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The Works of William Harvey/A Second Disquisition to John Riolan

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4372869The Works of William Harvey — A Second Disquisition to John RiolanRobert WillisWilliam Harvey

A

SECOND DISQUISITION TO JOHN RIOLAN, JUN.,

IN WHICH

MANY OBJECTIONS

TO THE

CIRCULATION OF THE BLOOD

ARE REFUTED.

A SECOND DISQUISITION TO JOHN RIOLAN.


It is now many years, most learned Riolanus, since, with the aid of the press, I published a portion of my work. But scarce a day, scarce an hour, has passed since the birth-day of the Circulation of the blood, that I have not heard something for good or for evil said of this my discovery. Some abuse it as a feeble infant, and yet unworthy to have seen the light; others, again, think the bantling deserves to be cherished and cared for; these oppose it with much ado, those patronize it with abundant commendation; one party holds that I have completely demonstrated the circulation of the blood by experiment, observation, and ocular inspection, against all force and array of argument; another thinks it scarcely yet sufficiently illustrated —not yet cleared of all objections. There are some, too, who say that I have shown a vainglorious love of vivisections, and who scoff at and deride the introduction of frogs and serpents, flies, and others of the lower animals upon the scene, as a piece of puerile levity, not even refraining from opprobrious epithets.

To return evil speaking with evil speaking, however, I hold to be unworthy in a philosopher and searcher after truth; I believe that I shall do better and more advisedly if I meet so many indications of ill breeding with the light of faithful and conclusive observation. It cannot be helped that dogs bark and vomit their foul stomachs, or that cynics should be numbered among philosophers; but care can be taken that they do not bite or inoculate their mad humours, or with their dogs' teeth gnaw the bones and foundations of truth.

Detractors, mummers, and writers denied with abuse, as I resolved with myself never to read them, satisfied that nothing solid or excellent, nothing but foul terms, was to be expected from them, so have I held them still less worthy of an answer. Let them consume on their own ill nature; they will scarcely find many well-disposed readers, I imagine, nor does God give that which is most excellent and chiefly to be desired—wisdom, to the wicked; let them go on railing, I say, until they are weary, if not ashamed.

If for the sake of studying the meaner animals you should even enter the bakehouse with Heraclitus, as related in Aristotle, I bid you approach; for neither are the immortal Gods absent here, and the great and almighty Father is sometimes most visible in His lesser, and to the eye least considerable works.[1]

In my book on the Motion of the Heart and Blood in Animals, I have only adduced those facts from among many other observations, by which either errors were best refuted, or truth was most strongly supported; I have left many proofs, won by dissection and appreciable to sense, as redundant and unnecessary; some of these, however, I now supply in brief terms, for the sake of the studious, and those who have expressed their desire to have them.

The authority of Galen is of such weight with all, that I have seen several hesitate greatly with that experiment before them, in which the artery is tied upon a tube placed within its cavity; and by which it is proposed to prove that the arterial pulse is produced by a power communicated from the heart through the coats of the arteries, and not from the shock of the blood contained within them; and thence, that the arteries dilate as bellows, are not filled as sacs. This experiment is spoken of by Vesalius, the celebrated anatomist; but neither Vesalius nor Galen says that he had tried the experiment, which, however, I did. Vesalius only prescribes, and Galen advises it, to those anxious to discover the truth, and for their better assurance, not thinking of the difficulties that attend its performance, nor of its futility when done; for indeed, although executed with the greatest skill, it supplies nothing in support of the opinion which maintains that the coats of the vessel are the cause of the pulse; it much rather proclaims that this is owing to the impulse of the blood. For the moment you have thrown your ligature around the artery upon the reed or tube, immediately, by the force of the blood thrown in from above, it is dilated beyond the circle of the tube, by which the flow is impeded, and the shock is broken; so that the artery which is tied only pulsates obscurely, being now cut off from the full force of the blood that flows through it, the shock being reverberated, as it were, from that part of the vessel which is above the ligature; but if the artery below the ligature be now divided, the contrary of what has been maintained will be apparent, from the spurting of the blood impelled through the tube; just as happens in the cases of aneurism, referred to in my book on the Motion of the Blood, which arise from an erosion of the coats of the vessel, and when the blood is contained in a membranous sac, formed not by the coats of the vessel dilated, but preternaturally produced from the surrounding tissues and flesh. The arteries beyond an aneurism of this kind will be felt beating very feebly, whilst in those above it and in the swelling itself the pulse will be perceived of great strength and fulness. And here we cannot imagine that the pulsation and dilatation take place by the coats of the arteries, or any power communicated to the walls of the sac; they are plainly due to the shock of the blood.

But that the error of Vesalius, and the inexperience of those who assert their belief that the part below the tube does not pulsate when the ligature is tied, may be made the more apparent, I can state, after having made the trial, that the inferior part will continue to pulsate if the experiment be properly performed; and whilst they say that when you have undone the ligature the inferior arteries begin again to pulsate, I maintain that the part below beats less forcibly when the ligature is untied than it did when the thread was still tight. But the effusion of blood from the wound confuses everything, and renders the whole experiment unsatisfactory and nugatory, so that nothing certain can be shown, by reason, as I have said, of the hemorrhage. But if, as I know by experience, you lay bare an artery, and control the divided portion by the pressure of your fingers, you may try many things at pleasure by which the truth will be made to appear. In the first place, you will feel the blood coming down in the artery at each pulsation, and visibly dilating the vessel. You may also at will suffer the blood to escape, by relaxing the pressure, and leaving a small outlet; and you will see that it jets out with each stroke, with each contraction of the heart, and with each dilatation of the artery, as I have said in speaking of arteriotomy, and the experiment of perforating the heart. And if you suffer the efflux to go on uninterruptedly, either from the simple divided artery or from a tube inserted into it, you will be able to perceive by the sight, and if you apply your hand, by the touch likewise, every character of the stroke of the heart in the jet; the rhythm, order, intermission, force, &c., of its pulsations, all becoming sensible there, no otherwise than would the jets from a syringe, pushed in succession and with different degrees of force, received upon the palm of the hand, be obvious to sight and touch. I have occasionally observed the jet from a divided carotid artery to be so forcible, that, when received on the hand, the blood rebounded to the distance of four or five feet.

But that the question under discussion, viz.—that the pulsific power does not proceed from the heart by the coats of the vessels, may be set in yet a clearer light, I beg here to refer to a portion of the descending aorta, about a span in length, with its division into the two crural trunks, which I removed from the body of a nobleman, and which is converted into a bony tube; by this hollow tube, nevertheless, did the arterial blood reach the lower extremities of this nobleman during his life, and cause the arteries in these to beat; and yet the main trunk was precisely in the same condition as is the artery in the experiment of Galen, when it is tied upon a hollow tube; where it was converted into bone it could neither dilate nor contract like bellows, nor transmit the pulsific power from the heart to the inferior vessels; it could not convey a force which it was incapable of receiving through the solid matter of the bone. In spite of all, however, I well remember to have frequently noted the pulse in the legs and feet of this patient whilst he lived, for I was myself his most attentive physician, and he my very particular friend. The arteries in the inferior extremities of this nobleman must therefore and of necessity have been dilated by the impulse of the blood like flaccid sacs, and not have expanded in the manner of bellows through the action of their tunics. It is obvious, that whether an artery be tied over a hollow tube, or its tunics be converted into a bony and unyielding canal, the interruption to the pulsific power in the inferior part of the vessel must be the same.

I have known another instance in which a portion of the aorta near the heart was found converted into bone, in the body of a nobleman, a man of great muscular strength. The experiment of Galen, therefore, or, at all events, a state analogous to it, not effected on purpose but encountered by accident, makes it sufficiently to appear, that compression or ligature of the coats of an artery does not interfere with the pulsative properties of its derivative branches; and indeed, if the experiment which Galen recommends were properly performed by any one, its results would be found in opposition to the views which Vesalius believed they would support.

But we do not therefore deny everything like motion to the tunics of the arteries; on the contrary, we allow them the same motions which we concede to the heart, viz., a diastole, and a systole or return from the distended to the natural state; this much we believe to be effected by a power inherent in the coats themselves. But it is to be observed, that they are not both dilated and contracted by the same, but by different causes and means; as may be observed of the motions of all parts, and of the ventricle of the heart itself, which is distended by the auricle, contracted by its own inherent power; so, the arteries are dilated by the stroke of the heart, but they contract or collapse of themselves.[2]

You may also perform another experiment at the same time: if you fill one of two basins of the same size with blood issuing per saltum from an artery, the other with venous blood from a vein of the same animal, you will have an opportunity of perceiving by the eye, both immediately and by and by, when the blood in either vessel has become cold, what differences there are between them. You will find that it is not as they believe who fancy that there is one kind of blood in the arteries and another in the veins, that in the arteries being of a more florid colour, more frothy, and imbued with an abundance of I know not what spirits, effervescing and swelling, and occupying a greater space, like milk or honey set upon the fire. For were the blood which is thrown from the left ventricle of the heart into the arteries, fermented into any such frothy and flatulent fluid, so that a drop or two distended the whole cavity of the aorta; unquestionably, upon the subsidence of this fermentation, the blood would return to its original quantity of a few drops; (and this, indeed, is the reason that some assign for the usually empty state of the arteries in the dead body;) and so should it be with the arterial blood in the cup, for so it is with boiling milk and honey when they come to cool. But if in either basin you find blood nearly of the same colour, not of very different consistency in the coagulated state, forcing out serum in the same manner, and filling the cups to the same height when cold that it did when hot, this will be enough for any one to rest his faith upon, and afford argument enough, I think, for rejecting the dreams that have been promulgated on the subject. Sense and reason alike assure us that the blood contained in the left ventricle is not of a different nature from that in the right. And then, when we see that the mouth of the pulmonary artery is of the same size as the aorta, and in other respects equal to that vessel, it were imperative on us to affirm that the pulmonary artery was distended by a single drop of spumous blood, as well as the aorta, and so that the right as well as the left side of the heart was filled with a brisk or fermenting blood.

The particulars which especially dispose men's minds to admit diversity in the arterial and venous blood are three in number: one, because in arteriotomy the blood that flows is of a more florid hue than that which escapes from a vein; a second, because in the dissection of dead bodies the left ventricle of the heart, and the arteries in general, are mostly found empty; a third, because the arterial blood is believed to be more spirituous, and being replete with spirit is made to occupy a much larger space. The causes and reasons, however, wherefore all these things are so, present themselves to us when we ask after them.

1st. With reference to the colour it is to be observed, that wherever the blood issues by a very small orifice, it is in some measure strained, and the thinner and lighter part, which usually swims on the top and is the most penetrating, is emitted. Thus, in phlebotomy, when the blood escapes forcibly and to a distance, in a full stream, and from a large orifice, it is thicker, has more body, and a darker colour; but, if it flows from a small orifice, and only drop by drop, as it usually does when the bleeding fillet is untied, it is of a brighter hue; for then it is strained as it were, and the thinner and more penetrating portion only escapes; in the same way, in the bleeding from the nose, in that which takes place from a leech-bite, or from scarifications, or in any other way by diapedesis or transudation, the blood is always seen to have a brighter cast, because the thickness and firmness of the coats of the arteries render the outlet or outlets smaller, and less disposed to yield a ready passage to the outpouring blood; it happens also that when fat persons, are let blood, the orifice of the vein is apt to be compressed by the subcutaneous fat, by which the blood is made to appear thinner, more florid, and in some sort arterious. On the other hand, the blood that flows into a basin from a large artery freely divided, will look venous. The blood in the lungs is of a much more florid colour than it is in the arteries, and we know how it is strained through the pulmonary tissue.

2d. The emptiness of the arteries in the dead body, which probably misled Erasistratus in supposing that they only contained aereal spirits, is caused by this, that when respiration ceases the lungs collapse, and then the passages through them are closed; the heart, however, continues for a time to contract upon the blood, whence we find the left auricle more contracted, and the corresponding ventricle, as well as the arteries at large, appearing empty, simply because there is no supply of blood flowing round to fill them. In cases, however, in which the heart has ceased to pulsate and the lungs to afford a passage to the blood simultaneously, as in those who have died from drowning or syncope, or who die suddenly, you will find the arteries, as well as the veins, full of blood.

3d. With reference to the third point, or that of the spirits, it may be said that, as it is still a question what they are, how extant in the body, of what consistency, whether separate and distinct from the blood and solids, or mingled with these,—upon each and all of these points there are so many and such conflicting opinions, that it is not wonderful that the spirits, whose nature is thus left so wholly ambiguous, should serve as the common subterfuge of ignorance. Persons of limited information, when they are at a loss to assign a cause for anything, very commonly reply that it is done by the spirits; and so they bring the spirits into play upon all occasions; even as indifferent poets are always thrusting the gods upon the stage as a means of unravelling the plot, and bringing about the catastrophe.

Fernelius, and many others, suppose that there are aereal spirits and invisible substances. Fernelius proves that there are animal spirits, by saying that the cells in the brain are apparently unoccupied, and as nature abhors a vacuum, he concludes that in the living body they are filled with spirits, just as Erasistratus had held that, because the arteries were empty of blood, therefore they must be filled with spirits. But Medical Schools admit three kinds of spirits: the natural spirits flowing through the veins, the vital spirits through the arteries, and the animal spirits through the nerves; whence physicians say, out of Galen, that sometimes the parts of the brain are oppressed by sympathy, because the faculty with the essence, i. e., the spirit, is overwhelmed; and sometimes this happens independently of the essence. Farther, besides the three orders of influxive spirits adverted to, a like number of implanted or stationary spirits seem to be acknowledged; but we have found none of all these spirits by dissection, neither in the veins, nerves, arteries, nor other parts of living animals. Some speak of corporeal, others of incorporeal spirits; and they who advocate the corporeal spirits will have the blood, or the thinner portion of the blood, to be the bond of union with the soul, the spirit being contained in the blood as the flame is in the smoke of a lamp or candle, and held admixed by the incessant motion of the fluid; others, again, distinguish between the spirits and the blood. They who advocate incorporeal spirits have no ground of experience to stand upon; their spirits indeed are synonymous with powers or faculties, such as a concoctive spirit, a chylopoietic spirit, a procreative spirit, &c.—they admit as many spirits, in short, as there are faculties or organs.

But then the schoolmen speak of a spirit of fortitude, prudence, patience, and the other virtues, and also of a most holy spirit of wisdom, and of every divine gift; and they besides suppose that there are good and evil spirits that roam about or possess the body, that assist or cast obstacles in the way. They hold some diseases to be owing to a Cacodæmon or evil spirit, as there are others that are due to a cacochemy or defective assimilation.

Although there is nothing more uncertain and questionable, then, than the doctrine of spirits that is proposed to us, nevertheless physicians seem for the major part to conclude, with Hippocrates, that our body is composed or made up of three elements, viz., containing parts, contained parts, and causes of action, spirits being understood by the latter term. But if spirits are to be taken as synonymous with causes of activity, whatever has power in the living body and a faculty of action must be included under the denomination. It would appear, therefore, that all spirits were neither aereal substances, nor powers, nor habits; and that all were not incorporeal.

But keeping in view the points that especially interest us, others, as leading to tediousness, being left unnoticed, it seems that the spirits which flow by the veins or the arteries are not distinct from the blood, any more than the flame of a lamp is distinct from the inflammable vapour that is on fire; in short, that the blood and these spirits signify one and the same thing, though different,—like generous wine and its spirit; for as wine, when it has lost all its spirit, is no longer wine, but a vapid liquor or vinegar; so blood without spirit is not blood, but something else—clot or cruor; even as a hand of stone, or of a dead body, is no hand in the most complete sense, neither is blood void of the vital principle proper blood; it is immediately to be held as corrupt when deprived of its spirit. The spirit therefore which inheres in the arteries, and especially in the blood which fills them, is to be regarded either as its act or agent, in the same way as the spirit of wine in wine, and the spirit of aqua vitse in brandy, or as a flame kindled in alcohol, which lives and feeds on, or is nourished by itself. The blood consequently, though richly imbued with spirits, does not swell, nor ferment, nor rise to a head through them, so as to require and occupy a larger space,—a fact that may be ascertained beyond the possibility of question by the two cups of equal size; it is to be regarded as wine, possessed of a large amount of spirits, or, in the Hippocratic sense, of signal powers of acting and effecting.

It is therefore the same blood in the arteries that is found in the veins, although it may be admitted to be more spirituous, possessed of higher vital force in the former than in the latter; but it is not changed into anything more vaporous, or more aereal, as if there were no spirits but such as are aereal, and no cause of action or activity that is not of the nature of flatus or wind. But neither the animal, natural, nor vital spirits which inhere in the solids, such as the ligaments and nerves (especially if they be of so many different species), and are contained within the viewless interstices of the tissues, are to be regarded as so many different aereal forms, or kinds of vapour.

And here I would gladly be informed by those who admit corporeal spirits, but of a gaseous or vaporous consistency, in the bodies of animals, whether or not they have the power of passing hither and thither, like distinct bodies independently of the blood? Or whether the spirits follow the blood in its motions, either as integral parts of the fluid or as indissolubly connected with it, so that they can neither quit the tissues nor pass hither nor thither without the influx and reflux, and motion of the blood? For if the spirits exhaling from the blood, like the vapour of water attenuated by heat, exist in a state of constant flow and succession as the pabulum of the tissues, it necessarily follows that they are not distinct from this pabulum, but are incessantly disappearing; whereby it seems that they can neither have influx nor reflux, nor passage, nor yet remain at rest without the influx, the reflux, the passage [or stasis] of the blood, which is the fluid that serves as their vehicle or pabulum.

And next I desire to know of those who tell us that the spirits are formed in the heart, being compounded of the vapours or exhalations of the blood (excited either by the heat of the heart or the concussion) and the inspired air, whether such spirits are not to be accounted much colder than the blood, seeing that both the elements of their composition, namely, air and vapour, are much colder? For the vapour of boiling water is much more bearable than the water itself; the flame of a candle is less burning than the red-hot snuff, and burning charcoal than incandescent iron or brass. Whence it would appear that spirits of this nature rather receive their heat from the blood, than that the blood is warmed by these spirits; such spirits are rather to be regarded as fumes and excrementitious effluvia proceeding from the body in the manner of odours, than in any way as natural artificers of the tissues; a conclusion which we are the more disposed to admit, when we see that they so speedily lose any virtue they may possess, and which they had derived from the blood as their source,—they are at best of a very frail and evanescent nature. Whence also it becomes probable that the expiration of the lungs is a means by which these vapours being cast off, the blood is fanned and purified; whilst inspiration is a means by which the blood in its passage between the two ventricles of the heart is tempered by the cold of the ambient atmosphere, lest, getting heated, and blown up with a kind of fermentation, like milk or honey set over the fire, it should so distend the lungs that the animal got suffocated; somewhat in the same way, perchance, as one labouring under a severe asthma, which Galen himself seems to refer to its proper cause when he says it is owing to an obstruction of the smaller arteries, viz., the vasa venosa et arteriosa. And I have found by experience that patients affected with asthma might be brought out of states of very imminent danger by having cupping-glasses applied, and a plentiful and sudden affusion of cold water [upon the chest]. Thus much—and perhaps it is more than was necessary—have I said on the subject of spirits in this place, for I felt it proper to define them, and to say something of their nature in a physiological disquisition.

I shall only further add, that they who descant on the calidum innatum or innate heat, as an instrument of nature available for every purpose, and who speak of the necessity of heat as the cherisher and retainer in life of the several parts of the body, who at the same time admit that this heat cannot exist unless connected with something, and because they find no substance of anything like commensurate mobility, or which might keep pace with the rapid influx and reflux of this heat (in affections of the mind especially), take refuge in spirits as most subtile substances, possessed of the most penetrating qualities, and highest mobility—these persons see nothing less than the wonderful and almost divine character of the natural operations as proceeding from the instrumentality of this common agent, viz., the calidum innatum; they farther regard these spirits as of a sublime, lucid, ethereal, celestial, or divine nature, and the hond of the soul; even as the vulgar and unlettered, when they do not comprehend the causes of various effects, refer them to the immediate interposition of the Deity. Whence they declare that the heat perpetually flowing into the several parts is in virtue of the influx of spirits through the channels of the arteries; as if the blood could neither move so swiftly, nor penetrate so intimately, nor cherish so effectually. And such faith do they put in this opinion, such lengths are they carried by their belief, that they deny the contents of the arteries to be blood! And then they proceed with trivial reasonings to maintain that the arterial blood is of a peculiar kind, or that the arteries are filled with such aereal spirits, and not with blood; all the while, in opposition to everything which Galen has advanced against Erasistratus, both on grounds of experiment and of reason. But that arterial blood differs in nothing essential from venous blood has been already sufficiently demonstrated; and our senses likewise assure us that the blood and spirits do not flow in the arteries separately and disjoined, but as one body.

We have occasion to observe so often as our hands, feet, or ears have become stiff and cold, that as they recover again by the warmth that flows into them, they acquire their natural colour and heat simultaneously; that the veins which had become small and shrunk, swell visibly and enlarge, so that when they regain their heat suddenly they become painful; from which it appears, that that which by its influx brings heat is the same which causes repletion and colour; now this can be and is nothing but blood.

When an artery and a vein are divided, any one may clearly see that the part of the vein towards the heart pours out no blood, whilst that beyond the wound gives a torrent; the divided artery, on the contrary, (as in my experiment on the carotids,) pours out a flood of pure blood from the orifice next the heart, and in jets as if it were forced from a syringe, whilst from the further orifice of the divided artery little or no blood escapes. This experiment therefore plainly proves in what direction the current sets in either order of vessels—towards the heart in the veins, from the heart in the arteries; it also shows with what velocity the current moves, not gradually and by drops, but even with violence. And lest any one, by way of subterfuge, should take shelter in the notion of invisible spirits, let the orifice of the divided vessel be plunged under water or oil, when, if there be any air contained in it, the fact will be proclaimed by a succession of visible bubbles. Hornets, wasps, and other insects of the same description plunged in oil, and so suffocated, emit bubbles of air from their tail whilst they are dying; whence it is not improbable that they thus respire when alive; for all animals submerged and drowned, when they finally sink to the bottom and die, emit bubbles of air from the mouth and lungs. It is also demonstrated by the same experiment, that the valves of the veins act with such accuracy, that air blown into them does not penetrate; much less then can blood make its way through them:—it is certain, I say, that neither sensibly nor insensibly, nor gradually and drop by drop, can any blood pass from the heart by the veins.

And that no one may seek shelter in asserting that these things are so when nature is disturbed and opposed, but not when she is left to herself and at liberty to act; that the same things do not come to pass in morbid and unusual states as in the healthy and natural condition; they are to be met by saying, that if it were so, if it happened that so much blood was lost from the farther orifice of a divided vein because nature was disturbed, still that the incision does not close the nearer orifice, from which nothing either escapes or can be expressed, whether nature be disturbed or not. Others argue in the same way, maintaining that, although the blood immediately spurts out in such profusion with every beat, when an artery is divided near the heart, it does not therefore follow that the blood is propelled by the pulse when the heart and artery are entire. It is most probable, however, that every stroke impels something; and that there would be no pulse of the container, without an impulse being communicated to the thing contained, seems certain. Yet some, that they may seize upon a farther means of defence, and escape the necessity of admitting the circulation, do not fear to affirm that the arteries in the living body and in the natural state are already so full of blood, that they are incapable of receiving another drop; and so also of the ventricles of the heart. But it is indubitable that, whatever the degree of distension and the extent of contraction of the heart and arteries, they are still in a condition to receive an additional quantity of blood forced into them, and that this is far more than is usually reckoned in grains or drops, seems also certain. For if the ventricles become so excessively distended that they will admit no more blood, the heart ceases to beat, (and we have occasional opportunities of observing the fact in our vivisections,) and, continuing tense and resisting, death by asphyxia ensues.

In the work on the Motion of the Heart and Blood, I have already sufficiently discussed the question as to whether the blood in its motion was attracted, or impelled, or moved by its own inherent nature. I have there also spoken at length of the action and office, of the dilatation and contraction of the heart, and have shown what these truly are, and how the heart contracts during the diastole of the arteries; so that I must hold those who take points for dispute from among them as either not understanding the subject, or as unwilling to look at things for themselves, and to investigate them with their own senses. [3]

For my part, I believe that no other kind of attraction can be demonstrated in the living body save that of the nutriment, which gradually and incessantly passes on to supply the waste that takes place in the tissues; in the same way as the oil rises in the wick of a lamp to be consumed by the flame. Whence I conclude that the primary and common organ of all sensible attraction and impulsion is of the nature of sinew (nervus), or fibre, or muscle, and this to the end that it may be contractile, that contracting it may be shortened, and so either stretch out, draw towards, or propel. But these topics will be better discussed elsewhere, when we speak of the organs of motion in the animal body.

To those who repudiate the circulation because they neither see the efficient nor final cause of it, and who exclaim, cui bono? I have yet to reply, having hitherto taken no note of the ground of objection which they take up. And first I own I am of opinion that our first duty is to inquire whether the thing be or not, before asking wherefore it is? for from the facts and circumstances which meet us in the circulation admitted, established, the ends and objects of its institution are especially to be sought. Meantime I would only ask, how many things we admit in physiology, pathology, and therapeutics, the causes of which are unknown to us? That there are many, no one doubts—the causes of putrid fevers, of revulsions, of the purgation of excrementitious matters, among the number.

Whoever, therefore, sets himself in opposition to the circulation, because, if it be acknowledged, he cannot account for a variety of medical problems, nor in the treatment of diseases and the administration of medicines, give satisfactory reasons for the phenomena that appear; or who will not see that the precepts he has received from his teachers are false; or who thinks it unseemly to give up accredited opinions; or who regards it as in some sort criminal to call in question doctrines that have descended through a long succession of ages, and carry the authority of the ancients;—to all of these I reply: that the facts cognizable by the senses wait upon no opinions, and that the works of nature bow to no antiquity; for indeed there is nothing either more ancient or of higher authority than nature.

To those who object to the circulation as throwing obstacles in the way of their explanations of the phenomena that occur in medical cases (and there are persons who will not be content to take up with a new system, unless it explains everything, as in astronomy), and who oppose it with their own erroneous assumptions, such as that, if it be true, phlebotomy cannot cause revulsion, seeing that the blood will still continue to be forced into the affected part; that the passage of excrementitious matters and foul humours through the heart, that most noble and principal viscus, is to be apprehended; that an efflux and excretion, occasionally of foul and corrupt blood, takes place from the same body, from different parts, even from the same part and at the same time, which, were the blood agitated by a continuous current, would be shaken and effectually mixed in passing through the heart, and many points of the like kind admitted in our medical schools, which are seen to be repugnant to the doctrine of the circulation,—to them I shall not answer farther here, than that the circulation is not always the same in every place, and at every time, but is contingent upon many circumstances: the more rapid or slower motion of the blood, the strength or weakness of the heart as the propelling organ, the quantity and quality or constitution of the blood, the rigidity or laxity of the tissues, and the like. A thicker blood, of course, moves more slowly through narrower channels; it is more effectually strained in its passage through the substance of the liver than through that of the lungs. It has not the same velocity through flesh and the softer parenchymatous structures and through sinewy parts of greater compactness and consistency: for the thinner and purer and more spirituous part permeates more quickly, the thicker more earthy and indifferently concocted portion moves more slowly, or is refused admission. The nutritive portion, or ultimate aliment of the tissues, the dew or cambium, is of a more penetrating nature, inasmuch as it has to be added everywhere, and to everything that grows and is nourished in its length and thickness, even to the horns, nails, hair and feathers; and then the excrementitious matters have to be secreted in some places, where they accumulate, and either prove a burthen or are concocted. But I do not imagine that the excrementitious fluids or bad humours when once separated, nor the milk, the phlegm, and the spermatic fluid, nor the ultimate nutritive part, the dew or cambium, necessarily circulate with the blood: that which nourishes every part adheres and becomes agglutinated to it. Upon each of these topics and various others besides, to be discussed and demonstrated in their several places, viz., in the physiology and other parts of the art of medicine, as well as of the consequences, advantages or disadvantages of the circulation of the blood, I do not mean to touch here; it were fruitless indeed to do so until the circulation has been established and conceded as a fact. And here the example of astronomy is by no means to be followed, in which from mere appearances or phenomena that which is in fact, and the reason wherefore it is so, are investigated. But as he who inquires into the cause of an eclipse must be placed beyond the moon if he would ascertain it by sense, and not by reason, still, in reference to things sensible, things that come under the cognizance of the senses, no more certain demonstration or means of gaining faith can be adduced than examination by the senses, than ocular inspection.

There is one remarkable experiment which I would have every one try who is anxious for truth, and by which it is clearly shown that the arterial pulse is owing to the impulse of the blood. Let a portion of the dried intestine of a dog or wolf, or any other animal, such as we see hung up in the druggists' shops, be taken and filled with water, and then secured at both ends like a sausage: by tapping with the finger at one extremity, you will immediately feel a pulse and vibration in any other part to which you apply the fingers, as you do when you feel the pulse at the wrist. In this way, indeed, and also by means of a distended vein, you may accurately either in the dead or living body, imitate and show every variety of the pulse, whether as to force, frequency, volume, rhythm, &c. Just as in a long bladder full of fluid, or in an oblong drum, every stroke upon one end is immediately felt at the other; so also in a dropsy of the belly and in abscesses under the skin, we are accustomed to distinguish between collections of fluid and of air, between anasarca and tympanites in particular. If a slap or push given on one side is clearly felt by a hand placed on the other side, we judge the case to be tympanites [?]; not, as falsely asserted, because we hear a sound like that of a drum, and this produced by flatus, which never happens [?]; but because, as in a drum, every the slightest tap passes through and produces a certain vibration on the opposite side; for it indicates that there is a serous and ichorous substance present, of such a consistency as urine, and not any sluggish or viscid matter as in anasarca, which when struck retains the impress of the blow or pressure, and does not transmit the impulse.

Having brought forward this experiment I may observe, that a most formidable objection to the circulation of the blood rises out of it, which, however, has neither been observed nor adduced by any one who has written against me. When we see by the experiment just described, that the systole and diastole of the pulse can be accurately imitated without any escape of fluid, it is obvious that the same thing may take place in the arteries from the stroke of the heart, without the necessity for a circulation, but like Euripus, with a mere motion of the blood alternately backwards and forwards. But we have already satisfactorily replied to this difficulty; and now we venture to say that the thing could not be so in the arteries of a living animal; to be assured of this it is enough to see that the right auricle is incessantly injecting the right ventricle of the heart with blood, the return of which is effectually prevented by the tricuspid valves; the left auricle in like manner filling the left ventricle, the return of the blood there being opposed by the mitral valves; and then the ventricles in their turn are propelling the blood into either great artery, the reflux in each being prevented by the sigmoid valves in its orifice. Either, consequently, the blood must move on incessantly through the lungs, and in like manner within the arteries of the body, or stagnating and pent up, it must rupture the containing vessels, or choke the heart by over distension, as I have shown it to do in the vivisection of a snake, described in my book on the Motion of the Blood. To resolve this doubt I shall relate two experiments among many others, the first of which, indeed, I have already adduced, and which show with singular clearness that the blood flows incessantly and with great force and in ample abundance in the veins towards the heart. The internal jugular vein of a live fallow deer having been exposed, (many of the nobility and his most serene majesty the king, my master, being present,) was divided; but a few drops of blood were observed to escape from the lower orifice rising up from under the clavicle; whilst from the superior orifice of the vein and coming down from the head, a round torrent of blood gushed forth. You may observe the same fact any day in practising phlebotomy: if with a finger you compress the vein a little below the orifice, the flow of blood is immediately arrested; but the pressure being removed, forthwith the flow returns as before.

From any long vein of the forearm get rid of the blood as much as possible by holding the hand aloft and pressing the blood towards the trunk, you will perceive the vein collapsed and leaving, as it were, in a furrow of the skin; but now compress the vein with the point of a finger, and you will immediately perceive all that part of it which is towards the hand, to enlarge and to become distended with the blood that is coming from the hand. How comes it when the breath is held and the lungs thereby compressed, a large quantity of air having been taken in, that the vessels of the chest are at the same time obstructed, the blood driven into the face, and the eyes rendered red and suffused? Why is it, as Aristotle asks in his problems, that all the actions are more energetically performed when the breath is held than when it is given? In like manner, when the frontal and lingual veins are incised, the blood is made to flow more freely by compressing the neck and holding the breath. I have several times opened the breast and pericardium of a man within two hours after his execution by hanging, and before the colour had totally left the face, and in presence of many witnesses, have demonstrated the right auricle of the heart and the lungs distended with blood; the auricle in particular of the size of a large man's fist, and so full of blood that it looked as if it would burst. This great distension, however, had disappeared next day, the body having stiffened and become cold, and the blood having made its escape through various channels. These and other similar facts, therefore, make it sufficiently certain that the blood flows through the whole of the veins of the body towards the base of the heart, and that unless there was a further passage afforded it, it would be pent up in these channels, or would oppress and overwhelm the heart; as on the other hand, did it not flow outwards by the arteries, but was found regurgitating, it would soon be seen how much it would oppress.

I add another observation. A noble knight, Sir Robert Darcy, an ancestor of that celebrated physician and most learned man, my very dear friend Dr. Argent, when he had reached to about the middle period of life, made frequent complaint of a certain distressing pain in the chest, especially in the night season; so that dreading at one time syncope, at another suffocation in his attacks he led an unquiet and anxious life. He tried many remedies in vain, having had the advice of almost every medical man. The disease going on from bad to worse, he by and by became cachectic and dropsical, and finally, grievously distressed, he died in one of his paroxysms. In the body of this gentleman, at the inspection of which there were present Dr. Argent, then president of the College of Physicians, and Dr. Gorge, a distinguished theologian and preacher, who was pastor of the parish, we found the wall of the left ventricle of the heart ruptured, having a rent in it of size sufficient to admit any of my fingers, although the wall itself appeared sufficiently thick and strong; this laceration had apparently been caused by an impediment to the passage of the blood from the left ventricle into the arteries.

I was acquainted with another strong man, who having received an injury and affront from one more powerful than himself, and upon whom he could not have his revenge, was so overcome with hatred and spite and passion, which he yet communicated to no one, that at last he fell into a strange distemper, suffering from extreme oppression and pain of the heart and breast, and the prescriptions of none of the very best physicians proving of any avail, he fell in the course of a few years into a scorbutic and cachectic state, became tabid and died. This patient only received some little relief when the whole of his chest was pummelled or kneaded by a strong man, as a baker kneads dough. His friends thought him poisoned by some maleficent influence, or possessed with an evil spirit. His jugular arteries, enlarged to the size of the thumb, looked like the aorta itself, or they were as large as the descending aorta; they had pulsated violently, and appeared like two long aneurisms. These symptoms had led to trying the effects of arteriotomy in the temples, but with no relief. In the dead body I found the heart and aorta so much gorged and distended with blood, that the cavities of the ventricles equalled those of a bullock's heart in size. Such is the force of the blood pent up, and such are the effects of its impulse.

We may therefore conclude, that although there may be impulse without any exit, as illustrated in the experiment lately spoken of, still that this could not take place in the vessels of living creatures without most serious dangers and impediments. From this, however, it is manifest that the blood in its course does not everywhere pass with the same celerity, neither with the same force in all places and at all times, but that it varies greatly according to age, sex, temperament, habit of body, and other contingent circumstances, external as well as internal, natural or non-natural. For it does not course through intricate and obstructed passages with the same readiness that it does through straight, unimpeded, and pervious channels. Neither does it run through close, hard, and crowded parts, with the same velocity as through spongy, soft, and permeable tissues. Neither does it flow and penetrate with such swiftness when the impulse [of the heart] is slow and weak, as when this is forcible and frequent, in which case the blood is driven onwards with vigour and in large quantity. Nor is the same blood, when it has become more consistent or earthy, so penetrative as when it is more serous and attenuated or liquid. And then it seems only reasonable to think that the blood in its circuit passes more slowly through the kidneys than through the substance of the heart; more swiftly through the liver than through the kidneys; through the spleen more quickly than through the lungs, and through the lungs more speedily than through any of the other viscera or the muscles, in proportion always to the denseness or sponginess of the tissue of each.

We may be permitted to take the same view of the influence of age, sex, temperament, and habit of body, whether this be hard or soft; of that of the ambient cold which condenses bodies, and makes the veins in the extremities to shrink and almost to disappear, and deprives the surface both of colour and heat; and also of that of meat and drink which render the blood more watery, by supplying fresh nutritive matter. From the veins, therefore, the blood flows more freely in phlebotomy when the body is warm than when it is cold. We also observe the signal influence of the affections of the mind when a timid person is bled and happens to faint: immediately the flow of blood is arrested, a deadly pallor overspreads the surface, the limbs stiffen, the ears sing, the eyes are dazzled or blinded, and, as it were, convulsed. But here I come upon a field where I might roam freely and give myself up to speculation. And, indeed, such a flood of light and truth breaks in upon me here; occasion offers of explaining so many problems, of resolving so many doubts, of discovering the causes of so many slighter and more serious diseases, and of suggesting remedies for their cure, that the subject seems almost to demand a separate treatise. And it will be my business in my 'Medical Observations,' to lay before my reader matter upon all these topics which shall be worthy of the gravest consideration.

And what indeed is more deserving of attention than the fact that in almost every affection, appetite, hope, or fear, our body suffers, the countenance changes, and the blood appears to course hither and thither. In anger the eyes are fiery and the pupils contracted; in modesty the cheeks are suffused with blushes; in fear, and under a sense of infamy and of shame, the face is pale, but the ears burn as if for the evil they heard or were to hear; in lust how quickly is the member distended with blood and erected! But, above all, and this is of the highest interest to the medical practitioner,—how speedily is pain relieved or removed by the detraction of blood, the application of cupping-glasses, or the compression of the artery which leads to a part? It sometimes vanishes as if by magic. But these are topics that I must refer to my 'Medical Observations/ where they will be found exposed at length and explained.

Some weak and inexperienced persons vainly seek by dialectics and far-fetched arguments, either to upset or establish things that are only to be founded on anatomical demonstration, and believed on the evidence of the senses. He who truly desires to be informed of the question in hand, and whether the facts alleged be sensible, visible, or not, must be held bound either to look for himself, or to take on trust the conclusions to which they have come who have looked; and indeed there is no higher method of attaining to assurance and certainty. Who would pretend to persuade those who had never tasted wine that it was a drink much pleasanter to the palate than water? By what reasoning should we give the blind from birth to know that the sun was luminous, and far surpassed the stars in brightness? And so it is with the circulation of the blood, which the world has now had before it for so many years, illustrated by proofs cognizable by the senses, and confirmed by various experiments. No one has yet been found to dispute the sensible facts, the motion, efflux and afflux of the blood, by like observations based on the evidence of sense, or to oppose the experiments adduced, by other experiments of the same character; nay, no one has yet attempted an opposition on the ground of ocular testimony.

There have not been wanting many who, inexperienced and ignorant of anatomy, and making no appeal to the senses in their opposition, have, on the contrary, met it with empty assertions, and mere suppositions, with assertions derived from the lessons of teachers and captious cavillings; many, too, have vainly sought refuge in words, and these not always very nicely chosen, but reproachful and contumelious; which, however, have no farther effect than to expose their utterer's vanity and weakness, and ill breeding and lack of the arguments that are to be sought in the conclusions of the senses, and false sophistical reasonings that seem utterly opposed to sense. Even as the waves of the Sicilian sea, excited by the blast, dash against the rocks around Charybdis, and then hiss and foam, and are tossed hither and thither; so do they who reason against the evidence of their senses.

Were nothing to be acknowledged by the senses without evidence derived from reason, or occasionally even contrary to the previously received conclusions of reason, there would now be no problem left for discussion. Had we not our most perfect assurances by the senses, and were not their perceptions confirmed by reasoning, in the same way as geometricians proceed with their figures, we should admit no science of any kind; for it is the business of geometry, from things sensible, to make rational demonstration of things that are not sensible; to render credible or certain things abstruse and beyond sense from things more manifest and better known. Aristotle counsels us better when, in treating of the generation of bees, he says:[4] "Faith is to be given to reason, if the matters demonstrated agree with those that are perceived by the senses; when the things have been thoroughly scrutinized, then are the senses to be trusted rather than the reason." "Whence it is our duty to approve or disapprove, to receive or reject everything only after the most careful examination; but to examine, to test whether anything have been well or ill advanced, to ascertain whether some falsehood does not lurk under a proposition, it is imperative on us to bring it to the proof of sense, and to admit or reject it on the decision of sense. Whence Plato in his Critias, says, that the explanation of those things is not difficult of which we can have experience; whilst they are not of apt scientific apprehension who have no experience.

How difficult is it to teach those who have no experience, the things of which they have not any knowledge by their senses! And how useless and intractable, and unimpregnable to true science are such auditors! They show the judgment of the blind in regard to colours, of the deaf in reference to concords. Who ever pretended to teach the ebb and flow of the tide, or from a diagram to demonstrate the measurements of the angles and the proportions of the sides of a triangle to a blind man, or to one who had never seen the sea nor a diagram? He who is not conversant with anatomy, inasmuch as he forms no conception of the subject from the evidence of his own eyes, is virtually blind to all that concerns anatomy, and unfit to appreciate what is founded thereon; he knows nothing of that which occupies the attention of the anatomist, nor of the principles inherent in the nature of the things which guide him in his reasonings; facts and inferences as well as their sources are alike unknown to such a one. But no kind of science can possibly flow, save from some pre-existing knowledge of more obvious things; and this is one main reason why our science in regard to the nature of celestial bodies, is so uncertain and conjectural. I would ask of those who profess a knowledge of the causes of all things, why the two eyes keep constantly moving together, up or down, to this side or to that, and not independently, one looking this way another that; why the two auricles of the heart contract simultaneously, and the like? Are fevers, pestilence, and the wonderful properties of various medicines to be denied because their causes are unknown? Who can tell us why the foetus in utero, breathing no air up to the tenth month of its existence, is yet not suffocated? born in the course of the seventh or eighth month, and having once breathed, it is nevertheless speedily suffocated if its respiration be interrupted. Why can the foetus still contained within the uterus, or enveloped in the membranes, live without respiration; whilst once exposed to the air, unless it breathes it inevitably dies?[5]

Observing that many hesitate to acknowledge the circulation, and others oppose it, because, as I conceive, they have not rightly understood me, I shall here recapitulate briefly what I have said in my work on the Motion of the Heart and Blood. The blood contained in the veins, in its magazine, and where it is collected in largest quantity, viz., in the vena cava, close to the base of the heart and right auricle, gradually increasing in temperature by its internal heat, and becoming attenuated, swells and rises like bodies in a state of fermentation, whereby the auricle being dilated, and then contracting, in virtue of its pulsative power, forthwith delivers its charge into the right ventricle; which being filled, and the systole ensuing, the charge, hindered from returning into the auricle by the tricuspid valves, is forced into the pulmonary artery, which stands open to receive it, and is immediately distended with it. Once in the pulmonary artery, the blood cannot return, by reason of the sigmoid valves; and then the lungs, alternately expanded and contracted during inspiration and expiration, afford it passage by the proper vessels into the pulmonary veins; from the pulmonary veins, the left auricle, acting equally and synchronously with the right auricle, delivers the blood into the left ventricle; which acting harmoniously with the right ventricle, and all regress being prevented by the mitral valves, the blood is projected into the aorta, and consequently impelled into all the arteries of the body. The arteries, filled by this sudden push, as they cannot discharge themselves so speedily, are distended; they receive a shock, or undergo their diastole. But as this process goes on incessantly, I infer that the arteries both of the lungs and of the body at large, under the influence of such a multitude of strokes of the heart and injections of blood, would finally become so over-gorged and distended, that either any further injection must cease, or the vessels would burst, or the whole blood in the body would accumulate within them, were there not an exit provided for it.

The same reasoning is applicable to the ventricles of the heart: distended by the ceaseless action of the auricles, did they not disburthen themselves by the channels of the arteries, they would by and by become over-gorged, and be fixed and made incapable of all motion. Now this, my conclusion, is true and necessary, if my premises be true; but that these are either true or false, our senses must inform us, not our reason—ocular inspection, not any process of the mind.

I maintain further, that the blood in the veins always and everywhere flows from less to greater branches, and from every part towards the heart; whence I gather that the whole charge which the arteries receive, and which is incessantly thrown into them, is delivered to the veins, and flows back by them to the source whence it came. In this way, indeed, is the circulation of the blood established: by an efflux and reflux from and to the heart; the fluid being forcibly projected into the arterial system, and then absorbed and imbibed from every part by the veins, it returns through these in a continuous stream. That all this is so, sense assures us; and necessary inference from the perceptions of sense takes away all occasion for doubt. Lastly, this is what I have striven, by my observations and experiments, to illustrate and make known; I have not endeavoured from causes and probable principles to demonstrate my propositions, but, as of higher authority, to establish them by appeals to sense and experiment, after the manner of anatomists.

And here I would refer to the amount of force, even of violence, which sight and touch make us aware of in the heart and greater arteries; and to the systole and diastole constituting the pulse in the large warm-blooded animals, which I do not say is equal in all the vessels containing blood, nor in all animals that have blood; but which is of such a nature and amount in all, that a flow and rapid passage of the blood through the smaller arteries, the interstices of the tissues, and the branches of the veins, must of necessity take place; and therefore there is a circulation. For neither do the most minute arteries, nor the veins, pulsate; but the larger arteries and those near the heart pulsate, because they do not transmit the blood so quickly as they receive it.[6] Having exposed an artery, and divided it so that the blood shall flow out as fast and freely as it is received, you will scarcely perceive any pulse in that vessel; and for the simple reason, that an open passage being afforded, the blood escapes, merely passing through the vessel, not distending it. In fishes, serpents, and the colder animals, the heart beats so slowly and feebly, that a pulse can scarcely be perceived in the arteries; the blood in them is transmitted gradually. Whence in them, as also in the smaller branches of the arteries in man, there is no distinction between the coats of the arteries and veins, because the arteries have to sustain no shock from the impulse of the blood.

An artery denuded and divided in the way I have indicated, sustains no shock, and therefore does not pulsate; whence it clearly appears that the arteries have no inherent pulsative power, and that neither do they derive any from the heart; but that they undergo their diastole solely from the impulse of the blood; for in the full stream, flowing to a distance, you may see the systole and diastole, all the motions of the heart—their order, force, rhythm, &c.,[7] as it were in a mirror, and even perceive them by the touch. Precisely as in the water that is forced aloft, through a leaden pipe, by working the piston of a forcing-pump, each stroke of which, though the jet be many feet distant, is nevertheless distinctly perceptible,—the beginning, increasing strength, and end of the impulse, as well as its amount, and the regularity or irregularity with which it is given, being indicated, the same precisely is the case from the orifice of a divided artery; whence, as in the instance of the forcing engine quoted, you will perceive that the efflux is uninterrupted, although the jet is alternately greater and less. In the arteries, therefore, besides the concussion or impulse of the blood, the pulse or beat of the artery, which is not equally exhibited in all, there is a perpetual flow and motion of the blood, which returns in an unbroken stream to the point from whence it commenced—the right auricle of the heart.

All these points you may satisfy yourself upon, by exposing one of the longer arteries, and having taken it between your finger and thumb, dividing it on the side remote from the heart. By the greater or less pressure of your fingers, you can have the vessel pulsating less or more, or losing the pulse entirely, and recovering it at will. And as these things proceed thus when the chest is uninjured, so also do they go on for a short time when the thorax is laid open, and the lungs having collapsed, all the respiratory motions have ceased; here, nevertheless, for a little while you may perceive the left auricle contracting and emptying itself, and becoming whiter; but by and by growing weaker and weaker, it begins to intermit, as does the left ventricle also, and then it ceases to beat altogether, and becomes quiescent. Along with this, and in the same measure, does the stream of blood from the divided artery grow less and less, the pulse of the vessel weaker and weaker, until at last, the supply of blood and the impulse of the left ventricle failing, nothing escapes from it. You may perform the same experiment, tying the pulmonary veins, and so taking away the pulse of the left auricle, or relaxing the ligature, and restoring it at pleasure. In this experiment, too, you will observe what happens in moribund animals, viz., that the left ventricle first ceases from pulsation and motion, then the left auricle, next the right ventricle, finally the right auricle; so that where the vital force and pulse first begin, there do they also last fail.

All of these particulars having been recognized by the senses, it is manifest that the blood passes through the lungs, not through the septum [in its course from the right to the left side of the heart], and only through them when they are moved in the act of respiration, not when they are collapsed and quiescent; whence we see the probable reason wherefore nature has instituted the foramen ovale in the fœtus, instead of sending the blood by the way of the pulmonary artery into the left auricle and ventricle, which foramen she closes when the newborn creature begins to breathe freely. We can also now understand why, when the vessels of the lungs become congested and oppressed, and in those who are affected with serious diseases, it should be so dangerous and fatal a symptom when the respiratory organs become implicated.

We perceive further, why the blood is so florid in the lungs, which is, because it is thinner, as having there to undergo filtration.

Still further; from the summary which precedes, and by way of satisfying those who are importunate in regard to the causes of the circulation, and incline to regard the power of the heart as competent to everything—as that it is not only the seat and source of the pulse which propels the blood, but also, as Aristotle thinks, of the power which attracts and produces it; moreover, that the spirits are engendered by the heart, and the influxive vital heat, in virtue of the innate heat of the heart, as the immediate instrument of the soul, or common bond and prime organ in the performance of every act of vitality; in a word, that the motion, perfection, heat, and every property besides of the blood and spirits are derived from the heart, as their fountain or original, (a doctrine as old as Aristotle, who maintained all these qualities to inhere in the blood, as heat inheres in boiling water or pottage,) and that the heart is the primary cause of pulsation and life; to those persons, did I speak openly, I should say that I do not agree with the common opinion; there are numerous particulars to be noted in the production of the parts of the body which incline me this way, but which it does not seem expedient to enter upon here. Before long, perhaps, I shall have occasion to lay before the world things that are more wonderful than these, and that are calculated to throw still greater light upon natural philosophy.

Meantime I shall only say, and, without pretending to demonstrate it, propound—with the good leave of our learned men, and with all respect for antiquity—that the heart, with the veins and arteries and the blood they contain, is to be regarded as the beginning and author, the fountain and original of all things in the body, the primary cause of life; and this in the same acceptation as the brain with its nerves, organs of sense and spinal marrow inclusive, is spoken of as the one and general organ of sensation. But if by the word heart the mere body of the heart, made up of its auricles and ventricles, be understood, then I do not believe that the heart is the fashioner of the blood; neither do I imagine that the blood has powers, properties, motion, or heat, as the gift of the heart; lastly, neither do I admit that the cause of the systole and contraction is the same as that of the diastole or dilatation, whether in the arteries, auricles, or ventricles; for I hold that that part of the pulse which is designated the diastole depends on another cause different from the systole, and that it must always and everywhere precede any systole; I hold that the innate heat is the first cause of dilatation, and that the primary dilatation is in the blood itself, after the manner of bodies in a state of fermentation, gradually attenuated and swelling, and that in the blood is this finally extinguished; I assent to Aristotle's example of gruel or milk upon the fire, to this extent, that the rising and falling of the blood does not depend upon vapours or exhalations, or spirits, or anything rising in a vaporous or aëreal shape, nor upon any external agency, but upon an internal principle under the control of nature.

Nor is the heart, as some imagine, anything like a chauffer or fire, or heated kettle, and so the source of the heat of the blood; the blood, instead of receiving, rather gives heat to the heart, as it does to all the other parts of the body; for the blood is the hottest element in the body; and it is on this account that the heart is furnished with coronary arteries and veins; it is for the same reason that other parts have vessels, viz., to secure the access of warmth for their due conservation and stimulation; so that the warmer any part is, the greater is its supply of blood, or otherwise; where the blood is in largest quantity, there also is the heat highest. For this reason is the heart, remarkable through its cavities, to be viewed as the elaboratory, fountain, and perennial focus of heat, and as comparable to a hot kettle, not because of its proper substance, but because of its contained blood; for the same reason, because they have numerous veins or vessels containing blood, are the liver, spleen, lungs, &c., reputed hot parts. And in this way do I view the native or innate heat as the common instrument of every function, the prime cause of the pulse among the rest. This, however, I do not mean to state absolutely, but only propose it by way of thesis. Whatever may be objected to it by good and learned men, without abusive or contemptuous language, I shall be ready to listen to—I shall even be most grateful to any one who will take up and discuss the subject.

These then, are, as it were, the very elements and indications of the passage and circulation of the blood, viz., from the right auricle into the right ventricle; from the right ventricle by the way of the lungs into the left auricle; thence into the left ventricle and aorta; whence by the arteries at large through the pores or interstices of the tissues into the veins, and by the veins back again with great rapidity to the base of the heart.

There is an experiment on the veins by which any one that chooses may convince himself of this truth: Let the arm be bound with a moderately tight bandage, and then, by opening and shutting the hand, make all the veins to swell as much as possible, and the integuments below the fillet to become red; and now let the arm and hand be plunged into very cold water, or snow, until the blood pent up in the veins shall have become cooled down; then let the fillet be undone suddenly, and you will perceive, by the cold blood returning to the heart, with what celerity the current flows, and what an effect it produces when it has reached the heart; so that you will no longer be surprised that some should faint when the fillet is undone after venesection.[8] This experiment shows that the veins swell below the ligature not with attenuated blood, or with blood raised by spirits or vapours, for the immersion in the cold water would repress their ebullition, but with blood only, and such as could never make its way back into the arteries, either by open-mouthed communications or by devious passages; it shows, moreover, how and in what way those who are travelling over snowy mountains are sometimes stricken suddenly with death, and other things of the same kind.

Lest it should seem difficult for the blood to make its way through the pores of the various structures of the body, I shall add one illustration: The same thing happens in the bodies of those that are hanged or strangled, as in the arm that is bound with a fillet: all the parts beyond the noose,—the face, lips, tongue, eyes, and every part of the head appear gorged with blood, swollen and of a deep red or livid colour; but if the noose be relaxed, in whatever position you have the body, before many hours have passed you will perceive the whole of the blood to have quitted the head and face, and gravitated through the pores of the skin, flesh, and other structures, from the superior parts towards those that are inferior and dependent, until they become tumid and of a dark colour. But if this happens in the dead body, with the blood dead and coagulated, the frame stiffened with the chill of death, the passages all compressed or blocked up, it is easy to perceive how much more apt it will be to occur in the living subject, when the blood is alive and replete with spirits, when the pores are all open, the fluid ready to penetrate, and the passage in every way made easy.

When the ingenious and acute Descartes, (whose honourable mention of my name demands my acknowledgments,) and others, having taken out the heart of a fish, and put it on a plate before them, see it continuing to pulsate (in contracting), and when it raises or erects itself and becomes firm to the touch, they think it enlarges, expands, and that its ventricles thence become more capacious. But, in my opinion, they do not observe correctly; for, at the time the heart gathers itself up, and becomes erect, it is certain that it is rather lessened in every one of its dimensions; that it is in its systole, in short, not in its diastole. Neither, on the contrary, when it collapses and sinks down, is it then properly in its state of diastole and distension, by which the ventricles become more capacious. But as we do not say that the heart is in the state of diastole in the dead body, as having sunk relaxed after the systole, but is then collapsed, and without all motion—in short is in a state of rest, and not distended. It is only truly distended, and in the proper state of diastole, when it is filled by the charge of blood projected into it by the contraction of the auricles; a fact which sufficiently appears in the course of vivisections. Descartes therefore does not perceive how much the relaxation and subsidence of the heart and arteries differ from their distension or diastole; and that the cause of the distension, relaxation, and constriction, is not one and the same; as contrary effects so must they rather acknowledge contrary causes; as different movements they must have different motors; just as all anatomists know that the flexion and extension of an extremity are accomplished by opposite antagonist muscles, and contrary or diverse motions are necessarily performed by contrary and diverse organs instituted by nature for the purpose. Neither do I find the efficient cause of the pulse aptly explained by this philosopher, when with Aristotle he assumes the cause of the systole to be the same as that of the diastole, viz., an effervescence of the blood due to a kind of ebullition. For the pulse is a succession of sudden strokes and quick percussions; but we know of no kind of fermentation or ebullition in which the matter rises and falls in the twinkling of an eye; the heaving is always gradual where the subsidence is notable. Besides, in the body of a living animal laid open, we can with our eyes perceive the ventricles of the heart both charged and distended by the contraction of the auricles, and more or less increased in size according to the charge; and farther, we can see that the distension of the heart is rather a violent motion, the effect of an impulsion, and not performed by any kind of attraction.

Some are of opinion that, as no kind of impulse of the nutritive juices is required in vegetables, but that these are attracted by the parts which require them, and flow in to take the place of what has been lost; so neither is there any necessity for an impulse in animals, the vegetative faculty in both working alike. But there is a difference between plants and animals. In animals, a constant supply of warmth is required to cherish the members, to maintain them in life by the vivifying heat, and to restore parts injured from without. It is not merely nutrition that has to be provided for.

So much for the circulation; any impediment, or perversion, or excessive excitement of which, is followed by a host of dangerous diseases and remarkable symptoms: in connexion with the veins—varices, abscesses, pains, hemorrhoids, hemorrhages; in connexion with the arteries—enlargements, phlegmons, severe and lancinating pains, aneurisms, sarcoses, fluxions, sudden attacks of suffocation, asthmas, stupors, apoplexies, and innumerable other affections. But this is not the place to enter on the consideration of these; neither may I say under what circumstances and how speedily some of these diseases, that are even reputed incurable, are remedied and dispelled, as if by enchantment. I shall have much to put forth in my Medical Observations and Pathology, which, so far as I know, has as yet been observed by no one.

That I may afford you still more ample satisfaction, most learned Riolanus, as you do not think there is a circulation in the vessels of the mesentery, I shall conclude by proposing the following experiment: throw a ligature around the porta close to the liver, in a living animal, which is easily done. You will forthwith perceive the veins below the ligature swelling in the same way as those of the arm when the bleeding fillet is bound above the elbow; a circumstance which will proclaim the course of the blood there. And as you still seem to think that the blood can regurgitate from the veins into the arteries by open anastomoses, let the vena cava be tied in a living animal near the divarication of the crural veins, and immediately afterwards let an artery be opened to give issue to the blood: you will soon observe the whole of the blood discharged from all the veins, that of the ascending cava among the number, with the single exception of the crural veins, which will continue full; and this certainly could not happen were there any retrograde passage for the blood from the veins to the arteries by open anastomoses.

  1. [To those who hesitated to visit him in his kiln or bakehouse (᾽ιππω, which some have said should be (᾽ιπνω, rendered a dunghill) Heraclitus addressed the words in the text. Aristotle, who quotes them, has been defending the study of the lower animals.—Ed.]
  2. Vide Chapter III, of the Disquisition on the Motion of the Heart and Blood.
  3. Vide Chapter XIV.
  4. De Generat. Animal, lib. iii, cap. x.
  5. Vide Chapter VI, of the Disq. on the Motion of the Heart and Blood.
  6. Vide Chapter III, on the Motion of the Heart and Blood.
  7. Vide Chapter III, on the Motion of the Heart and Blood.
  8. Vide Chapter XI, of the Motion of the Heart, &c.