remote part 
 of the house he was wanted. 
 
 In all this you have a representation though but a 
 rough one, it is true of what goes on in your brain. 
 From all parts of the body mysterious threads issue, for 
 the purpose of carrying all their demands to it. The 
 manager pulls the handle, and the waiters are at once on 
 the move. 
 
 You must not, however, suppose that this is in all re- 
 spects a parallel case. We are quite aware from what 
 points these signal wires issue, but no person has as yet 
 been able to discover their precise termination, nor can 
 they determine accurately in what spot the handles used 
 to transmit the orders are placed. In fact, the manager 
 himself has never been visible, though assuredly he exists, 
 inasmuch as there is something to be managed ; but who 
 
 (227) 
 
228 THE NERVES AND SPINAL MARROW. 
 
 he is, and the manner in which his duties are performed 
 in his office, are problems still to be solved. 
 
 The manager's office with its double play of wires, is, 
 my dear child, to some extent, similar to our nervous 
 system. We have now pretty well examined almost 
 all our bodily machinery, and we cannot terminate our 
 lesson better than by considering that portion which may 
 be called its very soul. I speak now as an engineer 
 would do, who sees a soul wherever there is a power, 
 and means no harm in so speaking, though, it is true, he 
 does not deal with intelligent powers ; but we are not 
 yet in a position to speak about intellect. 
 
 I do not recollect whether I ever told you what is 
 meant by a system ; at any rate the explanation will not 
 be inappropriate here. 
 
 In philosophy, a system is an assemblage of ideas in 
 harmony with each other, uniting in concert to establish 
 a doctrine. In physiology it is a series of organs similar 
 in structure, all accomplishing the same function, or, if 
 you prefer the term, all occupied with the same work. 
 Thus the assemblage of bones supporting the body con- 
 stitutes the osseous system ; the assemblage of muscles 
 giving it motion is the muscular system, and so on. 
 
 Now a vast number of duties are required to be per- 
 formed by this nervous system, of which I find myself 
 forced to speak to you, much to my regret, I can tell you ; 
 for the more I reflect, the more I read and re-read my 
 masters, the more I hesitate as to what I am to say to 
 you about it. 
 
 First, then, as we shall presently see, it is an electrify- 
 ing apparatus, and in this capacity it presides over the 
 contractions of the muscles, which, to my idea, are noth- 
 ing more than electric phenomena of a peculiar nature. 
 
 Next, it is an interpreter, informing us of what takes 
 
THE NERVES AND SPINAL MARROW. 229 
 
 place within and without us, telling us this in a very 
 simple way, by the pleasure or the pain which attends 
 each of its revelations. 
 
 Lastly, it is, what shall I call it? an indispensable 
 condition without which we can neither think nor will ; 
 it is to us the organ of thought and will. 
 
 In all this we have just now only one thing to consider, 
 undeniably the easiest, namely, the part which the nervous 
 system plays in connection with our movements. This 
 will complete our history of the walking machine, which 
 has for so long a time occupied our attention. Another 
 subject will immediately follow, which, if I were simply 
 a naturalist, I would call "The history of the feeling and 
 thinking machine ;" but it is not a very attractive title, 
 and would be as repugnant to you as to me ; besides, it 
 would not be correct, for concealed beneath the visible 
 machine lies the invisible ; so let us call it "The history 
 of sensation and thought." 
 
 Let us now rapidly glance at the ensemble of this 
 wonderful apparatus, which plays such an important part 
 in our economy, and leave the details to follow in propor- 
 tion as they become necessary. 
 
 Imagine a number of threads, the fibres of which being 
 untwisted from below become entangled in all directions, 
 and so entwine themselves as to form small strings at 
 first, then small cords communicating from all sides with 
 a kind of centre cord where they are bundled together. 
 This is the simplest idea I can give you of the nerves and 
 of the spinal marrow where they all meet. 
 
 These scattered nerve fibres, which when united form 
 nervous cords, are extremely minute. The keenest eye 
 is quite unable to discern them ; however, thanks to the 
 microscope, we know pretty well how they are formed. 
 
230 THE NERVES AND SPINAL MARROW. 
 
 Have you ever amused yourself by noticing to what 
 an extent a string of treacle hanging from a piece of 
 bread may be stretched? Just imagine one of these 
 strings elongated until it becomes invisible to the naked 
 eye, and encased in a fibrous transparent sheath. This 
 will give you a very tolerable idea of the appearance of 
 nerve fibre in an elementary state, as seen through the 
 microscope. Gratiolet, in his beautiful book on the 
 nervous system, compares the interior of the fibre to a 
 glass thread, which bears some resemblance to our 
 thread of treacle, as I presume he refers to melted glass. 
 
 It is this minute, imperceptible, transparent thread 
 which is the important element of the nervous fibre ; the 
 agent of life, I should say ; and each fibre is under the 
 direction of that part of the body whence it proceeds, 
 which it puts in communication with the centre ; now to 
 carry messages to it, now to bring back orders. 
 
 These fibres all run parallel to each other along the 
 nervous cords, where they are enclosed in a common 
 sheath, and there remain, each as direct and separate 
 from its neighbor, as the different threads of a skein are 
 from each other. . They thus reach the spinal marrow, 
 and continue their course to the base of the brain, at 
 which point you can no longer follow them, and they be- 
 come lost in the inextricable labyrinth of fibres inter- 
 secting one another in every direction in this mysterious 
 region. Thirty-one pairs of nerves emerge right and 
 left, from the spinal marrow through small holes or 
 openings at either side, the whole length of the vertebral 
 column, at the points where the vertebrae unite. They 
 are like so many little doors, by which the agents of life 
 scattered through the body, reach the universal meeting 
 place in compact battalions ; but at the moment of entry, 
 those agents divide in each nerve into two bands, each 
 
THE NERVES AND SPINAL MARROW. 231 
 
 of which branches off into different directions. The one 
 glides into the spinal marrow, at the edge adjoining the 
 base of the vertebral column, the other by the edge in 
 proximity to the dorsal apophyses, if you have not for- 
 gotten these old friends. I would call your attention, 
 en passant, to this division made by the nerves as they 
 approach the marrow. You will see by and by that 
 something very curious is hidden beneath all this. 
 
 These two portions of the marrow that in front and 
 that behind, or the anterior and posterior portions are 
 separated from each other by a deep fissure which runs 
 down the two sides. Another furrow, deeper still, di- 
 vides it in the middle throughout its entire length into 
 two equal parts ; so that in reality we possess two mar- 
 rows ; one to the right and the other to the left. If you 
 have been able to keep in your mind what I told you in 
 my long explanations of the median line, this arrange- 
 ment will not surprise you. You are aware that your 
 body is composed of two halves exactly equal, at least 
 in all that concerns the walking machine ; it is therefore 
 fair that each half should possess its particular marrow. 
 
 Each of these two marrows is, in its turn, composed of 
 two substances. Everything, then, is in couples. The 
 one is of a gray color, forming the nucleus ; the other is 
 white, serving as an envelope to the gray. Their con- 
 sistency is about the same, resembling pulp. Just imag- 
 ine two custards of different colors, the one enclosed 
 within the other. 
 
 Probably all this affords you but little interest, my 
 dear child ; but have patience. You may consider this 
 a kind of geographical lesson, the historical one will 
 follow in due order, but it was necessary beforehand to 
 introduce you to the theatre of action, so as to be able 
 to make you understand what follows. Historians 
 
232 THE NERVES AND SPINAL MARROW. 
 
 adopt this plan when they come to great battles, and 
 the nervous system is our great field of battle ; it is 
 there where the meeting takes place between mind and 
 matter, to express to you, in familiar language, an 
 idea that escapes when we wish to lay hold of it. 
 
 Now it seems that this meeting takes place in these 
 two substances, the white and the gray, which we shall 
 presently fhd spreading out at their ease in the brain. 
 I may as well tell you beforehand, it will increase your 
 interest in them. 
 
 Lastly, to end this description, which I am curtailing 
 as much as possible, there is a triple membrane surround- 
 ing this precious and delicate assemblage upon which 
 our life depends, and which were it less carefully packed 
 up, would be injured by the smallest shock. The term 
 packed up, seems rather trivial, but I cannot find one 
 more fitting. 
 
 The membranes are somewhat oddly named ; but 
 never mind, I will give them as they are. 
 
 That forming the immediate investment of the spinal 
 cord is called the pia mater ; you need not appeal to me 
 for an explanation of the expression, I have never yet 
 met with one. This pia mater, to speak correctly, is 
 only a prolongation of the fibrous sheath, which acts as 
 a common envelope to the nervous fibres, which extends 
 along the marrow, when they penetrate to it. It holds 
 its contents very tightly together, so much so, that, in 
 the event of the smallest rupture to the envelope, a pro- 
 tuberance is visible from the outside, and this support 
 gives it a certain consistency, and in case of a shock, 
 keeps all in its place. 
 
 The dura mater, a name of the same class as the pre- 
 ceding, forms, above the immediate envelope of the mar- 
 row, a second fibrous tube, much more voluminous than 
 
THE NERVES AND SPINAL MARROW. 233 
 
 the marrow, which would oscillate in it, in a most dis- 
 agreeable manner for us, without an admirable arrange- 
 ment of Nature, who has converted this dangerous void 
 into an additional security. 
 
 For this purpose, the inner surface of the dura mater 
 is lined by one of those serous* membranes, of which I 
 have already had occasion to speak when treating of the 
 synovia in the joints, which incessantly distil a fluid 
 drawn from the serum of the blood. This liquid fills up 
 the intervening space between the two envelopes ; and 
 when you have to trust anything very fragile on a long 
 journey, I think you can conceive no safer or more sim- 
 ple mode of packing it, especially if you adopt the pre- 
 caution taken in this instance ; for on all sides, and all 
 along the canal where the marrow swims, as it were, a 
 resisting ligament stretches from one edge to the other, 
 which controls the marrow, and retains it exactly in the 
 centre of its liquid protector. 
 
 For greater security, the dura mater does not fit ex- 
 actly to the sides of the osseous canal of the vertebral 
 column ; if it did, the various shocks to which we are 
 liable, would be too suddenly transmitted to the cord ; 
 it is round, and the canal is triangular. The interval 
 between them, caused by this difference in form, is filled 
 up by a sort of stuffing, composed of the soft tissue, 
 which adheres to the bone on one side, and to the mem- 
 brane on the other ; and this, you will readily believe, 
 goes far more toward breaking a shock, than any amount 
 of hay can do in a hamper of goods. 
 
 Nothing short of all this it required, my little friend, 
 to enable you to use your skipping rope as you do. The 
 poor little pulp that you carry all along your back would 
 
 * This membrane, of an exceedingly fine texture, is called in 
 Greek " arachnoid," moaning spider's web. 
 
234 THE NERVES AND SPINAL MARROW. 
 
 not make much resistance there had it been left at per- 
 fect liberty in the vertebral canal, like a chocolate 
 cream in its crust. 
 
 One word more about the marrow, and we shall have 
 done with it. 
 
 It does not descend to the lowest point of the verte- 
 bral canal, at least not in the same manner as I have 
 described it. Reckoning from the second lumbar verte- 
 bra, below the spot where it receives the nerves of the 
 legs, it sends off prolongations, the appearance of which 
 has suggested the somewhat disrespectful name of horse- 
 tail. In the upper part of the loins, where the nerves 
 of the legs centre, a perceptible enlargement occurs, it 
 then decreases, swelling out again at the lower part of 
 the neck, where it receives the nerves. Lastly, it again 
 diminishes in size, as it approaches the occipital opening, 
 through which it passes into the cranium ; but this pas- 
 sage once effected, the enlargement increases so much, 
 that it is no longer recognizable ; it then loses its 
 former name, and is henceforth called the brain. 
 
 Such changes often take place in upstarts, who, when 
 they become important personages, assume a new name. 
 On this occasion, we have, to speak the truth, to do 
 with a very great personage, so superior in his new rank 
 to what he formerly was, that one may conscientiously 
 adopt the change. 
 
 We are now going to examine it with the attention it 
 merits. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE BRAIN. 
 
 HERE we are in the manager's office. I forewarn you 
 it is a somewhat dark place, but we shall see well 
 enough for this once ; we have only to make an inven- 
 tory. I shall say nothing when we come to ransack the 
 drawers. 
 
 You probably think that the best way to ascertain 
 what lies beneath the skull will be to remove the lid 
 carefully and look within. If you adopt this plan 
 you will be disappointed ; what you would find is 
 simply a covering to that which lies beneath. You 
 would only discover a grayish ca.p divided in the centre 
 and furrowed by large zig-zag folds in all directions, 
 which might even be mistaken for a portion of the in- 
 testines rolled up. This is not the place, then, from 
 which to commence your inspection. 
 
 When we wish to examine the interior of a house we 
 do not climb upon the roof, we enter by the door ; that 
 is what we must do now. 
 
 Suppose we glide in with the marrow through the 
 occipital opening, we shall then be very well situated to 
 commence our observations. 
 
 Here we are, then, immediately above this irregular 
 mass of protuberances, of points, and bony knobs form- 
 ing the base of the skull and from a description of 
 all of which I have hitherto recoiled, when studying 
 this rugged part of the skeleton. As the brain is moulded 
 
 (235) 
 
236 THE BRAIN. 
 
 by the skull, or, to be more exact, the skull by the 
 brain, you must already conclude that we shall have to 
 encounter all sorts of irregularities . 
 
 Hardly has the marrow made its way through the en- 
 trance, than it begins to expand. It continues increas- 
 ing so as to form a kind of rounded pyramid ; this is, in 
 fact, the name given to each of the two halves of this 
 part of the marrow, for it still continues to be marrow, 
 although it has penetrated within the skull. In this 
 region it preserves its general type so distinctly, that a 
 mistake is impossible ; thus it is here called elongated 
 marrow, or medulla oblongata, by anatomists. 
 
 It there receives one upon another, within a very 
 small compass, seven pairs of nerves, which proceed from 
 the tongue, the mouth, the ear, and the face. The ser- 
 vice is far more active in this region than it is along 
 the vertebral column ; it is quite natural to meet with 
 an increased number of the manager's advertising wires 
 here. 
 
 I told you in my last chapter that the nervous fibres, 
 coming from all parts of the body, continue to traverse 
 the entire length of the marrow toward the brain. Ar- 
 rived at the top of our pyramid, they there perform a 
 curious evolution. Those coming from the right side of 
 the body pass to the left, while those coming from the 
 left take the right side. You will see later on the result 
 of this crossing of the fibres, which the investigating 
 scalpel of the anatomist has discovered far in the depths 
 of the pyramid where it slyly takes place. 
 
 This sleight-of-hand trick accomplished, the great 
 transformation commences. 
 
 The upper part of the marrow expanding to a very 
 considerable extent, bursts forth to right and left, and 
 becomes the cerebellum. 
 
THE BRAIN. 237 
 
 Put your hand upon the projection made "by the back 
 of the skull above the neck that is the seat of the cere- 
 bellum, or small brain. It is really a kind of small 
 brain quite distinct from the large one, beneath which it 
 disappears when we look at the cerebral mass from above, 
 and which has its own particular form as well, no doubt, 
 as its own special function. 
 
 It has a furrowed or puckered surface, resembling that 
 of the real brain, but the folds here are quite differently 
 disposed. They have been compared to the leaves of a 
 book. I own I have examined them very carefully, and 
 can in no way trace any such resemblance thereto. Fold 
 a dark-gray shawl very small, and gather up the folds 
 so as to make a rounded buffer of it with a hollow in 
 the centre, and then you will have something that will 
 give you a far better idea of the appearance of the cere- 
 bellum than the leaves of a book, however crumpled they 
 may be. 
 
 I advised you to choose a gray shawl, because the cere- 
 bellum is composed of this gray substance constituting 
 the nucleus of the spinal marrow, but it is traversed in 
 the interior by threads of a white substance, so arranged 
 that when the organ is cut from above downward 
 through the centre, a distinct regular outline of a leaf 
 with all its fibres is discernible. From this design 
 anatomists in a poetic moment gave it the name of 
 arbor vitse. 
 
 Must I say it, my dear child ? Your cerebellum is 
 very small, much smaller by comparison than mine, which 
 ought to be about one-eighth of the total mass of sub- 
 stance lodged in my skull. I say about, because there is 
 no fixed rule for it, and you can readily understand the 
 impossibility of obtaining the accurate weight of any one 
 portion of a living person's body. It is an organ that 
 
238 THE BRAIN. 
 
 requires time to mature, just as the bones do. It waits 
 to begin its ordinary development until the time when 
 we look for down upon youths' cheeks, and expect young 
 ladies to become reasonable. 
 
 The cerebellum is divided into two equal parts. This 
 being the invariable rule from the top to the bottom of 
 the median line, I should not waste my time in again 
 alluding to the fact, had I not some reason for so doing. 
 These two halves are united underneath, by a large 
 bundle of white substance which rests against the base 
 of the skull, concealing what remains of the medulla ob- 
 longata, over which it passes, like the arch of a little 
 bridge thrown across a stream. 
 
 The marrow as if taken prisoner, enclosed within a 
 ring between the cerebellum which overhangs it and its 
 uniting bundle, disappears at this point. For this rea- 
 son, the bundle projecting beyond the cerebellum has 
 been called the annular protuberance ; but it has also 
 another name, and one you will more readily remem- 
 ber, viz., the pons Yarolii. 
 
 There are favored hours in science as well as in all 
 other things. Happy he who succeeds in making use- 
 ful discoveries. This Varolius, who has stamped his name 
 under all our skulls, immortalized himself at a very 
 small cost, with this bundle of the cerebellum. The dis- 
 covery was by no means a very difficult one. In my last 
 letter to you I spoke about geography. Varolius flour- 
 ished in the sixteenth century, the period of great geo- 
 graphical discoveries in the human body as well as upon 
 the globe. He lived at the time when anatomy was only 
 in its infancy and its discoveries at their dawn, and thus 
 had the good fortune to be one of the first who deline- 
 ated a map of the brain, upon which he inscribed his 
 own name, as invariably happens in similar cases. It is 
 
THE BRAIN. 239 
 
 however, a map as valuable as any other ; and when the 
 progress of general instruction shall have placed every 
 one in a position to see their way within the labyrinth 
 of the brain, I do not know that I would exchange the 
 honor of discovering the pons Yarolii for that of the dis- 
 covery of the strait of its contemporary, Magellan. Sci- 
 entific men in the present day have no such good fortune 
 to expect. The geography of the brain is complete or 
 very nearly so, and discoveries there are as unlikely as 
 in the Mediterranean Sea. It is true that in the time of 
 Varolius, anatomical experiments were sometimes as 
 dangerous as the expeditions of those intrepid navigators 
 who made the tour of the world in mere shells of ships. 
 Anatomical investigations might have brought their 
 authors to the stake. It is said that the illustrious. Ye- 
 salius, who placed the scalpel in the hands of Yarolius, 
 was obliged, while giving his first lessons, to conceal 
 himself as if he had been a malefactor. The conserva- 
 tors of ignorance, in those days, raised the hue and cry 
 of profanation and some of them may charge me with 
 
 the same thing for having attempted But we 
 
 have gossiped enough on this point ; let us now return 
 to the marrow : 
 
 It reappears beyond the bridge of Yarolius, in the 
 form of two little thick cords, which unite and form a 
 mass, the irregularities on the surface of which furnished 
 a fine field for the play of the imagination of early inves- 
 tigators. They saw in them all kinds of resemblances 
 which I need not allude to here, particularly as up to the 
 present day, we have been unable to discover what is 
 the exact part these hollows and elevations perform in 
 the human machine, the outlandish names of which would 
 teach you nothing. 
 
 The whole terminates in four small eminences, which 
 
240 THE BRAIN. 
 
 are designated optic lobes ; the term sufficiently explains 
 their use. They preside over the sight ; and it is here 
 that the principal branches of the nerve of the eye are 
 united to the central organ ; the nerve, I mean, through 
 the medium of which we see ; for in addition to this, the 
 eye has other nerves to which it owes its exquisite 
 sensibility and its variety of movements. 
 
 The region of the optic lobes is, we may say, the up- 
 per extremity of the marrow which stops here. We, 
 however, have not quite finished with it yet. 
 
 Do you remember what I once said to you regarding 
 the bone of the nose, that rudimentary vertebra which I 
 represented to you as "the last effort of nature in 
 its completion of the vertebral column " (see Chapter 
 VIII., on the head and chest.) Well, the idea I 
 wished to give you in that instance, finds a sort of con- 
 firmation here. There is also a last effort at construc- 
 tion in the marrow when it reaches its extreme limit. 
 Two horns branch out from its extremity, of which they 
 seem like a prolongation, and can you guess what they 
 are ? They are neither more nor less than the olfactory 
 nerves,* which, terminating at the upper part of the nose, 
 preside over the sense of smell. 
 
 Before ending in this rudimentary nasal vertebra, the 
 vertebral column rises in an arch, thus forming the skull. 
 The same with the marrow ; before producing the 
 olfactory nerves with their bulbs, it gives birth to the 
 marvellous guest for which the skull has been con- 
 structed. 
 
 I have not given you the names of these two thick 
 cords which spring from beneath the pons Varolii, the 
 bridge of Varolius ; they are called the peduncles of the 
 brain. I conclude you have learned enough of botany to 
 
 * Olfactory, from the Latin word, olfacere, to smell. 
 
THE BRAIN. 241 
 
 understand the meaning of the word peduncle. It is 
 what is commonly called the stalk, that by which the 
 fruit is attached to the tree ; but never peduncle bore 
 fruit equal to that which grows here on the marrow. 
 Whilst its lower part continues to thread its way dis- 
 tinctly along the base of the skull, the peduncle spreads 
 itself upward, and projecting its fibres in every direc- 
 tion, loses itself in the expanded mass of the brain 
 proper. 
 
 11 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 THE BRAIN (Continued). 
 
 IT is a pity that for this once we must confine ourselves 
 to a description of the brain ! There are many subjects 
 more amusing than this ; nevertheless it may interest 
 you to learn something about the formation of an organ 
 which is, without doubt, the noblest if not the most 
 essential of the whole body ; that one in which resides 
 do not take it amiss your little self; for were it to 
 cease working, all that would remain of you would be a 
 mere machine, unconscious of everything, even of your 
 oWn existence. Your body may be considered as your 
 house, but your brain is your chamber, your own private 
 corner. You will not complain, then, I am sure, of the 
 hurried glance we are going to take of it. 
 
 The brain being placed upon the median line, it natur- s 
 ally follows that, like the cerebellum, the marrow, and 
 other portions of the body, it is also divided into two 
 equal parts. Only in this instance, the line of partition 
 is more strongly marked than elsewhere. The cerebral 
 hemispheres^such is the name given to these two halves 
 are separated, the one from the other, by a deep fur- 
 row, which descends almost half way to the base of the 
 skull. It is only at the base that they unite on a layer 
 of white substance, called the corpus callosum, or callous 
 body, a name that I should feel puzzled about if called 
 upon for an explanation. I fully understand and most 
 probably you do also what is meant when one speaks 
 (242) 
 
THE BRAIN. 243 
 
 of a callous hand ; but as for this callous body, which is 
 nothing more than a thin, delicate slice of brain, I own 
 that I know not for what reason it has been so named. 
 
 I spoke to you about the three vertebras which are to 
 be found in the skull. This division has its parallel in 
 the brain, which is transversely divided into three lobes, 
 as they are called ; the anterior lobe, which is formed 
 under the frontal bone ; the posterior, under the occipital ; 
 and the median, which corresponds to the parietal bone. 
 
 To be honest with you, my dear child, very minute in- 
 spection is necessary to recognise, amid the numerous 
 furrows visible on the surface of the brain, the respec- 
 tive limits of these three lobes ; above all, that of the 
 two last named ; it being, between ourselves, a somewhat 
 conventional limit. I strongly suspect that anatomists 
 have taken the same liberty in the construction of their 
 chart, as diplomatists sometimes do with theirs ; with 
 the best will in the world I have the greatest difficulty 
 imaginable to see in the line which they have invented, 
 anything which might be called a natural boundary or 
 frontier. As to the line of demarcation on the frontal 
 lobe, that is quite another affair. Nature has marked it 
 by a fissure or furrow much deeper than the others ; it 
 bears the name of the Fissure of Sylvius. You must also 
 bear this name in mind, for Sylvius, like Varolius, was 
 one of those happy and fortunate individuals of the six- 
 teenth century, who founded modern anatomy ; but the 
 former has the superiority over the latter, inasmuch as 
 he was not the disciple but the master of Yesalius. 
 
 I have already informed you that the whole surface of 
 the brain has the appearance of a grayish mass ; the in- 
 tejior is white. Here we again encounter the two sub- 
 stances which I pointed out to you in the marrow; the 
 gray and the white ; only in the present instance their 
 
244 THE BRAIN. 
 
 positions are changed. We now find that the white sub- 
 stance which in the marrow covered the gray, is here 
 covered by the gray. A thin layer of this gray substance 
 extends over the entire surface of the three lobes, and 
 may be compared to a species of bark, from which cir- 
 cumstance its somewhat singular name of cortical is de- 
 rived. And now I must tell you, my dear child, that 
 this cortical substance has the honor of being considered 
 as the seat of intelligence, and it is not at all improba- 
 ble that it may be so, After that, how can you judge 
 people by their names ! 
 
 The white substance which fills the interior of these 
 two hemispheres is not a compact mass. You must have 
 observed what large holes you sometimes find in your 
 breakfast roll ; a most unwelcome discovery to a very 
 hungry child. Well, a similar vacuum exists in each of 
 these two hemispheres, and one might truthfully exclaim, 
 What wonderful economy Nature has employed iq her 
 arrangement of the brain ! Most assuredly it is all wisely 
 ordered for our good, else why should she have placed 
 a passage of communication between the exterior surface 
 of th,e hemisphere and its interior cavity, upon the walls 
 of which the highly-favored cortical substance is con- 
 tinued. The intelligent bark you understand what I 
 mean by the expression is thus allowed fuller scope for 
 its development. From this circumstance you will also 
 perceive how unsuitable the term empty-headed is, in the 
 way we frequently hear it employed, to convey anything 
 but a compliment. All of us, without distinction, have 
 empty spaces in our heads ; and were the brain a com- 
 pact mass, it is to be presumed we should gain nothing 
 by it. 
 
 The cavities of the two hemispheres, like those of the 
 heart, are named ventricles. They are also called lateral 
 
THE BRAIN. 245 
 
 ventricles, from their being one on either side. Exactly 
 at the base of the brain, underneath the callous body, is 
 a third cavity, known as the middle ventricle ; and lastly, 
 the cerebellum has its own ventricle, communicating with 
 the middle one by means of a kind of passage which, ex- 
 tending over the prolongation of the marrow, crosses the 
 pons Varolii. And here the names of our two great an- 
 atomists are brought into contact. This passage of com- 
 munication is known as the Aqueduct of Sylvius. 
 
 I could find you others were I to lead you over the 
 whole brain ; investigators have not been wanting in 
 this locality. I must own I feel some scruples for having 
 introduced you so far into such a labyrinth, in which 
 people will perhaps tell me you have no business, inas- 
 much as no person has yet been able to discover the par- 
 ticular function each part of the brain discharges. How- 
 ever, I hope you will not blame me. Imagine yourself 
 visiting some ancient temple, belonging to a creed no 
 longer existing ; with what curiosity and interest you 
 would pry into its crypts and galleries, although ignorant 
 of their former use. And are you not equally interested 
 in this little living temple, into which the Spirit of the 
 Almighty descends as each good thought ascends ? Can 
 you not survey its details with a curious eye, even though 
 the meaning may often be as a sealed letter to you ? 
 
 I have almost finished ; there is only a tiny chapel to 
 introduce you to, which might be designated the sanc- 
 tuary. I hold to your making its acquaintance ; its name 
 is the pineal gland. 
 
 Immediately by the side of the callous body, and upon 
 the same line, a little above the entrance to the aqueduct 
 of Sylvius, there is a kind of little gray tubercle, quite 
 isolated from the surrounding mass, and which appears 
 as if it had been thrown there as an enigma to be solved. 
 
246 . THE BRAIN. 
 
 Greek physicians, with Galen at their head, misled by 
 its peculiar appearance, imagined this pineal gland to 
 be the seat of the soul. According to their theory, the 
 soul resided there, and guided the body much in the same 
 way as a coachman manages his horses from his seat on 
 the box. Two small white bands proceeding in the 
 direction of the optic lobes, appeared to them fully to 
 corroborate this theory, and were named the reins of the 
 pineal gland. I should never have alluded to this fan- 
 tastic idea, which like many others of its kind would now 
 have been forgotten, had not a modern philosopher of 
 note taken it into his head to revive the supposition, and 
 append his own name to it. This was no other than 
 Descartes, and when you are grown up, take my advice, 
 and read his work called "Discours sur la Methode" in 
 which our ancestors studied the art of reasoning. Thanks 
 to Descartes, the pineal gland has had its palmy days, 
 though unhappily they are passed away, and I truly think 
 the soul would have found it but a poor lodging. Small 
 stones, which medical men designate as calculi,* are of- 
 ten found in this gland. Bichat once found the whole 
 gland transformed into one concrete mass, which by con- 
 tinuing to increase in size attained unusual dimensions. 
 You must agree that in this instance, the soul of him who 
 possessed this pineal gland would have been ill at ease. 
 
 Three envelopes of the spinal marrow are found at 
 their post surrounding the brain ; the pia mater lies im- 
 mediately over the organ ; the dura mater is placed next 
 to the osseous walls without being attached to them ; the 
 spider web of the arachnoid is between the two. You can 
 easily understand that the marrow in its transformed state, 
 
 * From the Latin calculus, a stone. From this the universal ac- 
 ceptation of the word calculation is derived. Roman children were 
 always taught to count with pebbles. 
 
THE BRAIN. 247 
 
 and in a new home, could hardly be expected to have the 
 same coverings as it possessed when in the vertebral 
 canal. When a gentlewoman becomes a duchess, she 
 requires new associates and an improved toilette. 
 
 With each pulsation of the heart, a considerable stream 
 of blood is precipitated toward the brain almost in a 
 straight line ; this part of the body receives a greater 
 quantity of blood at one time than any other ; it is, 
 moreover, the most sensitive, and the most readily de- 
 ranged. A sudden rush of blood proceeding toward it 
 from the great arteries would place it in imminent dan- 
 ger. Nature has provided against this disaster. 
 
 You have a little garden of your own, and you know 
 as well as I do the havock a watering-pot makes 
 among a plot of seeds, if you neglect the precaution of 
 putting on the rose, which, by its multitude of perfora- 
 tions, converts the stream into a gentle shower. A some- 
 what similar precaution has been adopted here. Before 
 penetrating the brain, the arteries employed to convey 
 the blood are subdivided into an infinity of small canals, 
 which, running along, interlace themselves on its surface, 
 and thus, as it were, they shower out the blood, drop by 
 drop. A multitude of small venous canals arranged in 
 the same manner on their part pump out the blood, drop 
 by drop, through thousands of thread-like veins as fine 
 as hair, after it has served its purpose. Thus the circu- 
 lation of the blood in the brain is effected by an endless 
 variety of arrangements, the result of which is to regu- 
 late, in exact proportion, the. departure as well as the 
 arrival of the vital fluid. If the brain is the great in- 
 strument of life, the blood is its virtuoso ; a virtuoso 
 whose caprices would be fraught with danger if too 
 fiery he would break the strings, if too indolent he would 
 allow the harmony to be disturbed. 
 
248 THE BRAIN. 
 
 Now, if you search on the surface of the brain for the 
 pia mater, that dense covering which held the marrow in 
 the centre of the canal, it seems to have disappeared. 
 You only perceive, in its place, the network of which I 
 have just spoken to you, of small arteries and veins, 
 scarcely held together by an imperceptible tissue which 
 can hardly be called a membrane. It is, however, the 
 self-same covering ; and in order to satisfy yourself on 
 this head, turn to the entrance of the occipital opening, 
 when you will see that it has glided with its precious 
 charge within the skull, and is for one moment recognis- 
 able in its passage over the elongated marrow ; but it 
 soon grows thinner, and at last, somehow or other, be- 
 comes annihilated by numerous invasions of small blood- 
 vessels, before which it disappears. It is like a tender 
 mother who sees her child in imminent danger, and con- 
 fides him to the hand outstretched to rescue him. 
 
 Setting out from this point, the duty of immediate 
 protectress, hitherto exercised by the pia mater/passes 
 on to the dura mater, which^in the skull attains an ex- 
 traordinary solidity and thickness. Here, there is no 
 vacuum between the dura mater and the other parts. It 
 is true that the space is much greater, but it is entirely 
 filled up by the cerebral mass, which slightly touches the 
 dura mater, applied closely as it is to the walls of the 
 skull, so that it forms a kind of periosteum to them. It 
 only leaves them, in order to bury itself in the groove 
 running between the two hemispheres ; its powerful in- 
 tervention being necessary to prevent any contusion re- 
 sulting from the repeated' oscillations of the head, and to 
 support the occipital lobe above the cerebellum which it 
 overhangs. You will find no difficulty in recollecting 
 the names given to the two prolongations of the dura 
 mater ; they speak to the imagination. The first bears 
 
THE BRAIN. 249 
 
 the name of sickle, from its. lengthening out in the same 
 sense as the curve of the brain. It pretty nearly resem- 
 bles the blade of a sickle. The second has been called 
 the tent of the cerebellum, from being stretched over it 
 like the canvas of a tent. There is also a third prolonga- 
 tion, which performs the same service for the two halves 
 of the cerebellum that the sickle does to the two hemi- 
 spheres of the brain, and for this reason it is named the 
 sickle of the cerebellum ; but this latter is of very trifling 
 importance compared with the other two. 
 
 The dura mater forms so solid a covering, and ad- 
 heres so firmly to^ the organ it is destined to protect, 
 that the skull may be broken by repeated strokes from a 
 hammer, without injury to what lies underneath. I 
 ought to mention that I here allude to a lifeless skull, 
 which has passed into the anatomist's hands, and the 
 hammer is therefore wielded by a skillful operator. But 
 this is quite sufficient to prove to you how closely and 
 carefully the cerebellum is packed up in this dura mater, 
 and what a small space is left to the liquid secreted by 
 the arachnoid to be effused with impunity. 
 
 On this account, inflammations of this little spider 
 web, insignificant as it is in appearance, so soon termin- 
 ate fatally. Tightly enclosed between the dura mater 
 and the pia mater, scarcely does it begin to secrete a lit- 
 tle more abundantly than usual, than pressure is experi- 
 enced on the brain, the action of which is immediately 
 interfered with. The whole machine is thrown into dis- 
 order, and sometimes after the lapse of a few hours, life 
 becomes extinct, to the no small grief and astonishment of 
 the surviving friends. I hardly know, my dear child, how I 
 had the courage to enter upon such a subject with you ; it 
 awakens in me recollections which send a shudder through 
 my whole frame. Say nothing of this to your mother. 
 11* 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 ANIMAL ELECTRICITY. 
 
 LET us go back for a moment, my dear child, to the 
 " History of a Mouthful of Bread," which I took such 
 pleasure in relating to you when you were much younger 
 than you are now, and when we looke^l upon study as a 
 mere diversion. We have now become more serious, and 
 it is less amusing I know very well ; but you learn more, 
 which is the essential point ; and this will always be the 
 case as you advance in years. Your play-hours will be 
 less numerous, but if you are good, believe me, you will 
 be no loser by the exchange. The realities of life, when 
 we come fully to understand their vast importance, are 
 far, very far superior to the amusements of childhood. 
 
 I hope you have not forgotten the magic steward* I 
 told you about in our earlier interviews, who distributes 
 to the workmen throughout the house we occupy, our 
 body, whatever materials they require, and whose inex- 
 haustible pockets, continually replenished by the stom- 
 ach, contain whatever is necessary to each individual 
 organ. I also told you how in proportion as the con- 
 structions are effected, the materials for which are fur- 
 nished by the blood, they disappear of their own accord, 
 the old bricks making room for the new ones, and re- 
 turning to the torrent which brought them. Later on, I 
 explained the secret of animal heat, always kept up 
 within us to the same temperature, by reason of the in- 
 
 * See " History of a Mouthful of Bread,'*' p. 35. 
 (250) 
 
ANIMAL ELECTRICITY. 251 
 
 cessant combustion of our own substance, and I related 
 some of the feats of oxygen, hydrogen, carbon and azote, 
 or nitrogen " that wonderful quadrille of the aliments* 
 of nutrition," which may be transformed at will. 
 Now albumen, then fibrine, again casein, according as 
 the dancers are grouped for the performance of different 
 figures. 
 
 Remain perfectly still for one moment, give your whole 
 attention to yourself, and listen to the life going on with- 
 in. Do you not perceive a kind of general crackling 
 which becomes stronger the more your thought is fixed 
 upon it ? This crackling continues through life, but we 
 are so accustomed to it that we take no notice of it ; 
 nor would there be any object in our concerning our- 
 selves about it, for we have no power whatever over it. 
 Nay, on the contrary, if I may so express myself, it ex- 
 ercises a power over us a supreme power ; for it is no 
 less than our physical life, the essential basis of all the 
 others, speaking of what we are able to understand. In 
 its depths are found . intermingled, pell-mell, all those 
 phenomena of construction, demolition, combustion, trans- 
 formation of the elements of our substance from one to 
 another, and all this, to give it its true name, is only one 
 continued course of chemical action. 
 
 I made use of the term chemical action, in my note 
 with reference to the pile. I was in a great hurry that 
 day, and knew its turn would come, so I did not explain 
 the term in its proper course. Moreover, chemical action 
 is the very term I should have used when speaking to 
 you of the union of bodies ; therefore the thing itself is 
 already known to you, if the word be not. 
 
 There is a secret power inherent in every atom of the 
 diverse substances that we encounter. Scientific men 
 
 * See " History of a Mouthful of Bread," p. 232. 
 
252 ANIMAL ELECTEICITY. 
 
 speak of it as affinity, a Latin word signifying relation- 
 ship, connexion, in virtue of which they contract unions 
 among themselves which are sometimes lasting, some- 
 times transient, according to their particular character, 
 and also with some regard to the occasion allowed them 
 of showing a fickleness of disposition ; in other words, 
 according as the inducement is more or less urgent to 
 break off old alliances and form new ones. This going 
 and coming of the atoms, clinging together, separating, 
 forming friendships elsewhere again to be broken, is 
 what is called chemical action, because the name chem- 
 istry has been given to the science that treats of these 
 unions and- separations, to turn them to our profit when 
 a body, of which we hold the isolated elements, requires 
 to be formed, or to rescue one element that only con- 
 cerns us from among a multitude of others of which we 
 have no need. 
 
 I spoke to you of all this at pretty considerable 
 length, when I told you of the important services ren- 
 dered us by the pile, and you must already have formed 
 some ideagof the important part electricity plays in all 
 these arrangements. You have seen what an all-power- 
 ful agent it is, in building them up and in destroying 
 them ; but this only gives you one side of the con- 
 nexion existing between chemical action and electricity. 
 If the combinations of atoms are formed and destroyed 
 on the passage of the electric currents, the atoms, in 
 their turn, each time they change their combinations, 
 produce electric currents. Thus it is that we are en- 
 abled to form the most powerful piles, by enclosing 
 certain substances which act upon one another in an ap- 
 paratus suitably arranged. 
 
 When these substances come in contact, their atoms 
 mutually invite to movement, and they run away hither 
 
ANIMAL ELECllftcrTY. 253 
 
 and thither from their present dwelling, to form fresh 
 alliances amongst themselves, or, in other words, to con- 
 stitute a new body. This is the source of the electricity 
 of the pile. Its currents maintain their energy as long 
 as the dance is kept up ; let it begin to flag, and at once 
 their power decreases. They disappear directly the 
 primitive bodies, destroyed and brought to nought by 
 the flight of their atoms, cease to furnish to the new 
 combination the aliment necessary to its continuation. 
 Suppose you found a pile which possessed the power to 
 renew its own provisions of active substances as rapidly 
 as they were destroyed, and also to disencumber itself 
 of their inert products, the consequence would be, its 
 operations would be carried on for an indefinite period, 
 or rather, I should say, as long as the work of renewing 
 and discharging should continue. If you have the 
 curiosity to see a pile of this description anywhere, look 
 at yourself, my dear child ; your own body is one. 
 
 You need not appear so much astonished. It is no 
 cause for wonder that electric currents are produced in 
 the pretty little pile that you form, seeing that this pile 
 is incessantly and in every part at the same moment, 
 the theatre of a myriad of chemical actions, one of which 
 would suffice to produce a current, though it might be a 
 very weak one. It would be cause for astonishment if 
 the laws presiding over the change of atoms, through- 
 out the whole universe, were found purposely suspended 
 in your body, whilst all others, those of motion for ex- 
 ample, exact the same undeviating respect from it that 
 they are accustomed to do from the very stones. Your 
 little body, then, is a pile because it is a chemical labor- 
 atory ; because it is, as I once before told you, a stove,* 
 
 * The fire that we make with our combustibles, being nothing 
 more than a chemical action of an extraordinary energy, he who 
 
254 ANIMA'L ELECTRICITY. 
 
 and because it contains everything that we require 
 to put into our piles when we wish to make them 
 work. 
 
 Do not think disparagingly of yourself, if I appear to 
 place you on a level with a scientific apparatus. He 
 who formed the human pile is much more powerful than 
 Yolta, Bunsen, or Daniell ; more powerful than all the 
 illustrious pile-makers put together, and nothing that is 
 imperfect issues from His hands. 
 
 In the next chapter I will tell you wherein lies 'the 
 overwhelming superiority of the Almighty's work over 
 ours. You have had quite enough to think about for to- 
 day ; fatiguing lectures should be brief. 
 
 If I have been unable to resist the great desire I 
 had to explain some things which may be beyond your 
 years, it is because they shed a wondrous light on what 
 I formerly taught you, without being able fully to carry 
 it out, from your not "knowing anything of electricity. 
 They reveal to you the true reason of this perpetual 
 renewal of our substance, which lives only in virtue of 
 its continuous destruction. Now you understand how 
 the oxygen conveyed in the blood stirs up the organs it 
 comes to burn, by inundating them with electricity, and 
 I ho longer require to teach you that we owe not only 
 animal heat, but even life, to this internal combustion. 
 As I proceed to explain motion to you, you will soon see 
 what a close bond unites our life of nutrition with that 
 of relation, the aliment changing into power as well as 
 into substance ; and that if the members are the ser- 
 vants of the stomach, the stomach is also servant to its 
 
 unthinkingly crams his winter stove, sets incalculable torrents of 
 electricity in motion. If scientific men should one day take it into 
 their heads to treat of the subject, they would very soon convince 
 us of this. 
 
ANIMAL ELECTRICITY. 255 
 
 members ; not onjy because it nourishes them, but also 
 because it helps them to walk. 
 
 Will you not candidly own that all this information 
 is worth a little fatigue ? And if your poor little head 
 is wishing for a rest, thank me, but do not scold me. 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 VOLUNTAEY MOVEMENTS. 
 
 I STOPPED just in time with our last chapter. * That 
 there is within us a production of electric currents may 
 be boldly affirmed from the simple fact that the contrary 
 is impossible, unless, indeed, all the laws of the universe 
 were reversed ; therefore I felt I was right in speaking 
 to you with confidence. I should, however, have been 
 obliged to lower my tone, had I then touched on the 
 question which is now to occupy us ; viz., what is the 
 action of these electric currents, what ends do they serve, 
 and in what manner are they directed ? It is not pre- 
 cisely suitable for one of your age, my dear child, to hear 
 these mysteries discussed, and I do not know how to set 
 about presenting you with an enigma, the solution of 
 which has puzzled stronger heads than yours. My cour- 
 age will be like that of certain soldiers on the field of 
 battle, who march forward simply because their retreat 
 is impossible. 
 
 Have you ever asked yourself what is meant by the 
 will? No. I am sure you have not. It is one of those 
 things children never do ask, because they never trouble 
 themselves about it. The will is when we will a thing, 
 you will most probably reply. I*have many a time re- 
 ceived this answer during the years that I have taught 
 a young ladies' class, and it is as good as one of a more 
 pretentious kind. Certain it is we have within us a 
 something of which we are perfectly conscious, by means 
 
 (25G) 
 
VOLUNTAEY MOVEMENTS. 257 
 
 of which we command our members to execute move- 
 ments that are agreeable to us. To will does not suffice, 
 however, in order to the execution of the movement ; it 
 would be far too easy if that were all : with the best 
 will in the world, when our strength is exhausted we 
 can do no more. Exhausted strength, what does that 
 imply? There is, then, a power, which receives its 
 orders from the will, and executes those orders whilst 
 strength permits. If this power be not the electricity 
 produced within us, by the perpetual interchange of 
 atoms, I do not know where to look for it, and I shall 
 soon have a grand proof to produce in its favor, in show- 
 ing you the electricity from without incontestably exer- 
 cising over our muscles the action which I conclude is 
 exercised by that from within. 
 
 Now, here is the mystery ! 
 
 Let your mother give you an order ; you, as an obedi- 
 ent child, at once do* just what she bids you ; it never 
 occurs to any one to express the least astonishment. 
 There is no great difficulty in establishing connexion 
 between your mother and yourself. You and she form, 
 as it were, but one soul, and it is almost as if she had 
 given the order to some part of herself. 
 
 When your father calls his dog forgive the compari- 
 son, I will show you presently that it was necessary ; 
 well then, when your father calls his dog, and the intel- 
 ligent animal runs up to him, leaving everything to obey 
 its master, this obedience creates no surprise in the mind 
 of any one present. Great as the distance may be be- 
 tween the dog and ourselves, we are well aware, that 
 it is not insuperable, and that the dog is an old servant 
 that we are accustomed to. Nevertheless, the difference 
 is great. If you were to order Turk to wash himself in 
 the morning, and to soap his paws without helping him, 
 
253 VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 
 
 I think you would find it a difficult matter to make your- 
 self understood. But it is unnecessary to say anything 
 more about this. 
 
 Now, try in your turn to attract to you, without show- 
 ing them any bread, the little gold-fish which are in the 
 globe in the dining-room. I say try, for there is just a 
 possibility that you may succeed. Fish are too far 
 removed from us in the scale of animal life for the most 
 rudimentary conversation between us to be understood ; 
 but they have eyes with which they can see us, appetites 
 that we can satisfy ; a species of understanding is, to a 
 certain point, possible between them and us, and there 
 is nothing very ridiculous in the idea of giving them an 
 order. 
 
 But what would you say of a gentleman who should 
 undertake to exact obedience from an oyster, to make 
 it open or close its shell when ordered to do so ? Such 
 an individual would render himself liable to be sent 
 to a lunatic asylum, to carry out his experiments there. 
 Between the oysters and ourselves there can be no 
 mutual understanding ; any one must be devoid of 
 reasoning who could for one moment suppose that 
 there is. 
 
 Do not be impatient, you will see my meaning directly. 
 If we are obliged to renounce the possibility of being 
 obeyed by the oyster, how much more difficult must it be 
 to obtain obedience from the shell. It is self-evident 
 that inanimate objects cannot be subject to our orders. 
 Did the idea ever come into your head as to the possi- 
 bility of your controlling the rain that falls, the wind 
 that blows, the heat that issues from a stove, or the 
 electricity that runs along the wires of the pile ? Well, 
 it is exactly this last miracle that is performed by you, 
 each time you raise your arm. You will something, and 
 
VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 259 
 
 the electric currents obey. Over what bridge is the 
 passage of your will transmitted to them ? Ask the 
 Great Architect who has constructed it ! 
 
 Very probably you are anxious to know what becomes 
 of these docile currents, which ever appear ready to put 
 the members in motion upon the first signal of the will, 
 whilst the body is in a state of repose, and you ask me, 
 Do they sleep when the members do ? or are they shut 
 up in barracks like so many soldiers in time of peace, 
 waiting for the moment of action ? 
 
 Certainly not do not imagine such a thing, Nature 
 has no warehouses stored with unemployed forces ; she 
 knows too well how to produce them the very moment 
 she requires them. 
 
 You already know it is learned soon eriough that 
 when nations are not agreed among themselves, they 
 have recourse to war in order to ascertain who is in the 
 right ; for this reason we have armies which are natural- 
 ly more numerous during war than in a time of peace ; 
 this is what is called being on a war footing. A nation 
 that knows how to conduct itself prudently keeps only 
 the amount of armed force necessary to maintain order 
 during the time of peace. Each man attends to his own 
 business, without troubling himself about the govern- 
 ment ; indeed, so far as he is concerned, it might easily 
 not be in existence. Instead of the national wealth 
 being squandered, it accumulates, and proves an invalu- 
 able resource in days of strife. If war is declared, 
 government immediately issues a call to arms, and 
 armies appear to come out of the earth as if by en- 
 chantment. 
 
 Nature has adopted exactly the same arrangement 
 in us. 
 
 During the moments of rest, the pile of which we have 
 
260 VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 
 
 been speaking is self acting, utterly regardless of the 
 will, and only produces the exact amount of power that 
 is requisite to keep up the work going on in the organs ; 
 a work which would suddenly come to an end, if these 
 electric currents did not traverse them. It is here that 
 the provision of substances accumulates, destined to be 
 consumed, in supplying us with force, when an extra de- 
 mand for it shall be made. 
 
 Movement is perpetual warfare ; our arms war with 
 all that we pull, all that we push, all that we lift, all 
 that we strike ; our legs war with every obstacle that 
 lies in our path ; the entire body wars with this ever- 
 present enemy which we* call gravitation, and which 
 stretches us on the ground, the moment we cease to 
 struggle with its influence. I daresay you never thought 
 of all this, my dear child ; but you might say to your- 
 self as you raise your spoon to your mouth, that you 
 and it are at war. You oblige it to ascend, while it 
 would like to descend. 
 
 It is at such times as these that the government wakes 
 up. As soon as its counsels have determined to open 
 hostilities, the will issues its despatches, and in the 
 twinkling of an eye the muscles are all ready for the 
 combat, the blood suddenly rushes to the call, movement 
 of the atoms is accelerated ; the supplementary currents 
 all at once spring up, and under their action the muscu- 
 lar fibre, just now motionless and extended, shortens, and 
 contracts, carrying with it in its movement, the parts of 
 the framework to which it is attached. 
 
 I have yet to tell you how these electric currents de- 
 termine muscular contraction ; how, at least, we are best 
 enabled to represent their action. I shall reserve this 
 explanation for our next meeting. 
 
 Before we part, I do not wish to allow FO good an 
 
VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 261 
 
 opportunity to escape without explaining to you what 
 sleep is, which is our great time of peace. 
 
 Movement has its charms for us, and so has war, it ap- 
 pears, for some nations. Still, when it !s prolonged 
 beyond certain limits, and has caused the country too 
 large an expenditure of energy and men, for these are 
 its component atoms, in vain government issues its de- 
 spatches ; the people, exhausted, lie down upon the parth 
 and beg for sleep. 
 
 This is your daily history when you have given the 
 reins to your electric current, and when your stock of 
 destructible substances is exhausted. Your drowsy 
 subjects turn a deaf ear to the call to arms made by the 
 will. However valiant a warrior you may be, you must 
 then beat a retreat before this overwhelming force, and 
 you will soon find defeat await you on your pillow. 
 We should not curse war as we do were it always to 
 end thus. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 
 
 VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS (Continued.) 
 
 A FRIEND of mine was talking to me one day of a 
 motor power which he had been fortunate enough to dis- 
 cover. If you do not happen to know the meaning of 
 the term motor power, let me tell you that the expres- 
 sion is applied to every kind of machine capable of 
 producing movement. 
 
 Here in a few words is the discovery made by my 
 friend ; and after the little lesson I recently gave you 
 on the subject of magnetism, I think you should be quite 
 able to understand all I am going to tell you. 
 
 Picture .to yourself a double rosary composed of small 
 pieces of soft iron placed at short distances from each 
 other yet united by flexible fastenings. A spiral copper 
 wire is rolled round each of the rosaries, which can, at 
 will, be immediately placed in communication with a 
 pile in a state of activity. A very simple contrivance 
 establishes a communication between the two wires, so 
 that each rosary, in its turn, is embraced in the electric 
 current. 
 
 You are aware that under these circumstances soft 
 iron becomes magnetised. The little magnets, which 
 are thus suddenly produced in the rosary subjected to 
 the current,. having their poles necessarily in the same 
 direction, seeing that they are in a line, it follows that 
 each north pole faces a south one, the extremities always 
 excepted, and 15^ reason of the law I before explained 
 (262) 
 
VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 263 
 
 to you, viz., that " bodies electrified in an opposite man- 
 ner will always attract eacli other " all these magnets 
 make a sudden rush at one another. Again, imagine 
 ten such magnets all placed in a line, an inch being left 
 between each ; directly their poles are united by recip- 
 rocal attraction, so as to form one unbroken line, your 
 rosary will be exactly ten inches short of its original 
 length, a very considerable difference, you will say. 
 
 Now if you arrange the two rosaries so that they can 
 act in an inverse manner upon a rod of wood or iron, 
 each chaplet will attract the rod in its turn ; the mag- 
 netism in the pieces of iron being conveyed with the 
 electric current from one to the other, and a see-saw 
 movement of the rod will be established similar to that 
 of the piston of a steam-engine at work. Hook the bar 
 on to anything you choose, whether lever, bar, or crank, 
 and it will work just as a piston does. 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed I, as my friend concluded his explana- 
 tion, " it 's the human arm you have been inventing there 1 " 
 
 I do not pretend to say that my exclamation was 
 perfectly correct. This is not exactly the arm of a man, 
 but I am greatly mistaken if the movements of the 
 human arm do not take place after this manner. 
 
 And here, my dear child, I think it advisable to re- 
 peat a remark I made to you when speaking of muscular 
 fibre. I told you in an earlier chapter that " these 
 threads, or fibres, look like a kind of rosary, the beads 
 of which placed at certain distances from each other 
 alternately shorten or lengthen the fibre according as 
 they approach each other, or return to their original 
 position." 
 
 One thing was wanting in my lesson at that time ; it 
 was the explanation of the alternate movements of the 
 muscular fibre. This I could not give you then. Now, 
 
264 VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 
 
 without pretending to enter fully on the subject, I can 
 at least give you an idea of the manner in which they 
 are produced. 
 
 Whatever be its origin, it seems to me evident .that 
 when we will a movement, an electric current rushes 
 from the brain along the nerves to the muscle intended 
 to execute it, and there determines a flow of blood, 
 together with the necessary chemical action. The beads 
 of the muscular rosary must then become so many small 
 magnets, each having its pole in the same direction, and 
 attracting each other with a power proportioned to the 
 energy of the magnetism transmitted, the muscle remain- 
 ing contracted so long as this influence continues. It is 
 thus on account of the peculiar electric condition of the 
 biceps and the muscles of the shoulder that the forearm 
 bends on the arm, and the arm on the body. If we wish 
 to bring the arm forward, the cerebral current imme- 
 diately changes its direction, transporting itself to the 
 antagonistic muscles ; these in their turn contract, bear- 
 ing away the bone in a contrary direction ; the rosaries of 
 the opposite side, suddenly losing their magnetic influ- 
 ence, allow their beads full liberty as soon as they are 
 abandoned by the current. 
 
 All this appears very scientific, does it not ? and yet 
 I have dispensed with all the mysterious parts in this 
 game of electricity, which, for very good reasons, I have 
 by no means fully explained. Whatever use you may 
 be enabled to make of this partial explanation, it is 
 sufficient to give you some notion of the wonderful way 
 in which our muscles contract ; and if you one day 
 chance to see your mother's needle and scissors magne- 
 tized by repeated contact with her fingers, you will un- 
 derstand how it all happens. 
 
 Whilst we are speaking about fingers, I wish to call 
 
VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 265 
 
 your attention to- something that you may probably 
 never have noticed. 
 
 Open your hand and stretch out your fingers, then try 
 to close the middle one, keeping the others fully ex- 
 tended. If you succeed, you are cleverer than I am. 
 Although my whole will is concentrated upon my middle 
 finger, I cannot master it. Every time I attempt to 
 close it, all its companions move along with it, waiting 
 for no order ; nay, it is worse than this, for they move 
 contrary to my order. The fault must surely be mine, 
 for I have seen people obeyed under similar circumstan- 
 ces, and the middle finger close upon the palm of the 
 hand, whilst all the others remained extended. It must 
 be that the electric currents communicated to my hand 
 by the instigation of my will are like so many disobedi- 
 ent servants following a routine, and being in the habit 
 of moving in unison, refuse to act singly, whenever I am 
 disposed to call on them to do so. Pierre Gratiolet, in 
 the remarkable book which he has left us on " La Phy- 
 sionomie et les Mouvements d'Expression," gives the 
 name of sympathetic to those movements which we are 
 called upon to make simultaneously with other move- 
 ments, and which the will does not always accomplish 
 without severe discipline. He especially notices a child's 
 first efforts in learning to play on the piano the great 
 difficulty it experiences in acquiring a perfectly inde- 
 pendent movement with its two hands the trouble and 
 tedious practice necessary before it can play a scale so 
 steadily, that the little finger of the left hand exactly 
 coincides with the thumb of the right, and the first finger 
 of the one hand with the third of the other. 
 
 This leads me to speak of the freedom of action in this 
 little kingdom of arms and legs, over which you preside, 
 although you are perhaps less absolutely its queen than 
 12 
 
266 VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 
 
 you would naturally suppose. Besides this voluntary 
 movement, which is entirely subordinate to your will, 
 there is also a mechanical one, which the machine exe- 
 cutes without any intervention on your part, just as a 
 well-trained animal may be taught what is expected of 
 it, and to attend to its duties without being constantly 
 guided to them by its master. In the act of walking, 
 for instance, when you are absorbed, I will not say in 
 your thoughts, though that will come in good time, but 
 in one of those interesting conversations you carry on 
 with your little friends, how frequently you dispense 
 with this voluntary movement, and substitute the me- 
 chanical one ! Your will is all the time occupied with 
 something else, yet your legs continue to carry you 
 along of their own accord, without a false step. Be 
 honest now, and own that you would be sorely puzzled 
 if the whole management of walking was left to your 
 own guidance. You control your steps much in the 
 same way as three-fourths of our kings declare war ; 
 they give the signal for it, but it is carried on without 
 their assistance. 
 
 These habits, which our agents adopt, and then, after 
 a time, carry on without any help from us, are not the 
 least of the mysteries found in our organization. I can 
 bear testimony to a very tiresome trick my hands are 
 guilty of, and which I have been unable to cure them of 
 hitherto. Every evening, before I undress for bed, I am 
 accustomed to wind up my watch, which is all very right 
 and proper if you want to know what o'clock it is when 
 you rise on the following morning. Now when I have 
 occasion to change my clothes during the day, no sooner 
 do I unhook my watch-chain from the buttonhole of my 
 waistcoat, than my hands, taking advantage of my 
 thoughts being occupied with something else, stealthily 
 
VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 267 
 
 set to work, and before I know what I am doing, the 
 watch is wound up. Who is the agent in this instance ? 
 Am I the agent? Did my hands perform the deed? 
 Certainly I could not have done it, for I was not think- 
 ing of it. 
 
 Now observe, that the watch is not wound up by one 
 single movement, by one emancipated muscle which slyly 
 contracts itself ; there is a whole series of complicated 
 movements, which I need not enumerate. You have but 
 to call to mind the working of your fingers as you wind 
 up that pretty little watch of which you feel so proud. 
 But, compared with what I have to tell you, all this is 
 very insignificant. 
 
 How long and how patiently your mother devoted her- 
 self to teaching you to speak ! You can neither recol- 
 lect nor realize the labor it cost her ! You will one day 
 know it, if you should have a child of your own whom 
 you would teach to say mamma. If you take notice 
 then, you will see that in ordei? to pronounce each of the 
 syllables, of which words are composed, the tongue and 
 lips must assume a variety of positions successively. 
 The lips open, then close, are pressed together, and ad- 
 vance, whilst the tongue strikes against the palate at 
 one moment, leans against the upper teeth at another, or 
 gently places its tip just within the lips. Added to all this, 
 each muscle of the chest, throat, jaws, cheeks, and even 
 of the nose, has its peculiar work which is constantly 
 changing. In order to pronounce the simple word con- 
 fiture, which seems to come quite naturally from your 
 lips, you have no idea of the number of little muscles 
 that are at work at the same moment, and the various 
 manoeuvres they have to execute. Thus you see the first 
 words little children utter are composed of one syllable 
 twice repeated, as papa, dada. It is so difficult for them 
 
268 VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 
 
 to enunciate at first that all they can do after having 
 succeeded in pronouncing a syllable, is to recommence ; 
 the fatigue of passing on to something fresh would be too 
 much for them. 
 
 Tell me, if you can, what is become of all the effort 
 each word cost you as you learned to stammer it out? 
 How is it that you now can prattle away for hours to- 
 gether without a pause, just as if the words were so much 
 running water ? It is simply because the education of 
 this set of servants is completed, and they cease to cause 
 you any anxiety. No matter at what speed the lit- 
 tle tongue runs on, each word finds the muscles at 
 their post, and the rapidity of thought to conceive a sen- 
 tence is frequently surpassed by that with which it is 
 pronounced. 
 
 In all this, may we not ask, as we make use of our 
 tongues, To whom then does belong the honor of speech ? 
 I answer : To our intelligence ; because, although the 
 mechanism of words is claimed by the muscles, we must 
 in the first instance furnish the ideas they express, which 
 is evidently a higher power. But I have something 
 more extraordinary yet to tell you. 
 
 I know a very old lady who, when a little girl, was 
 taught a prayer which she repeated, as too many children 
 are in the habit of doing, without once thinking of the 
 meaning of the words. Let me observe, in passing, that 
 to offer mere lip homage to our Maker, in which the 
 heart takes no share, is but mockery. You may as well 
 imitate the Tartars, who stick their prayers upon a roller 
 and turn it with all their might, exhorting it to intercede 
 for them. God, who looks into the heart, sees and 
 knows who really desire to honor Him, and He knows 
 how far this old lady acts up to what she has been 
 taught ; it is the intention He considers. Strange as it 
 
VOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 269 
 
 appears, though she has quite forgotten the prayer taught 
 her in her childhood, for words to be retained in the 
 memory must have some hold upon the mind, yet when 
 the desire suddenly seizes her, this old lady will go 
 through the prayer by rote. Perhaps you have some- 
 times heard of travellers, who, losing their way at night^ 
 and despairing of recovering the beaten track, will 
 throw the rein upon the horse's neck and trust to its 
 guidance. This is precisely what my old lady friend ap- 
 pears to do ; she shuts her eyes so that nothing may out. 
 wardly interrupt the performance of her duty, and fear- 
 lessly yields the rein to the muscles which preside over 
 speech. These muscles have performed their work so 
 repeatedly that they are easily set in motion, and the 
 prayer which its mistress has mentally forgotten, the 
 lips are made to utter mechanically ; "but I must admit 
 that the prayer is blurted out, and if she is interrupted? 
 all is lost. Who after that would quarrel with muscles 
 which perform such a wonderful feat of memory ? 
 
 Assuredly, if these are also voluntary movements in- 
 asmuch as the will gives an impulse to the speaking 
 machine, you must own "they have reason to boast of 
 their independence, and I leave it to philosophers to point 
 out the director of this assemblage of muscular contrac- 
 tions which rapidly and blindly succeed each other in 
 the same invariable order. 
 
 The question is far beyond us, and I prefer making 
 this occasion profitable by exhorting you, whenever you 
 commit anything to memory, to store the words well in 
 your head, and not on your lips, as certain young ladies of 
 my acquaintance do, who read their lessons over as loud 
 as they can that their muscles maybe well exercised for the 
 recital. How will you make any progress by teaching 
 words to your muscles ? What are they to do with them? 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE CEREBELLUM. 
 
 I ADVISED you at the close of the last chapter not to 
 teach your muscles any words. It is not exactly the 
 muscles which learn, although to speak the truth, it 
 amounts to the same thing ; they seem to- learn. In order 
 to acquaint ourselves with what goes on in their pro- 
 vince, we shall require to take a little tour through the 
 capital, or in other words, pay a visit to the head, since 
 the word capital is, as you probably know, derived from 
 the Latin caput, signifying a head. 
 
 I have already informed you, that this invisible direc- 
 tor, who imparts impulse to the muscles, and holds in 
 his hand all the telegraphic wires by which the orders 
 of your will are transmitted, resides in the brain. You 
 are this director. To call him by his proper name, he is 
 your own- little self, and he is incapable of performing 
 any act without your knowledge. 
 
 Now there is also a sub-director, in close proximity to 
 this director, through whose hands each wire must pass 
 before it reaches its destination ; he is the real regulator 
 of each manoeuvre the muscles perform, and this is no 
 longer you ; he works in the dark without- letting you 
 into the secret of his acts and gestures. What he is, no 
 one knows ; his whereabouts only is known ; for he re- 
 sides in the cerebellum and its dependencies, or, to be 
 accurate, in the pons Yarolii and around the Aqueduct 
 of Sylvius. I hope you have not lost sight of the little 
 (270) 
 
THE CEREBELLUM. 271 
 
 chart we made of the brain. Order and the progress of 
 movement are regulated in this department ; we have a 
 most beautiful proof of this, or a horrible proof, you may 
 feel inclined to call it, when you know the facts, and 
 you are at liberty to call it so if you please. 
 
 The species of study which I m^pnd to bring before 
 your notice first suggested itself, at least on a large 
 scale, to the mind of a French physiologist named Ma- 
 gendie. It is a barbarous study seemingly, for it has 
 caused thousands of animals to be cruelly put to death ; 
 but where science is concerned, savants look upon any 
 leaning to the side of humanity as only puerile. Are 
 they justified in this? It is not for me to decide. 
 Every one has his own conscience, let that be his 
 guide. 
 
 I borrow the subjoined facts from Milne-Edward's 
 " Cours de Zoologie." 
 
 If, after opening an animal's skull, you cut a small 
 portion from off the base of the brain, situated in the 
 vicinity of the cerebellum, and which is known as the 
 corpus striatum or striated body, though for what rea- 
 son I cannot say, the animal suddenly darts forward as 
 if carried away by an irresistible power, and it runs on 
 and on until some obstacle presents itself in Us path, 
 or it stops through sheer exhaustion, but backward it 
 cannot go, for it is deprived of all retrograde move- 
 ment. 
 
 Again, if a section be made simultaneously, on each 
 side of the cerebellum, or pons Yarolii, the result will be 
 exactly the reverse ; in this instance the animal makes 
 an equally sudden rush, but the motion is retrograde, 
 and according as the animal is a quadruped, a fish, or a 
 bird, it will walk, swim, or fly backward, having lost all 
 power to move forward. 
 
272 THE CEREBELLUM. 
 
 Lastly, if an incision be made in one side of the cere- 
 bellum, or pons Varolii, you will witness a no less sin- 
 gular result ; the wounded creature will revolve upon 
 itself ; if the incision has been made at the right side, 
 the movement will be from right to left ; if on the left 
 side then the movement will be reversed ; and so rapid 
 has it been in some instances, that more than sixty revo- 
 lutions in a minute have^been remarked. 
 
 From all this it may warrantably .be concluded that a 
 despatch office exists below the apartments of the will, 
 whence orders are issued to every part of the body, and 
 that it resembles an ordinary government, inasmuch as, 
 to enforce obedience, the offices must be intact. Nay, 
 the case is even more serious ; one false despatch issued 
 by the subaltern sets all in motion, but precisely in an 
 opposite manner to what is intended. 
 
 We are now in possession of a key to these movements^ 
 which are executed either without the will being con- 
 sulted on the subject, or in direct opposition to it. We 
 shall also find some analogy to this as in government 
 arrangements, in what is called office routine. 
 
 There are certain old affairs long forgotten by the 
 head of the department, the papers connected with which 
 are in the repositories of the subaltern, and which he, 
 on a simple order being received, terminates mechanically 
 without the aid of his director. This is the story of the 
 old lady and the prayer she learned in childhood to re^ 
 peat by rote. You see how Jittle there is to boast of, 
 if, when you learn a lesson, you bury it in the subaltern's 
 repository, never letting it reach the master's eye. 
 
 This is not all. Nobody is more obstinate than an 
 office-clerk. What he has been long in the habit of do- 
 ing, he will do, and not even king or emperor would suc- 
 ceed in making him depart from his routine without 
 
THE CEREBELLUM. 273 
 
 immense difficulty. The orders may be given, yet the 
 clerk still mechanically pursues his accustomed course. 
 The clerk of the cerebellum is every whit as obstinate 
 as his compeers. You wish to move one finger only, or 
 to make one particular finger move in concert with 
 another ; this is not his general habit. He lets you issue 
 your commands, but he forwards his dispatches in the 
 direction familiar to him. And thus it is, my little friend, 
 that he sets you at defiance without your perceiving it, 
 and even sometimes when you do perceive it. 
 
 An industrious and determined master will neverthe- 
 less overcome these routine difficulties, but only by re- 
 peated efforts on his part. Even you must acknowledge 
 how fast your once undisciplined fingers are getting un- 
 der your control ; they now find their way on to the 
 right notes on the piano, without noticing who their 
 companions may be. You are not obliged to be so con- 
 stantly on the alert. Routine exists here, but it is a 
 good form of routine instead of a bad one. In this lies 
 the grand secret of good government. 
 
 It is nevertheless necessary, however determined we 
 may be, that the offices be in good condition, if we^wish to 
 be obeyed ; for otherwise, with the best will in the world 
 to go forward, we might walk backward, or even turn 
 round and round, which would be still more disagreeable. 
 
 You, no doubt, consider yourself exempt from all these 
 disagreeable mishaps, satisfied as you are that no inves- 
 tigator of science will ever* take it into his head to. make 
 incisions in your cerebellum, that he may ascertain the 
 effect they would produce. Who can say, but that among 
 some of the people to whom you relate what I have just 
 been saying, you may not encounter some, who, for the 
 sake of the secrets they will divulge, will look upon these 
 experiments as quite justifiable? If so, undeceive your- 
 12* 
 
274 THE CEREBELLUM. 
 
 self, my dear child, and let us caution lovers of science 
 against too hastily coming to the conclusion that the 
 end justifies the means. Nature deals pretty severely 
 with us, and we already know all we care to know about 
 these operations without the additional pangs inflicted 
 by the vivisectors.* 
 
 Now and then we have it in our power to report very 
 extraordinary instances of irregular movement resulting 
 from some injury to the cerebellum. Among other ex- 
 amples mentioned in my books, I find that of a poor lady 
 who was more seriously affected than any of the animals 
 experimented on by the scalpel. Her limbs, owing to 
 the equilibrium between the extensors and flexors being 
 disturbed, bent without any possible resistance on her 
 part, so that she used to fall down in a heap, and in 
 this position she might be seen turning round and round 
 utterly powerless to stop herself. Flattening or shrink- 
 ing of the cerebellum was discovered after death. 
 
 Now, I have told you quite enough about this imper- 
 tinent organ, which we may well imagine is placed where 
 it is to stem the pride of little people who think them- 
 selves masters over their own bodies. Let me give you 
 a word of caution, not to be astonished at the striking 
 similarities between our interior government and those of 
 human societies, resemblances which have just occurred 
 to me while endeavoring to make you understand the 
 part which the cerebellum performs in our economy. A 
 society is like a man on a large scale, it tends by natural 
 inclination to organize itself on the same plan as the 
 human organization. I must have told you this already, 
 but I will make it plainer than ever to you in the next 
 chapter. 
 
 * Vivisector is the name which those who experiment on living 
 animals give themselves. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 THE NERVOUS CENTEE. 
 
 WE are now come to the delicate part of our explana- 
 tion of movement. .Whether cerebellum or cerebrum, it 
 is assuredly from the entire cerebral mass that the elec- 
 tric currents determining muscular contractions radiate ; 
 but where are they produced ? 
 
 This is a question well worthy of investigation, for 
 here the will has no control. Chemical agency is as 
 requisite to create an electric current in the human pile 
 as in any other, and it would be impossible to produce 
 one by a simple act of the will. 
 
 Encephalon is the common name assigned to the en- 
 tire nervous mass lodged within the skull. Beyond 
 a doubt, it is in this mass, in which it is natural to sup- 
 pose the largest amount of electricity is produced, that 
 the greatest quantity of blood is found circulating, and 
 the brain in particular is specially adapted by nature 
 for this arrangement. All this I told you when speak- 
 ing of the pia mater. Besides, the soft and delicate na- 
 ture of its substance must give free scope to the move- 
 ment of molecules, which to all appearance takes place 
 more rapidly here than elsewhere. 
 
 It would seem natural, at first sight, to expect that 
 the will would here meet with its required agent ready 
 made to its hand. Now, absurd and presumptuous as 
 some persons may think me, I venture to assert that this 
 is by no means the case. 
 
 The cerebral electricity never travels to any great dis- 
 
 (275) 
 
276 THE NEEVOUS CENTRE. 
 
 tance for the purpose of compelling the muscles to con- 
 tract ; it may rather be likened to some stately dame 
 who has much higher functions to perform, and who ex- 
 ecutes them without moving from the spot. I feel it 
 busily at work in my head at this very moment, while 
 taxing my ingenuity to give you a clear idea of what I 
 do not too fully understand myself. Of this working I 
 am convinced, because I am alive to the fatigue now 
 present in my head, and also because of the superabun- 
 dant flow of blood to that point, similar to what takes 
 place in the muscles when they are in exercise ; so great 
 is it, that in spite of a lighted stove at my side I am suf- 
 fering from cold feet. 
 
 To work one's brain, is an expression which presents 
 itself to the mind of the most unenlightened, so vivid and 
 universal is the physical sensation resulting from the in- 
 comprehensible act of thought. If I have not occasion- 
 ally been afraid to make your brain work, iny dear little 
 friend, it is simply because intellectual education is 
 most important at your age, and also because exercise 
 strengthens all the organs equally, the brains which re- 
 flect stop a bit, where does reflection take place? as 
 well as the arm that is required to saw the wood. If the 
 amount of electricity expended by muscular movement 
 were produced in the encephalon, then fatigue would be 
 experienced in that point, just in the same degree as the 
 expenditure of electricity, resulting from intellectual 
 labor, is felt there. Now, when you have been walking 
 all day, and the entire body succumbs, one single part 
 of it remains insensible to fatigue ; it is the head, or 
 rather what is within it, the encephalon, for the muscles 
 which retain it in its place are subject to the laws of 
 other muscles ; and in this instance, therefore, they par- 
 ticipate in the general fatigue. 
 
THE NERVOUS CENTRE. 277 
 
 We must sefirch elsewhere, then. Suppose we return 
 to our comparison of a government. 
 
 Have*you ever heard any one speak of what are termed 
 Crown lands ? in other words, property, the entire pro- 
 ceeds of which are appropriated to the personal neces- 
 sities of the sovereign. I should be disposed to look 
 upon the encephalon as being our Crown lands. The 
 personal revenue of him who governs is always, as you 
 know, far greater than that of other people, hence the 
 frequent disputes as to who shall govern. 
 
 Besides all this store of wealth, a tax is levied through- 
 out the country which goes to government, to be returned, 
 under its direction, to those parts of the country which 
 require common aid. Do not let us forget that a con- 
 stant warfare is going on on this subject of movement 
 where we are ; it is a state of war we are speaking of in 
 which the members of a society ought to aid each other 
 in fighting the common enemy. Those, of course, who 
 are immediately engaged in the struggle will be called 
 upon to suffer the greatest personal loss . Government 
 receives with one hand what it gives away with the 
 other, and by this method cannot be ruined. 
 
 Such is the idea I form of these bountiful supplies of 
 electricity distributed by the encephalon among the 
 muscles which are called to the combat, I will not un- 
 dertake to explain them to you as I did the currents of 
 the voltaic pile. We are in the presence of too compli- 
 cated an apparatus, the working of which is concealed 
 from our investigation, and the electricity developed 
 there has a character peculiar to itself, differing as widely 
 from its namesakes in the inanimate world as the action 
 of the magnet does from that of the electrical machine. 
 But the results are there. It seems to me quite impos- 
 sible that things should take place otherwise. 
 
278 THE NERVOUS CENTRE. 
 
 Whatever proceeding Nature employs fcere, there must 
 of necessity be a continual circulation of electricity carried 
 on between the provinces and the capital, and vice versa. 
 During sleep, when the body is completely at rest, and 
 when there can no longer be any question of muscular 
 contraction, the electric tax paid to the nervous centre 
 has its natural destination ; it returns in a quiet and 
 uniform current, determining, everywhere on its passage, 
 the chemical actions which have produced it, as does the 
 current of the pile, and in this manner life maintains it- 
 self in our bodies until the substances capable of pro- 
 ducing electricity fail, or the circulation in the apparatus 
 becomes interrupted whether by the occurrence of an 
 accident or through exhaustion. 
 
 This interior service necessarily continues throughout 
 life, inasmuch as it is life itself, and we may compare it 
 to what we call public service. Postal communication 
 for example, which is always going on, and, because essen- 
 tial to social life, must be maintained alike in time of 
 peace or of war. In time of peace the taxes are light, 
 there is not so much"to provide for then, and this is, as I 
 have told you. the time to economise. With the renewal 
 of hostilities or of movement comes the war- tax, demand- 
 ing those extraordinary contributions which wear the 
 body out in a verj brief space of time, and forcibly compel 
 it to take refuge in the economy of sleep. When war is 
 going on in any country, those provinces that are its 
 theatre are naturally more speedily exhausted than any 
 others ; and so it is with our muscles, they can only en- 
 dure local expenditure of contraction for a certain length 
 of time. But the general expenditure is not the less felt 
 everywhere ; and if you compel any single member to 
 work too energetically, lassitude will, after a time, per- 
 vade the whole body, because the other muscles have 
 
THE NERVOUS CENTRE. 279 
 
 been overtaxed on its account. If you pay attention to 
 them, the involuntary contractions which then agitate 
 them are quite sufficient to warn you that danger is im- 
 pending. Thus it was that Russia finished by exhaust- 
 ing herself, in directing all her forces to the Crimea 
 when Sebastopol was taken. 
 
 From all this we may conclude, that movement must 
 be suppressed in any member when its communication 
 with the nervous centre ceases, or when the centre be- 
 comes inactive. Every observation which has been made 
 is in accordance with this conclusion. 
 
 Let us proceed to establish the first point. 
 
 The spinal marrow is the grand means of communica- 
 tion between the capital and the provinces ; it has given 
 vivisectors, they say, great opportunities to demonstrate 
 scientifically, as they call it, a fact which the military 
 hospitals, without speaking of others, teach us only too 
 well. They sliced off small pieces from the spinal mar- 
 rows of mammiferous* animals, commencing with the 
 lower part, and always found that the movement was 
 proportionably weaker in those muscles supplied by 
 nerves issuing from below the section so made, and which 
 had consequently been cut off from all communication 
 with the centre of impulsion. The experiment was easily 
 made. It never fails when a head falls beneath the axe 
 of the executioner. The entire body becomes inert by 
 one blow, because the executioner has commenced at the 
 upper part of the spinal marrow. 
 
 But it is not requisite to slice the marrow above any 
 member in order to destroy movement there, for the 
 same result may be obtained by cutting the nerves which 
 preside over the contractions of the muscles in the vicin- 
 ity of the marrow. 
 
 * You will see farther on why I select mammiferous animals only. 
 
280 THE NERVOUS CENTRE. 
 
 This requires a few words by way of explanation. 
 
 You probably recollect the two little holes pierced at 
 the interlacing of each vertebra ; the one to the front, 
 the other to the back of the column, and when the nerves, 
 after separating into two perfectly distinct cords, effect 
 an entrance into the vertebral canal. I called your at- 
 tention at the time to 'this division of the nervous fibres 
 on their approach to the marrow. The moment is now 
 come, as I told you it would, for me to teach you what 
 there is beneath it. 
 
 When speaking of the circulation of the blood, we 
 noticed that it travels through a double system of canals ; 
 the veins bringing it from the extremities to the heart, 
 the arteries carrying it from the heart to the extremities. 
 The encephalon is a species of electric heart, if I may so 
 express it; it is the point of arrival and departure to a 
 double system of fibres ; the one set conveying informa- 
 tion, and probably the tribute of the life of the body to 
 it; the other taking' back its orders, and the amount of 
 strength necessary to execute them. To carry out our 
 comparison, they are to our government what the civil 
 and military agents are to others. 
 
 These two classep of agents, after mixing together 
 during their passage through the nerves, suddenly di- 
 verge when they reach the high road of the capital. 
 Just imagine a regiment of soldiers walking pell-mell 
 amongst a crowd of civilians. As they approach the 
 town, the drum -beats, and in the twinkling of an eye, 
 the soldiers are in line, each man at his place ; the troops 
 on one side of the road, the crowd on the other. This 
 is exactly the way in which our ne*rvous fibres act. The 
 military cord, or that of movement, penetrates the ver- 
 tebral canal by the front entrance; the civil cord, or 
 that at the head of the inquiry department, enters by the 
 
THE NERVOUS CENTRE. 281 
 
 back door, after which they continue their separate paths 
 toward the encephalon, gathering up, on either side, as 
 they journey along, the bands of comrades ejected from 
 each entrance before which they pass ; and this is the 
 way the two large cords are formed at either side of the 
 spinal marrow, as I pointed out to you before, to the 
 right and left of the median line. Each receives one 
 kind of nervous branch only, the anterior cord, or that 
 to the front, the fibres of movement ; the posterior cord, or 
 that to the back, the fibres of sensibility ; consequently 
 they share the general office of transmitting despatches 
 throughout the body. Do you recollect the little dog 
 biting your leg, and the kick you gave it for doing so ? 
 Well ! pass your hand over your vertebral column ; it 
 was by means of the band of marrow next your hand 
 that the sensation of the bite reached you, and it was 
 through the internal or anterior band that the order was 
 transmitted to your foot. 
 
 I have tried in vain, my dear child, and am sorely in- 
 dignant, that I cannot avoid speaking to y^ou of certain 
 revelations made by the scalpel, which, while enriching 
 science, have dishonored it, as is ever the case with ill- 
 gotten wealth. They abound here with a superfluity 
 that is truly revolting, and which would, I am convinced, 
 have been considerably lessened if those to whom we 
 owe them knew that on their return home every even- 
 ing- a little girl would be waiting to embrace them, and 
 oblige them to give an account of how they had passed 
 the day. As I have ventured to speak to you upon these, 
 naturally, very interesting subjects, it is only fair that a 
 few examples should now follow. 
 
 A Scotchman, Sir Charles Bell, the man who, of all 
 others, has perhaps shed the greatest Jight on the func- 
 tions of the nervous system, and who, according to the 
 
282 THE NERVOUS CENTRE. 
 
 opinion of a competent authority, M. Longet,* has in 
 this department made the greatest discovery of modern 
 times, recoiled from inflicting torture on the living ani- 
 mal for the purpose of wrenching from nature the hid- 
 den mysteries of life. The scientific glory which this 
 man of rare genius and accurate observation acquired is 
 untarnished by ferocity ; and I must further say, to the 
 honor of England, that whenever her physiologists de- 
 sire to pursue their cruel investigations, implied in vivi- 
 section, they go to France for the purpose, not daring 
 to attempt them in their own country. . Charles Bell 
 operated upon rabbits immediately after they were killed, 
 and profited as much as possible by the small remnant 
 of vitality existing in their still palpitating organs. We 
 have scarcely any right to reproach him for so doing, as 
 we do not scruple to kill these little animals for our own 
 eating. Unhappily, though his demonstrations are very 
 practical, they would involve explanations that would 
 lead us too far into the subject. His successors, who 
 were less scrupulous, have made experiments which re- 
 quire no explanation ; and as it will sufficiently answer 
 our purpose, I will relate one of them only, which was 
 performed by a German named Muller, in the year 1831, 
 twenty years after Charles Bell's discovery had been 
 made, public. m 
 
 He took a frog, an inferior animal that possesses great 
 tenacity of life ; a mammifer would have died too soon 
 under the operation to have allowed him sufficient time 
 to observe it at his ease ; and near to the spinal marrow 
 he cut a part only of the three nerves communicating 
 
 with each of the hind feet ; he cut the anterior branches 
 
 jj^ ' 
 
 at the left side, and the posterior at the right ; this ren- 
 dered the left foot incapable of motion, whilst it retained 
 
 * Longet, Anatomie Comparee da Systeme Nerveux. 
 
THE NERVOUS CENTRE. 283 
 
 the sense of feeling. Means were not wanting to ascer- 
 tain the certainty of this fact ; the right foot became 
 perfectly insensible and incapable of motion. Assuredly 
 this experiment was sufficiently satisfactory, and did not 
 require a second trial. 
 
 Sensibility and movement disappear at once in a mem- 
 ber when we cut the nerves below the point where the 
 two classes of fibres separate, the whole nervous supply 
 being thus simultaneously arrested. The government 
 is perfectly ignorant of whatever may occur afterwards, 
 and can no longer enforce obedience. It has been isola- 
 ted at one blow from its clerks and soldiers. 
 
 Lastly, we can, if we please, separate without touching 
 the nerves, either the first or the second class of fibres, 
 simply by making an incision in the spinal marrow above 
 the limb, either in the posterior or the anterior portion 
 of the cord. Here, however, the separation of the fibres 
 is less certain, and, by dint of repeated experiments, it 
 has finally been ascertained that contradictory results 
 sometimes follow. It would appear that soldiers and 
 civilians fraternise on the confines of the two bands, and 
 here and there, on the journey, each side contains some 
 deserters, and this capricious exchange somewhat baffles 
 research. But what can be the use of so determinedly 
 pursuing a few vagabond fibres existing within these 
 poor creatures, the presence of which on forbidden 
 ground cannot possibly alter the grand law discovered 
 at so little cost? What can justify needless cruelty, 
 when we have not exactly a right to absolution whilst 
 practising, for a desirable object ? 
 
 But, enough on this subject. At the commencement, 
 my intention was not to speak to you on these matters, 
 but my wish to find fault has superseded my resolution. 
 It is before the tribunal of women and children that 
 
284 THE NERVOUS CENTRE. 
 
 questions of this nature must be decided. Men are apt 
 to accept all kinds of good excuses which would not 
 satisfy you. 
 
 Let us next see what happens when the action of the 
 nervous centre stops. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THE NERVOUS CENTRE (Continued.) 
 
 HAVE you not sometimes suffered from those unpleasant 
 dreams in which you distractedly flee from an indefati- 
 gable enemy, and try by a thousand ineffectual efforts to 
 drag your legs along, when all the time they refuse to 
 stir ? If you can call to mind the wretched state of feel- 
 ing into which this apathy of your members plunged 
 you, by so reluctantly attending to your urgent en- 
 treaties, you will be able to form some idea of that ter-: 
 rible malady known as paralysis. 
 
 Paraluo, in Greek, signifies I untie, and paralysis un- 
 ties those mysterious bonds within us which unite the 
 electric current to the will. 
 
 This imaginary paralysis of our dreams is accounted 
 for by the general drowsiness of the encephalon, the base 
 of which continues in a lethargic state, after the imagina-. 
 tion, awakened in the upper part of the brain first, has 
 aroused the companion at its side, namely the will. The 
 government, disarmed and incomplete, if I may so ex- 
 press it, but partially aroused from its torpor, vainly 
 struggles to exercise its authority, and hence the positive 
 sensation of refusal to obey, which is so well known to 
 us under the form of nightmare. Imagine a monarch 
 presenting himself to his people, and attempting to is- 
 sue his orders in his night costume, unattended by police 
 or soldiers ! Such is the sleeper, and such the 
 paralytic. 
 
 (235) 
 
THE NERVOUS CENTRE. 
 
 The will, when strong or over-excited, sometimes suc- 
 ceeds in enforcing obedience under any circumstances, 
 and by its strength will shake off either sleep or paraly- 
 sis. You can readily understand that the power of the 
 will is not equal in all ; it may differ in strength as do 
 kings, but there is no absolute rule for this. It is difficult 
 to picture Louis XIY. exercising any influence over the 
 people, without the red heels to his shoes and his wig ; 
 it was quite different with regard to him whom the 
 soldiers called " The Little Corporal," and who was not 
 less imposing, but rather the reverse, in his gray riding- 
 coat than under his imperial mantle adorned with golden 
 bees. 
 
 It is related of Semiramis, the great queen of Baby- 
 lon, that as she was one day engaged at her toilette, 
 somebody suddenly told her that the city had revolted. 
 She rushed furiously from the hands of her female at- 
 tendants, and half-dressed and with her hair in disorder, 
 she restored tranquillity with no other accompaniment 
 of royalty save the energy of her speech and the flash of 
 her eyes. 
 
 There are several instances on record in which a sud- 
 den fright, or outburst of excitement, has caused the will, 
 of its own accord, to resume the reins it had before al- 
 lowed to escape it ; and paralytics have been known to 
 recover the use of their limbs in a moment. This hap- 
 pened to the lame man whose history is so well known, 
 who, lying upon his couch when a fire broke out near 
 him, was so terrified by the sight of the flames, that with 
 one spring he jumped up and ran off. 
 
 With regard to sleep, I once had a friend who had 
 power over his dreams when they became too painful, 
 and who by an impulse of his will could emerge from 
 the paralysis of nightmare. Singularly enough, this 
 
THE NERVOUS CENTRE. 287 
 
 faculty, which is not without its value, was a recent ac- 
 quisition, observed when his character became formed. 
 He had no influence over his sleeping phantasmagoria 
 until he had learned to control the actions of his life. 
 
 You also, my dear little girl, must have assisted at 
 this struggle between the will and paralysis more than 
 once, and I should be very much astonished if you are 
 ignorant of what it is. 
 
 In the morning, when it is time to rise, has an idle fit 
 never taken possession of you ? Try it to-morrow, just 
 to see, and take special notice of what occurs. All is 
 awake in the brain, where the faculties are at work as 
 if in full vigor, more even than at other times, because 
 then all the powers of life are employed in their behalf. 
 The will is also at its post, but it is undecided and list- 
 less ; it feels as if it were* hovering beneath the top of 
 the skull, and it is not the desire to get up which is 
 wanting. Unfortunately, there is a weight at the nape 
 of the neck which fixes the head to the pillow ; this is 
 the base of the encephalon, the cerebellum, and its ap- 
 pendages, the torpor of which is not yet shaken off; the 
 clerk has not yet opened the office. At last a great 
 shock from the will forces the door open, the business 
 of despatching orders immediately commences, the body 
 which was lying paralysed now holds up its head, and 
 life begins anew. All depends upon this opportune 
 shock. For this reason it is a very easy matter to rise 
 when there is some pleasure in prospect toward which 
 the will bends. An excursion into the country, for in- 
 stance, or the pleasure of being useful to your mother, 
 ought to be sufficient stimulus were you always reasonable 
 and dutiful ; but as little people are not invariably so, I 
 am going to give you a receipt, by following which, you 
 will more readily overcome this sleepy clerk. Raise 
 
288 THE NERVOUS CENTRE. 
 
 your head first, a very little will suffice, the effort re- 
 quired is not great ; by this means the office is shaken, 
 and the clerk at once compelled to bestir himself. 
 
 I thought, my dear little pet, that by placing before 
 your eyes an example so familiar to you as that of sleep, 
 I should render the phenomena which accompany the in- 
 terruption of the action of the nervous centre to the 
 point of sight of the movement more readily intelligible 
 to your comprehension. And now we must enter a lit- 
 tle more in details. 
 
 The suppression of nervous energy seen in paralytics 
 may be considered as a partial and permanent sleep, 
 most frequently following on cerebral congestions. This 
 is the term* applied to those sudden rushes of blood 
 which inundate the encephalon, for which we cannot 
 always give a reason, and which derange its' action when 
 they do not immediately arrest its work and produce 
 death, or at least disorganisation of its tissues. 
 
 A strange phenomenon is sometimes observable in 
 these circumstances. 
 
 I hope you recollect the median line dividing our body 
 into two similar halves, which are joined together at 
 the middle, like the two halves of a walnut shell. Some- 
 times after the disturbing flow of blood has subsided, it 
 happens that only one of these halves is rendered torpid 
 by the shock it has received from the blood, and the 
 muscles on the one side are still alive, while those on 
 the other side are dead, so to speak. Perhaps you may 
 some day meet an unfortunate individual painfully drag- 
 ging along the dead half of his body by the help of the 
 living one. If you see that his face is all drawn to one 
 
 * They are also called apoplectic strokes, and apoplexy, two words 
 with the same meaning, the second signifying in Greek a blow or 
 stroke. 
 
THE NERVOUS CEl^RE. 289 
 
 side, you have the reason fully explained here. The 
 muscles of the face are marshalled in pairs throughout 
 the length of the median line, toward which they all 
 centre, as so many combatants equal in power, producing 
 equilibrium. The equilibrium is suddenly disturbed, if 
 one of any of the pairs of the wrestlers occupying either 
 the right or left side is struck by death ; its surviving 
 antagonist drags the powerless muscle over to its side. 
 
 It is by a sim'ilar disturbance of the equilibrium that 
 the median line is so horribly displaced in children who 
 make grimaces, who amuse themselves by distorting their 
 features, lest they should grow up too good-looking ! but 
 the will is the culprit in these cases. It renders the 
 contest an unequal one by sending a reinforcement of 
 electricity to one of the two bands ; and they who make 
 faces would be rightly served, if, by dint of being con- 
 tracted for no cause, the muscles of the privileged band* 
 were to acquire the habit of it. You know that the 
 muscles very readily acquire habits which they afterward 
 retain, in spite of our efforts to cure them. Let me ad- 
 vise you to tell this story to your little cousin, who, if he 
 continue, for sheer amusement, to disturb this precious 
 equilibrium, so wisely established by Nature on the two 
 sides of the median line, may one day find himself with 
 the face of a paralytic. 
 
 Having settled this point, we will now return to those 
 misfortunes which occur in spite of ourselves. 
 
 You may probably already have forgotten it, but there 
 is a detail I pointed out to you when speaking of the 
 species of rounded pyramid which the marrow forms 
 after its entrance into the brain. Having reached the 
 summit of the pyramid, if you remember, the nervous 
 
 * It is almost always to the side which they first distort that the 
 faces of children turn who indulge in grimaces. 
 
 13 
 
290 THE^NERVOUS CENTRE. 
 
 fibres that are collected there from all parts of the body 
 decussate or cross each other at this point. Those 
 coming from the right side of the body pass over to the 
 left, and those from the left pass to the right. You will 
 see by and by, I then said to you, what is the consequence 
 of this interlacement or decussation of the fibres, which 
 the indiscreet knife of the anatomist has revealed in the 
 thickness of the pyramid where it takes place slyly. It 
 is now the moment to explain this consequence. When 
 paralysis manifests itself to the right of the median line, 
 its seat is sure to be in the left half of the encephalon. 
 If it betray itself in the left side, then the right half of 
 the encephalon is the disordered part. 
 
 This is not all. I told you in my last letter that we 
 hare two systems of nerves one for movement, the 
 other for feeling and that we can, at will, render a 
 member powerless or insensible according as we cut the 
 motor or the sensitive cords. Well, sometimes it is one, 
 and sometimes the other of these two systems, which 
 ceases to act after an apoplectic stroke followed by 
 paralysis, according as the springs have been damaged 
 in the cerebellum or the cerebrum ; at least we have the 
 right to suppose it. 
 
 The offices whence sensibility issues are, in fact to be 
 found in the cerebrum ; those connected with movement 
 are found in the cerebellum ; this we shall see farther 
 on ; but nothing is so obscure as the after effects of 
 these violent disturbances which disorder the workings 
 of so delicate an apparatus ; and doctors even are often 
 sadly perplexed to indicate the exact point where the 
 damage has been inflicted. The changes which it leaves 
 behind it are rarely visible, and its results are most 
 capricious. Not only does it choose between the two 
 halves of the body and the two systems of nerves, but 
 
THE NERVOUS CENTRE. 291 
 
 even there it takes and leaves, sometimes destroying the 
 movement or the feeling only in certain places, while at 
 other times it destroys them both only partially. The 
 members in these cases retain a portion of their power, 
 which may still be made use of by the will, but at what 
 a sacrifice ! This is neither more nor less than the para- 
 lysis of nightmare producing in reality during the wak- 
 ing state the imaginery effect of which we dream in the 
 hours of sleep. The action of the nervous centre is not 
 suppressed in this instance, it is only fettered and lower- 
 ed. Who can tell us what kind of obstacles it encoun- 
 ters ? Even in apparently extreme cases, when a limb, 
 both powerless and insensible, seems entirely withdrawn 
 from the action of the nervous centre, we cannot doubt 
 but that some sense of feeling still remains. It is easy 
 to note the moment when the decisive arrest of the elec- 
 tric circulation takes place, for then gangrene sets in. 
 
 The word I have just uttered, is a terrible one, my 
 dear child. I spoke to you a short time ago of the dead 
 half arid the living half. I then went a little too far. 
 A muscle is not dead simply because it has lost its con- 
 tractile power ; and the proof that it is still living is 
 that the fundamental sign of life, the continued renewal 
 of its substance, still goes on in it. The chemical labo- 
 ratory remains in activity ; therefore the electric cur- 
 rents traverse it as hitherto, though less energetically, 
 it is true. You can satisfy yourself on this point by 
 taking hold of the hand of any person suffering from 
 severe paralysis. A death-like coldness is already per- 
 ceptible, although the arterial blood penetrates it as 
 well as all other parts of the body, but the elements of 
 combustion that it carries with it, and with which it 
 meets there, cease to receive sufficient encouragement 
 from the electric agent to maintain in it the ninety-eight 
 
292 THE NERVOUS CENTRE. 
 
 degrees Fahrenheit, of which we have already spoken. 
 This hidden source of life the chemical life is lowered 
 a notch. You might imagine you had come in contact 
 with a reptile : I speak of a living one. Divide the last 
 links that attach the cold hand to the centre from 
 whence it receives its remnant of life, separate it from 
 the arm, and decomposition will speedily ensue. When 
 absolute paralysis shall silently sever these last links, 
 there will be no occasion to cut off the limb ; decompo- 
 sition will take place in the hand, whether it be an ap- 
 pendage of the arm or not, and this is what is known by 
 the expression gangrene, which is death, positive death, 
 seizing upon part of a being still in life. 
 
 We will not pursue this subject any further ; besides, 
 we have finished the history of this nervous centre which 
 holds the members so completely under its authority. 
 Can you guess what thought came into my mind while I 
 was showing you a hand reduced to the inferior life of a 
 reptile ? It was this, that the members of a reptile are 
 better distributed than ours ; at least, they are more 
 independent ; there life is not left so completely under 
 the absolute action of a centre, that they cannot dispense 
 with it. If you were to cut into the spinal marrow of a 
 lizard in such a way as to intercept all communication 
 between the head and the hind feet, the latter would 
 still be able to move, and would be convulsed if you were 
 to pinch them.. In the reptile, life goes on in the prov- 
 inces, though the latter be separated from the capital. 
 If we descend lower still in the animal scale, we shall 
 come into collision with organism where the capital is so 
 unnecessary that there is none. This is one of 'the most 
 distinctive laws of animal organization, that in propor- 
 tion to its perfection, life tends to centralize itself more 
 and more. You fully understand that I am just now 
 
THE NERVOUS CENTRE. 293 
 
 speaking of the life of relation ; and the human body, the 
 masterpiece of the animal kingdom, is the one of all others 
 in which, without contradiction, this centralisation is the 
 most complete. Not long ago I said : " Society is like 
 a man on a large scale ; it tends, by a natural inclination, 
 to organize itself on the same plan as the human organi- 
 sation." I greatly regret that these questions do not 
 belong to. our present subject, because in discussing 
 them I should have had an opportunity of throwing 
 light on a great quarrel, of which, one day or other, you 
 will hear something. I shall only say a word about it 
 here. 
 
 We belong to a country,* my dear child, which, as re- 
 gards others, is to a certain extent what the human body 
 is among other organisms, and which, -into the bargain, 
 suffers from these circumstances. The capital being 
 gorged or surcharged paralyzes the provinces, and this 
 is a disease we should endeavor to remedy ; but this does 
 not prove that it is necessary to take away from it its 
 title to social superiority by decentralizing its life. 
 When the head is too full of blood, we put mustard-poul- 
 tices to the feet. Why not act in a similar manner on 
 the provinces ? Let them be exhorted to react upon 
 the capital in the same way as moxas are applied to a 
 benumbed limb to restore the electric circulation there, 
 by making it rouse the brain. This is perfectly right ; 
 it is combating the evil by remaining within the limits of 
 the law of social life ; but to advise a return to their 
 former isolation would be as absurd as to counsel our 
 members to retrograde toward stages, over which nature 
 has passed, in order to arrive at the point we have reach- 
 ed. People may say what they please, the lizard is a 
 Girondin. 
 
 * The author, it will not be forgotten, is a Frenchman. 
 
294 THE NEIIVOUS CENTRE. 
 
 Ask some one else to explain to you what a 
 Girondin is ;* I avoid doing so for fear of being 
 scolded. But how, I ask you, is it possible to dis- 
 pense with politics when speaking to a queen of her 
 government ? 
 
 * Girondins was the name given to a political party which 
 formed a section of the Second National Assembly of France 
 called the " Legislative," in contradistinction to the first or " Con- 
 stitutional," which framed the constitution of 1791. The members 
 of this party were mostly from the departments of the West and 
 South. They were republicans, and hostile to monarchy, and 
 formed their notions of liberty on classical models. 
 
CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 THE INVOLUNTARY -MOVEMENTS. 
 
 WHAT would you say, my dear child, if, whilst you are 
 moving about in your mother's room, answering her 
 gentle voice and tender look, as naturally as you 
 breathe, one of those beggar-women, whom you some- 
 times see in the streets, were all on a sudden to place 
 herself between your parent and yourself, and seizing 
 you roughly by the hand compel you to obey her vulgar 
 commands ? 
 
 I fancy I see you trembling from head to foot, vainly 
 calling upon your mother to come to your assistance, as, 
 dismayed by the termagant, you struggle in hopeless 
 despair under the tyrannical restraint that tortures you. 
 Well, then, a similar scene takes place within our bodies 
 when the rude, coarse electricity of the pile, making an 
 inroad in our members, violently repulses the friendly 
 currents which are sent there by the will. 
 
 There are piles constructed expressly for this purpose. 
 You take hold of a copper handle in each of your 
 hands, and the current that rushes from one pole to the 
 other passes through your body, it having suddenly been 
 converted into a passage of communication between the 
 two poles. The result of all this very clearly discloses 
 the mysterious cause of muscular contraction. No mat- 
 ter how much you endeavor to prevent them, the hands 
 instantly clench the copper handles as if some irresistible 
 power issued from them ; and they are certainly endowed 
 
 (295) 
 
296 THE INVOLUNTAEY MOVEMENTS. 
 
 with a power, and one that we are all well acquainted 
 with, inasmuch as it is that of electricity. 
 
 In this instance, the muscles are placed between two 
 sources of electricity of different kinds, between two 
 very different masters, each of which governs according 
 to his own fashion. If we may be allowed to consider 
 the brain as a sort of animal pile, whence proceed along 
 the nerves currents of organic origin, civilized currents, 
 if I may so express it, disciplined, guided in their course 
 be it by intelligence or instinct the pile, in its turn 
 may be compared in its action on the muscles to, excuse 
 the expression, a kind of mineral brain projecting, in a 
 straight line, currents of inorganic origin, which on 
 their journey through our muscles conduct themselves 
 like a band of unrestrained savages dashing straight 
 ahead across a country. In the one case, as in the other, 
 the muscular contraction is. always caused by electricity, 
 but what a difference in the procedure of the pile and 
 that of the brain 1 The former invades the muscles all 
 at once, causing them to contract simultaneously, in a 
 riotous, painful manner as it passes along, and the an- 
 tagonists of each pair of muscles pull, at the same time, 
 in despair upon the bone, which does not know whom to 
 obey. Instead of the regular transmission to and fro, 
 effected with so much calmness and gentleness, when 
 the brain issues her successive commands, the pile, like 
 a stranger in the castle, by her blind and contradictory 
 orders, produces nothing but universal confusion. 
 
 What have you to say of all this, my little friend ? 
 Did you expect, when I was giving you the history of 
 Yolta's frog, that we should end by finding the same 
 thing repeated in ourselves. However, there is no use 
 in our denying it. Electricity exercises the same action 
 over us, whether it be produced from within or without ; 
 
THE INVOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. . 297 
 
 and I have a proof of this, which struck me very for- 
 cibly the first time I became aware of it. 
 
 You know that we possess two sorts of nerves, those 
 which carry information from the body to the brain, and 
 create what is called sensation, the others which trans- 
 mit the orders of the brain to all parts of the body, and 
 preside over movement, that is to say, muscular contrac- 
 tion. Orders, then, and information, contractions and 
 sensations, proceed from two different points in the reg- 
 ular working of life ; orders pass from the centre to the 
 extremities, information proceeds from the extremities 
 to the centre. Now when the current of the pile invades 
 a nerve, it immediately produces either a contraction or 
 a sensation, according as it moves in the direction from 
 the 1 centre to the extremities, or from the extremities^ to 
 the centre. Therefore I was not wrong in telling you 
 just now, that under these circumstances the pile acts as 
 a sort of brain to the muscle. The nervous filaments 
 there do not mistake the agent ; they act as electric con- 
 ductors with it, exactly as they do with the brain, each 
 in its own peculiar way. I will venture to add, that 
 sensations and contractions are produced pell-mell, and 
 at the same moment, provided the foreign current be 
 energetic, no matter what may be its direction, It is a 
 blind brute force, not understanding the. word of com- 
 mand, but trampling it under foot the moment it has 
 the power to do so. 
 
 We have in the history of nations, the counterpart of 
 this foreign power coming and brutally assuming the 
 place of the constituted and recognized government. 
 This is called invasion, and I hope, my dear child, it 
 may please God that you shall know- it by name only. 
 But invasion changes its name when it is theTsovereign 
 of a country himself who calls in a stranger to reduce 
 13* 
 
298 THE INVOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 
 
 his subjects to- order, when he cannot succeed in doing 
 so. It then becomes intervention ; and if we still wish 
 to continue the comparison between the interior of our 
 own little household and that of large governments, we 
 shall recognize intervention there also. 
 
 You have not, I think, had time to forget what I said 
 to you regarding paralysis, that revolt of the nervous 
 system, currents of which cease to be subject to the will, 
 or only obey it in an idle manner, like wearied or dis- 
 contented subjects who treat with indifference whatever 
 orders may be given to them. The will, betrayed by its 
 ordinary servants, can then compel the muscles to con- 
 tract in spite of themselves, by submitting them to the 
 currents of the pile ; ever-willing servants, blind slaves 
 who never dispute, resembling the Swiss of the King of 
 Naples, who were so useful to him, that he could dis- 
 pense with the fidelity of the Neapolitans. It is possible 
 in this way. to re-establish the electric circulation of par- 
 alyzed limbs, and apparently to imbue them with life for 
 an instant. It is true that the life is but a foreign one 
 momentarily borrowed from the external brain of which 
 I have just spoken to you, and which, it is natural to ex- 
 pect, is condemned to disappear immediately communi- 
 cation is interrupted between the limb and the pile. But 
 notice what a mysterious thing real life is, the life that 
 has its centre in the true brain. The contact of foreign 
 life is sometimes able to arouse it. The interior currents 
 are themselves called into play, as if they were disposed 
 to do .their best on seeing the service of the muscles 
 usurped by their younger brothers from without, and the 
 impulse thus given persists long after the action of the 
 pile has ceased. It may by repeated attempts even con- 
 tinue indefinitely. This is one of the means resorted 
 to for the restoration of those afflicted with paralysis ; 
 
THE INVOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 299 
 
 and if you remember how those paralytics were cured 
 and enabled to walk by a sudden effort of the will, you 
 must, to a certain extent, be able to account for the 
 wonderful effect the pile is sometimes capable of produc- 
 ing. Shftck resppnds to shock ; it may be compared 
 to the winding *up of enfeebled springs, though how 
 it is accomplished in either case we are unable to 
 say. 
 
 It would not, however, do to trust this always. In- 
 tervention is dangerous in its nature, and the artificial 
 life which is asked from it, occasionally breaks the 
 springs instead of winding them up. We have heard of 
 more than one example of partial paralysis being ren- 
 dered complete by the intervention of the pile. We have 
 also heard of princes whose last remnant of popularity 
 has been destroyed by their appealing for the interven- 
 tion of the stranger. 
 
 The most extraordinary effect that can by any possi- 
 bility be made upon the animal machine by currents 
 from a foreign source, is one that can never be of any 
 service. It is precisely that observed by Volta on his 
 dead frogs ; it is the movement produced after death. 
 Experiments have been made on bodies of which the 
 executioner has just severed the head from the trunk. 
 Death having overtaken these individuals whilst in the 
 enjoyment of perfect health, they could be subjected to 
 the currents of the pile while still possessing the neces- 
 sary conditions to enable it, the pile, to play the part of 
 the nervous centre which had just been destroyed. What 
 spectacle can be more hideous than that of galvanized 
 corpses playing at life, as it were, half raising themselves, 
 twisting about, beating the air with their limbs, shaken 
 for the last time by false convulsions, and then falling 
 motionless the instant that the source of artificial life is 
 
300 THE INVOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 
 
 withdrawn from them. One may well call this the tri- 
 umph of intervention ; truly man has never approached 
 nearer to Nature in his endeavors to extract the secret 
 of life from her bosom ; but the triumph has been a most 
 fruitless one, and teaches us, better than anything else, 
 how utterly powerless we are to enter the lists with the 
 law which regulates all things. 
 
 I entitled this chapter " The Involuntary Movements." 
 Here are some, undoubtedly, with which the will has noth- 
 ing to do, and it would be somewhat difficult to set aside 
 their claim to the epithet involuntary. I know of others 
 the dependence of which is less authentic ; and as we 
 never know what may be in store for us, I intend to en- 
 lighten you a little on the subject. 
 
 It is more than probable that you have heard people 
 speak of hysterics, or nervous attacks. It is well known 
 that the malady is peculiar to ladies, they having almost 
 the entire monopoly of nervous disorders. Spiteful per- 
 sons sometime go so far as to say that they constitute a 
 great portion of their arsenal, but we are going to dis- 
 cuss the truth of these remarks. The fact is, that some 
 physiological reason lies concealed beneath all this, and 
 female nerves are in reality more difficult to keep in con- 
 dition than are those of men. 
 
 This requires a word of explanation. 
 
 Nerves are something more than mere conductors in 
 the human pile ; they are generators of electricity them- 
 selves, and in that capacity they perform an action pecu- 
 liar to them. We are compelled to acknowledge this to 
 be the case in animals possessing nerves and no brain, 
 which may be compared to those barbarians of ancient 
 Germany, when every man made war after his own fash- 
 ion, and only depended upon his sword. The army of 
 nerves within is subjected to the laws of a very severe 
 
THE INVOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 301 
 
 discipline, and quietly obeys the orders of a chief who 
 may be said to hold the whole of them in his grasp. But 
 no army is so well disciplined as not to be able to revolt 
 when overmarched. Admirable as the arrangements 
 are in the French army, it is not very long since it afford- 
 ed us an example of this. It is true, it occurred among 
 the Zouaves, the most nervous of its soldiers . 
 
 In moments of excitement, when vital activity is in 
 excess, and electricity accumulates in the nerves, they 
 are apt to work without orders, especially if from one 
 cause or another there is general weakness, and conse- 
 quently exhaustion of the brain. Then nervous attacks 
 burst forth, agitating the members by involuntary move- 
 ments, with so great an expenditure of power, that weak, 
 delicate women have been known, whilst in this state, to 
 struggle with vigorous men, afterward undergoing the in- 
 evitable punishment of having squandered their strength, 
 and remaining for a long time in a state of extreme pros- 
 tration. Now, it seems quite clear from all this, that the 
 larger the nervous cords are compared with the brain, 
 the easier it is for them to acquire the ascendancy over 
 their chief; and this is just the case with women, who 
 have, in general, in proportion to their size, larger 
 nerves and smaller brains than men. 
 
 Do not, my dear child, conclude from all I have said, 
 that in your future position of a grown-up lady, you are 
 necessarily destined to suffer from nervous attacks on 
 every occasion. No woman of any determination ever 
 suffered from one of these attacks when she was really 
 called upon to attend to any important business. I 
 mentioned Semiramis to you when speaking of paralysis. 
 Perhaps it would have been wiser to have reserved the 
 story until now, for this is a case of armed Rebellion; 
 more alarming, I admit, yet easier to put down than the 
 
tf 
 
 302 THE INVOLUNTAEY MOVEMENTS. 
 
 simple refusal of the nerves to do their work, in the case 
 of paralysis. These conditions may be said to represent 
 a government contending with two obstacles ; on the one 
 hand, the rebels have raised barricades, on the other, they 
 obstinately refuse to pay the taxes. 
 
 A queen who has a will of her own is always certain 
 in similar cases to keep her nerves in check, however 
 large they may be, and on this account the rebellious 
 movements of an attack of nerves are, properly speaking, 
 only involuntary in a secondary point of view. Once 
 allowed to take part in the insurrection, the nerves mock 
 at the will, which, had it chosen, in the first instance, to 
 act vigorously, would have obtained the ascendancy ; and 
 so it is that man's free agency always renders him re- 
 sponsible for his actions. 
 
 We must not, however, pursue the subject too far. It 
 was quite right that you should be taught something 
 about these little mutineers, which are not so easy to 
 control when they have once been allowed to have their 
 own way. But whilst endeavoring to caution you agains t 
 the error of letting them lead you captive, I would not 
 have you to be unnecessarily severe upon those whom you 
 may be called upon to witness suffering from these at- 
 tacks. In each one of us there is an entire system of 
 nerves independent of the action of the will that of the 
 nerves of the internal republic, which has its own nerves, 
 and when nervous affections proceed from this system, 
 it would most assuredly be very cruel to judge harshly 
 of those suffering from these attacks. I have had no 
 occasion up to the present time to speak to you of these 
 proud republicans ; they are quite distinct from the walk- 
 ing machine. Now that its history is completed, I must 
 fill up a gap I was constrained to make in the preceding 
 part. As we accompanied our "Mouthful of Bread" in 
 
THE INVOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS. 303 
 
 its various travels, we followed the example of tourists, 
 travelling through Switzerland from canton to canton, 
 delighting in the glaciers and the lakes without ever 
 troubling themselves respecting the government of the 
 country. It is true that the government does not occupy 
 a very large space ; neither does the government of the 
 stomach, the heart, and the lungs occupy much space in 
 us. For this reason I felt sure I might be allowed to 
 skip over them without any considerable inconvenience. 
 You must not, however, imagine the study is one to be 
 despised ; and, believe me, I should not have felt justified 
 in passing .over it silently if I had been able to enlarge 
 upon it with you. Yet how was it possible to do so 
 with a little child who had never learned anything about 
 electricity? 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE GREAT SYMPATHETIC NERVE. 
 
 THESE minor governments in the world of nutrition which 
 we have passed by unnoticed, have frequently been as 
 little regarded by others, who either never observed them 
 at all, or considered them as quite unworthy of remark. 
 I must in justice say they make very little show. 
 
 Buried in the hidden recesses of the body, between the 
 vertebral column and the great organs of nutrition, there 
 is a double row of small knots of nervous substance, 
 bound together by a series of nerves running from one 
 to the other in succession, from the neck to the base of 
 the colujan. The whole appears like a sort of continuous 
 cord with knots at certain distances, and for a long time 
 this cord was looked upon as a dependency of the cere- 
 bral system with which it communicates by means of a 
 certain number of nervous filaments. It had its assigned 
 place among the great army of nerves, where it was 
 known as the great sympathetic nerve ; so well-chosen a 
 name, that I prefer to retain it ; and by and b}^ when we 
 come to speak of the passions, you will see my reason for 
 doing so. 
 
 The illustrious Bichat assigned its proper place to this 
 great sympathetic nerve, and in this fact lies his best 
 title to scientific glory. He was the first resolutely to 
 proclaim in public what others had hitherto only ven- 
 tured timidly to whisper, namely, that this pretended 
 nerve, so far from being a subject, is the rival of the 
 (304) 
 
THE GREAT SYMPATHETIC NERVE. 305 
 
 brain its colleague if you understand the term better. 
 It is now acknowledged to be a mass of nervous centres, 
 each of which possesses an independent lite ; a collection 
 of little brains, if I may make use of the rather rash ex- 
 pression ventured on by some of the precursors of Bichat 
 It is, as the Swiss would say, the great council of this 
 federative republic, which counterpoises the cerebral 
 royalty within us. The nervous prolongations which 
 unite these ganglia, this is the name given to these little 
 brains, are only messengers employed to keep up a con- 
 stant communication among them, as also the filaments 
 proceeding from the vital centre by means of which a 
 communication, is established between the two great 
 systems. As a messenger is only called upon to execute 
 his commissions, he takes no part in the administration 
 of affairs, therefore their respective independence re- 
 mains intact. 
 
 Would you not feel somewhat curious to examine the 
 presidents of our little republics rather more closely, my 
 dear little girl ? This is to be our last anatomical les- 
 son, and you need not fear my making it too long. 
 Do you not wish first of all to ask me of what shape are 
 these ganglia? We are here in the land of liberty, 
 where we shall not meet with that uniform symmetry, 
 peculiar to regions under a monarchical government 
 Round, oblong, triangular, sometimes very voluminous, 
 at others shrunk to almost nothing, they vary in shape 
 and appearance, in the most capricious manner, from one 
 end of the cord to the other ; in one individual they are 
 different from what we find in another, and those of the 
 same pair most generally differ between themselves. 
 Even their place and their number are subject to a thou- 
 sand variations ; sometimes they are to be found in places 
 where usually there are none, at others they are vainly 
 
306 THE GREAT SYMPATHETIC NERVE. 
 
 looked for in parts where it is customary to meet with 
 them. In this instance, Nature seems fully to avail her- 
 self of the liberty allowed her. And who can say but 
 that the immense varieties of humor and temperament 
 we meet with, may, in some degree, depend upon these 
 caprices in the distribution of the nervous centres of the 
 life of nutrition ? You will be able to understand this 
 better when we come to examine into their influence 
 upon the actions of the moral life, as I propose doing at 
 some future time. 
 
 The substance of the ganglia bears no resemblance to 
 that of the spinal marrow and brain. It is a species of 
 gelatinous pulp of a reddish gray color, lodged within 
 an extraordinary fine cellular network, from whence 
 bundles of white fibres issue, the extremities of which 
 disappear in the pulp of the cells. The fibres of the 
 ganglionic nerve do not form tight cords like those of 
 other nerves ; the skein is loose, and every here and there 
 its scattered threads are intertwined with those of the 
 adjoining ganglia, to form what are called a plexus.* As 
 I have selected a skein to illustrate my meaning, I will 
 ask you to picture one to yourself that has become en- 
 tangled in the winding, and some impatient little hand 
 by dint of pulling at the threads in every direction, has 
 drawn the whole into a ball. This will give you a tol- 
 erably clear idea of these plexus, which are easily dis- 
 tinguished from the ganglia, because they are composed 
 of twisted fibres only, in which no trace of pulp is 
 visible. 
 
 Now let us take a hasty glance at the principal 
 details in the ganglionic world. It is too hidden a 
 country for its topography to prove very interesting 
 to you. 
 
 * Plexus in Latin signifies an interlacing. 
 
THE GREAT SYMPATHETIC NERVE. 307 
 
 We do not find all the ganglia on the line of the great 
 sympathetic nerve. From those contiguous to the last 
 pair of ribs, each generally has its own, bundles of fibres 
 issue, the definitive expansion of which produces an in- 
 extricable confusion of intermingled nervous branches 
 and small ganglia which sometimes separate, at others 
 mixed up together in a manner baffling all description. 
 All this assemblage of multiplied inter weavings and 
 stray ganglia form, beneath the diaphragm and the liver 
 between the stomach and the vertebral column, a vast 
 network, on which the anatomists have bestowed the poetic 
 name of solar plexus, because, they say, it is a represen- 
 tation of the sun with its rays. We shall touch on the 
 solar plexus again at some future time. The shock 
 which the stomach sustains, a sensation so familiar to 
 those who have suffered from great or sudden emotions, 
 is due to this plexus ; and the ancients who placed the 
 second seat of the soul there, its lower palace, if you like 
 to call it so, were not far wrong in so doing. That part 
 of us over which we have no control, is scarcely distinct 
 from what is called the soul ; 1 mean the superior ele- 
 ment of our nature. 
 
 The solar plexus envelops with its ramifications the 
 aorta and the vessels which it sends to the diaphragm, 
 the liver, and the digestive tube ; it seems arranged on 
 the same plan as the arterial network, and the same may 
 be said of all the nervous prolongations of the ganglia. 
 It is in threading along the arteries, following the same 
 path, that they almost always penetrate into the organs 
 over which the ganglionic system rules. This invariable 
 arrangement of the nervous apparatus peculiar to the 
 life of nutrition, in my opinion sufficiently indicates 
 wherein lies the secret of its power over its royal neigh- 
 
308 THE GREAT SYMPATHETIC NERVE. 
 
 bor ; it controls the blood which exercises immense au- 
 thority over the brain. 
 
 Next to the solar plexus, the most important is the 
 one placed close to the heart, at the exit of the aorta, 
 and the elements of which are provided by the ganglia 
 in the region of the neck ; it is called the cardiac plexus.* 
 It was impossible for me to avoid mentioning this name ; 
 it would riever do to pass silently over so great a per- 
 sonage as the one employed to govern the heart. 
 
 Speaking of government, I ought to tell you that his 
 majesty the brain is represented in these popular assem- 
 blages of plexus, where the cerebral filaments are mixed 
 up intimately with those of the ganglia ; it is by their 
 means that whatever intelligence has seen elsewhere is 
 revealed here, a necessary revelation indispensable to 
 their intervention in the affairs of the life above. The 
 royal messengers in their turn do not fail to create 
 trouble there. They even sometimes seize upon the di- 
 rection of affairs, as happened formerly in the case of 
 the Polish diets, so jealous regarding the management 
 of their country. Thus it is that certain men, so rare, 
 it is true, that they are brought forward as examples in 
 physiological books, have possessed the marvellous fac- 
 ulty of stopping at will", and according to their fancy, 
 the beatings of this pre-eminent republican, the heart. 
 A person possessing this power is in no way to be hon- 
 ored for having such a faculty, seeing that this phenom- 
 enon, so directly at variance with the recognised laws 
 of nature, can only be explained on the supposition of a 
 defective conformation of body. Nature, who is so 
 capricious in her disposal of the ganglia, no doubt ne- 
 glected to give sufficient development to their contingent 
 
 * Cardiac plexus, from the Greek word cardia, signifying a 
 heart. 
 
THE GREAT SYMPATHETIC NERVE. 309 
 
 in the cardiac plexus of these individuals, and the cere- 
 bral fibres thought it a fine opportunity of showing their 
 power, otherwise adieu to the royal will ; it would vainly 
 try to impose upon us if all were at their posts, and the 
 proudest wills we have ever read of in history have never, 
 so far as I know, prevailed over a cardiac plexus that 
 was in proper order. When republics succumb, it can 
 only be attributed to some error in the constitution. 
 
 Here I finish the history of our movements. It would 
 have been incomplete if I had left out this chapter on 
 internal movements, which, like the others, are performed 
 by means of muscular contractions, determined by a 
 nervous centre. Those ^muscles which work for the 
 benefit of nutrition, are not exactly like those which the 
 brain sets in motion ; but I do not think it necessary to 
 proceed further with our anatomical examination into 
 this ganglionic world, which, you must agree with me, it 
 was quite right you should know something of. We do 
 not pretend to be blue stockings ; it is quite enough that 
 we have mastered (as an appendix to the history of the 
 walking machine) the general description 'of those free 
 powers which, in secret and in silence, keep all the parts 
 of the eating machine in motion. This subject is so lit- 
 tle known, that you may turn what you have learned to 
 great advantage among your friends.' 
 
 One word more before I take my leave. 
 
 I spoke to you the other day of centralisation. I am 
 not quite sure whether I was right in doing so. At all 
 events it is done ; and, having begun the comparison be- 
 tween the social body and the human one, I am obliged 
 to carry it out. 
 
 If it is true that each human being possesses within 
 himself a model worthy of being consulted by all those 
 
310 THE GREAT SYMPATHETIC NERVE. 
 
 seeking for the best laws of social organisation- do not 
 alarm yourself, I will put it before you in another form 
 if our body is a little society in such harmony as to serve 
 as a standard for larger ones, we have here an explana- 
 tion of that double instinct which leads nations to seek 
 strength in centralisation, and freedom in decentrali- 
 sation. 
 
 The domain of the brain : I know perfectly well where 
 to look for it in governmental regions. The apparatus 
 of relation is our Minister for Foreign Affairs, and the 
 department of the muscles bears so strong an analogy to 
 that of war, that military comparisons have continually 
 presented themselves to my mind whilst we have been 
 engaged in this study. It is evident that a guiding will 
 is necessary. Nations could not do better than imitate 
 Nature, who has placed all the powers of the body under 
 one guidance, whose action is felt in every part when a 
 struggle has to be maintained against the stranger. I do 
 not require to recapitulate the conditions under which 
 this supreme chief exercises its power, which becomes 
 inert immediately the heart ceases to co-operate with it. 
 
 But other laws govern the interior life. The nutritive 
 apparatus of a country, its commerce, its industry, the 
 incessant labor of its citizens, by which public wealth is 
 kept up, and let us also add the throbs of a national 
 heart ; all this the ganglionic system full plainly shows 
 us requires to be left to itself. It would be a fine affair 
 if the brain had to watch over the service of the stomach, 
 or if, at its convenience, it regulated the movements of the 
 Master who disposes of its life. Besides, how could it 
 accomplish all this, and what would become of the poor 
 body, if the least drowsiness attacked the universal cen- 
 tre ? Happy is it for us, and do' not let us be slow to 
 own it, that Nature has armed herself against these en- 
 
THE GREAT SYMPATHETIC NERVE. 311 
 
 croacbments of power, and only made them possible by 
 some false step on her part. I have already told you 
 that when government interferes with what does not con- 
 cern it, it is the fault of the ganglia. Remember the 
 history of the cardiac plexus. 
 
 With this, my dear child, we shall take leave of each 
 other. We have now reviewed almost every part of the 
 human machine, -and I have little left to show you. 
 That which remains to be seen is not the least curious 
 part, being the outppsts, so to speak, of our sentinels, 
 that which, of all else within us, is the most artistically 
 fashioned, the most exquisitely elaborated. Upon this 
 will follow, perhaps, the most interesting of all ; I mean 
 the invisible, that which is unseen. Adieu, then, iny 
 dear child, until the time when I shall have the pleasure 
 of bringing before you the " History of the Senses and 
 of Thought." 
 
 THE END.