SECTION I.

[Illustration: BICHAT. X

_Published by Richardson & Lord, Boston._]

GENERAL ANATOMY,

APPLIED TO

PHYSIOLOGY AND MEDICINE;

BY XAVIER BICHAT,

PHYSICIAN OF THE GREAT HOSPITAL OF HUMANITY AT PARIS, AND

PROFESSOR OF ANATOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY.

Translated from the French.

BY GEORGE HAYWARD, M.D.

FELLOW OF THE AMERICAN ACADEMY OF ARTS AND SCIENCES,

AND OF THE MASSACHUSETTS MEDICAL SOCIETY.

_IN THREE VOLUMES._

VOLUME I.

_BOSTON_:

PUBLISHED BY RICHARDSON AND LORD.

J. H. A. FROST, PRINTER.

1822.

DISTRICT OF MASSACHUSETTS, _to wit_:

DISTRICT CLERK'S OFFICE.

Be it remembered, that on the seventeenth day of April, A. D. 1822,

in the forty-sixth year of the Independence of the United States of

America, _Richardson & Lord_, of the said District, have deposited

in this office the title of a book, the right whereof they claim as

proprietors, in the words following, _to wit_:

"General Anatomy, applied to Physiology and Medicine; by Xavier Bichat,

Physician of the Great Hospital of Humanity at Paris, and Professor of

Anatomy and Physiology. Translated from the French, by George Hayward,

M. D. Fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, and of the

Massachusetts Medical Society. In three Volumes. Volume I."

In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States,

entitled, "An Act for the Encouragement of Learning, by securing the

Copies of Maps, Charts and Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of

such Copies, during the times therein mentioned:" and also to an Act

entitled, "An Act supplementary to an Act, entitled, An Act for the

encouragement of Learning, by securing the Copies of Maps, Charts and

Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such Copies during the times

therein mentioned; and extending the Benefits thereof to the Arts of

Designing, Engraving and Etching Historical and other Prints."

JOHN W. DAVIS,

_Clerk of the District of Massachusetts_.

PREFACE BY THE TRANSLATOR.

I commenced the present translation while pursuing the study of

medicine in Paris in the winter of 1813-14. It was then my intention

to have completed and published it immediately upon my return to the

United States; but I learnt in England in the spring following, that

a translation of this work was about to appear from the London press.

This information induced me to abandon my undertaking, but after

waiting more than six years for the appearance of the English edition,

and finding from letters received from London, that there was but

little if any expectation of its being published there at all, I was

led to pursue my original plan and complete the translation which I

now offer to the public. In doing this, I was influenced more by the

intrinsic value of Bichat's work than by any and every other motive. I

was unwilling that so many of my professional brethren should be any

longer denied access to this admirable production, because it was in

a foreign language, and though I could have wished that another had

undertaken the task, yet I was resolved to go through the labour rather

than it should not be performed at all.

Some of the writings of Bichat are so well known and so justly

appreciated in this country, that it is perhaps unnecessary for

me to speak of his merits as an author, or offer an apology for

translating the present work. Every thing which he gave to the public

bore unequivocal proofs of being the production of a mind of the most

original and powerful cast, and it is impossible to estimate what

the influence of his labours might have been upon medical science if

a longer career had been permitted to him. As it was, he accomplished

much, and as his writings are more known, their influence will be more

sensibly felt. His manner of investigating physiological subjects was

characteristic of his strong and original mind, and it is difficult

to determine which is the most admirable, his acute and accurate

reasoning, or his ingenious and well conducted experiments. Nor were

these experiments the result of preconceived opinions, he seems to

have brought his mind perfectly unbiassed to every subject that he

investigated, and to have been guided in every instance by the most

rigorous laws of induction. To these high qualifications he added

great perspicuity in his arrangement, remarkable purity and beauty of

style, and an extensive knowledge of disease, which enabled him to

enrich his work with much valuable practical information. It is not

pretended, but that his experiments upon living animals may have in

some few cases led him to erroneous conclusions, but how numerous were

the instances in which he obtained from them the most satisfactory and

important information. It has, I know, become fashionable of late to

undervalue these experiments, and to deny that any useful application

can be made of them. It is no doubt true, that the sufferings which

animals sometimes undergo in these experiments, are such as to destroy

entirely the order and regularity of all the functions, and of course

to prevent us from determining any thing as to these functions in

health. This probably was the case with some of the experiments of

Magendie on vomiting, and Legallois on the principle of life; but let

us not condemn this mode of investigation because it has been sometimes

injudiciously employed, let us not forget that the argument is wholly

directed against the abuse of it, and that these experiments have

already led to some practical consequences of immense value. Would the

carotid artery have ever been tied in a living human subject, if it had

not been first ascertained that it could be done with safety in animals?

In translating this work, I have studiously endeavoured to give with

precision the meaning of the author, and have, I fear, by this means

frequently employed French idiomatic expressions. From the great

originality of many parts of the General Anatomy, Bichat found it

necessary in some instances to employ new terms, to which there were

no corresponding words in our language; in such cases, I have either

made use of several, or adopted the term, as one or the other seemed

best calculated to render the meaning more clear and exact. A few notes

only have been given, and these for the most part for the purpose of

explaining what was obscure, rather than of controverting any thing

contained in the original. Upon the whole, I trust that this work will

be a valuable acquisition to our stock of medical literature, and I

shall feel as if my labour has not been in vain, if I shall have been

the means of making my countrymen better acquainted with the writings

of its illustrious author.

_Boston, April, 1822._

PREFACE BY THE AUTHOR.

The work which I now offer to the public, will appear to them new,

I trust, in three points of view; 1st, in the _plan_ that has been

adopted; 2d, in most of the _facts_ which it contains; and 3d, in the

_principles_ which constitute its doctrine.

1st. The _plan_ consists in considering separately and presenting with

all their attributes, each of the simple systems, which, by their

different combinations, form our organs. The basis of this plan is

anatomical, but the details that it embraces belong also to medicine

and physiology. It has nothing in common, but the name, with what has

been lately advanced upon the anatomy of systems; my Treatise on the

Membranes alone gives an outline of it.

2d. The _facts_ and observations in this work, in addition to what

is already known, form a very numerous series. I shall not give an

analysis of them; the reader will supply it, how little soever he may

know of works on Anatomy and Physiology. Experiments on living animals,

trials with different reagents on organized textures,[1] dissection,

examinations after death, observations upon man in health and disease,

these are sources whence I have drawn them, and they are the sources

of nature. I have not, however, neglected authors, those especially

who make the science of the animal economy a science of facts and

experiments.

[1] I have in this and every other instance translated the French

word _tissu_ by the English word _texture_. I know many writers have

adopted the French term, but I think it unnecessary, to say the least,

to employ a foreign word, when one of our own language can be used

with quite as much precision. _Tr._

I will make but one remark upon the experiments contained in this work;

amongst them will be found a series upon the simple textures, which

I subjected successively to desiccation, putrefaction, maceration,

ebullition, stewing, and to the action of the acids and the alkalies.

It will be easily seen, that it was not the object of these experiments

to determine the composition, or ascertain the different elements, and

consequently give a chemical analysis of simple textures; for this

purpose they would have been insufficient; but their object was to

establish the distinctive characters of these simple textures, to show

that each has a peculiar organization, as each has a peculiar life, and

to prove by the different results which they gave, that the division

which I have adopted is not speculative, but that it rests upon the

diversity of their intimate structure. The different re-agents, which

I used, were only to assist me where the scalpel was insufficient, and

on this account, therefore, I presume these experiments will have some

influence upon Anatomy.

3d. The general _doctrine_ of this work has not precisely the character

of any of those which have prevailed in medicine. Opposed to that of

Boerhaave, it differs from that of Stahl and those authors who, like

him, refer every thing in the living economy, to a single principle,

purely speculative, ideal, and imaginary, whether designated by the

name of _soul_, _vital principle_, or _archeus_. The general doctrine

of this work consists in analyzing with precision the properties

of living bodies, in showing that every physiological phenomenon

is ultimately referable to these properties considered in their

natural state; that every pathological phenomenon derives from them

augmentation, diminution, or alteration; that every therapeutic

phenomenon has for its principle the restoration of the part to the

natural type, from which it has been changed; in determining with

precision the cases in which each property is brought into action;

in distinguishing accurately in physiology as well as in medicine,

that which is derived from one, and that which flows from others; in

ascertaining by rigorous induction the natural and morbific phenomena

which the animal properties produce, and those which are derived

from the organic; and in pointing out when the animal sensibility

and contractility are brought into action, and when the organic

sensibility and the sensible or insensible contractility. We shall be

easily convinced upon reflection, that we cannot precisely estimate

the immense influence of the vital properties in the physiological

sciences, before we have considered these properties in the point of

view in which I have presented them. It will be said, perhaps, that

this manner of viewing them is still a theory; I will answer, that it

is a theory like that which shows in the physical sciences, gravity,

elasticity, affinity, &c. as the primitive principles of the facts

observed in these sciences. The relation of these properties as causes

to the phenomena as effects, is an axiom so well known in physics,

chemistry, astronomy, &c. at the present day, that it is unnecessary

to repeat it. If this work establishes an analogous axiom in the

physiological sciences, its object will be attained.

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS.

There are in nature two classes of beings, two classes of properties,

and two classes of sciences. The beings are either organic or

inorganic, the properties vital or non-vital, and the sciences

physiological or physical. Animals and vegetables are organic—minerals

are inorganic. Sensibility and contractility are vital properties;

gravity, elasticity, affinity, &c. are non-vital properties. Animal and

vegetable physiology, and medicine form the physiological sciences;

astronomy, physics, chemistry, &c. are the physical sciences. These two

classes of sciences have relation only to different phenomena; there

are two other classes that correspond to these, which relate to the

internal and external forms of bodies and their description. Botany,

anatomy, and zoology, are the sciences of organic bodies; mineralogy,

&c. of the inorganic. The first will occupy us, and we shall fix our

attention especially upon the relations of living bodies with one

another, and their relations with those that do not live.

I. _General remarks upon physiological and physical sciences._

The differences between these sciences are derived essentially from

those existing between the properties that preside over the phenomena,

which are the object of each class of sciences. So immense is the

influence of these properties, that they are the principle of all

phenomena; whether we examine those of astronomy, of hydraulics, of

dynamics, of optics, of acoustics, &c. we shall finally arrive by a

connexion of causes to gravity, to elasticity, &c. as the end of our

researches. So the vital property is the primum mobile to which we must

ascend, whether we consider the phenomena of respiration, of digestion,

of secretion, circulation, inflammation, fevers, &c.—In giving

existence to every body, nature has imprinted upon it a certain number

of properties, that particularly characterize it, and by means of

which it contributes in its own manner, to all the phenomena that are

developed, succeed, and continually connect themselves in the universe.

Cast your eyes upon that which surrounds you; turn them upon objects

the most distant; whether, aided by the telescope, they examine those

that swim in space, or, armed with the microscope, they enter the world

of those, whose minuteness almost evades our view, every where you will

find on one side physical properties, on the other vital properties,

brought into action; every where you will see inert bodies gravitating

upon each other, and reciprocally attracting; living bodies gravitate

also, but above all they feel, and possess a motion which they owe only

to themselves.

These properties are so inherent in bodies, that we cannot conceive of

their existence without them. They constitute their essence and their

attribute. To exist and to enjoy them are two things inseparable.

Suppose that of a sudden they are deprived of them; instantly all the

phenomena of nature cease, and matter alone exists. Chaos was only

matter without properties; to create the universe, God endowed it with

gravity, elasticity, affinity, &c. and to a part he gave sensibility

and contractility.

This mode of considering the vital and physical properties,

sufficiently shews, that we cannot ascend above them in our

explanations, that they afford the principles, and that these

explanations are to be deduced from them as consequences. The physical

sciences, as well as the physiological, then, are composed of two

things; 1st. the study of phenomena, which are effects; 2d. the

research into the connexions that exist between them and the physical

or vital properties, which are the causes.

For a long time these sciences have not been so considered; every fact

that was observed, was made the subject of a particular hypothesis.

Newton was the first to remark, that however variable the physical

phenomena were, they could all be referred to a certain number of

principles. He analyzed these principles and found that attraction

enjoyed the most important place among them. Attracted by each other

and by their sun, the planets describe their eternal courses; attracted

to the centre of our system, the waters, air, stones, &c. move or tend

to move towards it: it is truly a sublime idea, and one that serves as

the basis to all the physical sciences. Let us render homage to Newton;

he was the first who discovered the secret of the Creator, viz. A

simplicity of causes reconciled with a multiplicity of effects.

The epoch of this great man was the most remarkable of human wisdom.

Since that period, we have had principles from which we draw facts as

consequences. This epoch, so advantageous to the physical sciences,

was nothing to the physiological; what do I say? it retarded their

progress. Mankind soon saw nothing but attraction and impulse in the

vital phenomena.

Boerhaave, though brilliant in genius, suffered himself to be dazzled

by a system which misled all the men of learning of his age, and which

made a revolution in the physiological sciences, that may be compared

to that effected in the physical, by the vortices of Descartes. The

plausibility of the theory and the celebrated name of its author, gave

to this revolution an empire, which, though rotten in its foundation,

was not easily overthrown.

Stahl, less brilliant than profound, rich in the means that convince,

though deficient in those that please, formed for the physiological

sciences an epoch more worthy of notice than that of Boerhaave. He

perceived the discordance between the physical laws and the functions

of animals; this was the first step towards the discovery of the vital

laws, but he did not discover them. The soul was to him every thing in

the phenomena of life; it was much to neglect attraction and impulse.

Stahl perceived that these were not true, but the truth escaped him.

Many authors, following his steps, have referred to a single principle,

differently denominated by each, all the vital phenomena. This, called

the vital principle by Barthez, archeus by Van Helmont, &c. is a

speculation that has no more reality than that which would refer to

a single principle all the physical phenomena. Among these we know

that some are derived from gravity, some from elasticity, others from

affinity, &c. The same in the living economy, some are derived from

sensibility, others from contractility.

Unknown to the ancients, the laws of life have begun to be understood

during the last age only. Stahl had already remarked the tonic

motions, but he did not generalize their influence. Haller was engaged

particularly with sensibility and irritability; but in limiting one to

the nervous system, and the other to the muscular, this great man did

not consider them in the correct point of view; he made them almost

insulated properties. Vicq d'Azyr changed them into functions in his

physiological division and ranked them with ossification, digestion,

&c. that is, he confounded the principle with the consequence. Thus you

see, notwithstanding the labours of a crowd of learned men, how much

the physiological sciences still differ from the physical. In these,

the chemist refers all the phenomena that he observes to affinity:

the natural philosopher, in his science, every where sees gravity,

elasticity, &c. In the others, we have not as yet ascended, at least

in a general manner, from the phenomena to the properties from which

they are derived. Digestion, circulation, or the sensations, do not

bring the idea of sensibility or contractility to the mind of the

physiologist, as the movement of a watch proves to the mechanician

that elasticity is the primum mobile of its motion; or as the wheel of

a mill or of any machine, which running water sets in motion, proves

to the natural philosopher that gravity is the cause. To place upon

the same level in this respect these two classes of sciences, it is

evidently necessary to form a just idea of vital properties. If their

limits are not accurately assigned, we cannot with precision analyze

their influence. I shall present here only general considerations on

this point, which has been treated sufficiently in my Researches upon

Life; what I shall add now will be but as a supplement to what has been

explained in that work.

II. _Of vital properties, and their influence upon all the phenomena of

the physiological sciences._

To assign the limits of these properties, we must follow them from

bodies that are hardly developed, to those which are the most perfect.

In the plants that seem to form the transition from vegetables to

animals, you discover only an internal motion that is scarcely real;

their growth is as much by the affinity of particles and consequently

by juxta-position, as by a true nutrition. But in ascending to

vegetables better organized, you see them continually pervaded by

fluids, that circulate in numerous capillary canals, which mount,

descend, and run in a thousand different directions, according to

the state of the forces that regulate them. This continual motion

of fluids is foreign to the physical properties, the vital ones only

direct it. Nature has endowed every portion of a vegetable with a

faculty of feeling the impression of fluids, with which their fibres

are in contact, and of reacting upon them in an insensible manner,

to favour their course. The first of these faculties I call organic

sensibility, the other, insensible organic contractility. This is very

obscure in most vegetables; it is the same in the bones of animals.

These two properties govern not only the vegetable circulations, which

correspond in some measure to the capillary system of animals, but

also the secretion, absorption, and exhalation of vegetables. Remark,

in fine, that these bodies have only functions relative to their

properties; that all the phenomena that animals derive from properties

which they have more than vegetables, as the great circulation and

digestion, for which there must be sensible organic contractility;

as the sensations, for which there must be animal sensibility;

and locomotion, the voice, &c. for which animal contractility is

necessary; remark, I say, that these functions are essentially foreign

to vegetables, since they have not vital properties to place them in

action.

For the same reason the catalogue of their diseases is less extensive.

They have not the class of nervous diseases, in which the animal

sensibility takes so great a part; they have not those of convulsions

or paralysis, which are formed by an augmented or diminished animal

contractility; they have not those of fevers, or gastric diseases,

which evidently arise from a disorder in the sensible organic

contractility. The diseases of vegetables are tumours of various kinds,

increased exhalations, marasmus, &c.; they all indicate a derangement

in the organic sensibility and in the corresponding insensible

contractility.

If we pass from vegetables to animals, we see the lowest of these,

the zoophites, receive into a sac, which is alternately filled and

emptied, the aliments that are to nourish them; we see them begin to

unite sensible organic contractility or irritability to the properties

which they have in common with vegetables, and consequently commence

the performance of different functions, digestion in particular.

Thus far the organized bodies live wholly within themselves; they have

no relation with that which surrounds them; animal life is wanting

in them, or at least if it has commenced in these animo-vegetables,

its rudiments are so obscure that we can hardly discover them. But

this life begins to display itself in the superior classes, in worms,

insects, mollusca, &c. On the one hand, the sensations, and on the

other, locomotion, which is inseparable from them, are more or less

fully developed. Then the vital properties necessary to the exercise of

these new functions, are added to the preceding. Animal sensibility and

contractility, obscure in the lower species, become more perfect, as

we approach quadrupeds, and locomotion and the sensations become also

more extensive. Sensible organic contractility then increases, and in

proportion to that, digestion, circulation of the great vessels, &c.

which are governed by it, receive a development which is constantly

growing more perfect.

If we strictly examine the immense series of living bodies, we shall

see the vital properties gradually augmenting in number and energy,

from the lowest of plants to the first of animals, man; we shall see

the lowest plants obedient to vital and physical properties; all plants

are governed only by these, which, in them, consist of insensible

contractility and organic sensibility; the lowest animals begin to add

sensible organic contractility to these properties, afterwards animal

sensibility and contractility. We know the expression of Linnæus,

which he has used to characterize minerals, vegetables, and animals.

The following would be more correct: 1st. physical properties for

minerals; 2d. physical properties and organic vital properties,

except[2] sensible contractility, for vegetables; 3d. physical

properties, all the organic vital properties, and the animal vital

properties, for animals.

[2] Several plants certainly possess a considerable degree of sensible

organic contractility; the mimosa pudica (sensitive plant) is a

well known example, though there are several others that enjoy this

property to almost as great an extent; particularly the hedysarum

gyrans, the oxalis sensitiva, and the berberis vulgaris. "A very

remarkable degree of irritability, not exceeded by the sensitive

plant, exists in the flowers of the barberry, (berberis vulgaris.)

When these are fully expanded, the stamens are found spread out on

the inside of the corolla. In this situation, if the inside of the

filament be touched with a pin or straw, it instantly contracts and

throws the anther violently against the stigma. This fact, which has

been particularly described by Dr. Smith, in the English barberry,

is not less remarkable and distinct in the American varieties of the

shrub." Bigelow's Florula Bostoniensis. _Tr._

Man and the neighbouring species, which are the particular object of

our researches, enjoy then evidently, all the vital properties, some of

which belong to organic life, the others to animal life. 1st. Organic

sensibility and insensible contractility have all the phenomena of

the capillary circulation, of secretion, of absorption, exhalation,

nutrition, &c. evidently dependant upon them in a state of health.

In treating, therefore, of these functions, we must always ascend to

these properties. In the state of disease, all the phenomena that

suppose a disorder in these functions, are clearly derived from an

injury of these properties. Inflammation, formation of pus, induration,

resolution, hemorrhage, unnatural augmentation or suppression of

secretions; increased exhalation, as in dropsies; diminished, or wholly

wanting, as in adhesions; absorption, disordered in some way or other;

nutrition, altered more or less, or presenting unnatural phenomena,

as in the formation of tumours, cysts, cicatrices, &c.: these are

morbid symptoms, that evidently suppose some injury or disorder in

these two preceding properties. 2d. Sensible organic contractility,

which, like the preceding, is not separated from the sensibility of the

same nature, governs especially in a state of health, the movements

necessary to digestion and the circulation of the great vessels, at

least for the red and black blood of the general system, for the

excretion of urine, &c. In the state of disease, all the phenomena of

vomiting, of diarrhœas, and a great part of those numberless ones of

the pulse, may ultimately be referred to a disorder of the sensible

organic contractility. 3d. All the external sensations, those of

seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and feeling, and the internal, as

those of hunger, thirst, &c. are derived in a state of health from

the animal sensibility. In disease, what part does not this property

perform? Pain and its innumerable modifications, itching, smarting,

tickling, the sensation of heaviness, weight, lassitude, throbbing,

pricking, pulling, &c. &c. are not these only different alterations of

animal sensibility? A hundred different words would not express the

diversity of painful sensations that morbid affections bring with them.

4th. Animal contractility is the principle of locomotion and the voice;

convulsions, spasms, palsies, &c. are derived from an augmentation or

diminution of this property. Examine all the physiological and all the

pathological phenomena, and you will see that there is no one which

cannot be ultimately referred to some one of the properties of which

I have just spoken. The undeniable truth of this assertion, brings us

to a conclusion not less certain in the treatment of diseases, viz.

that every curative method should have for its object the restoration

of the altered vital properties to their natural type. Every remedy,

which, in local inflammation, does not diminish the augmented organic

sensibility; which, in œdema and dropsy, does not increase this

weakened property; and which does not reduce animal contractility in

convulsions, and elevate it in paralysis, fails in its object, and is

contraindicated.

To what errors have not mankind been led in the employment and

denomination of medicines? They created deobstruents, when the theory

of obstruction was in fashion, and incisives, when that of the

thickening of the humours prevailed. The expressions of diluents and

attenuants, and the ideas that are attached to them, were common before

this period. When it was necessary to blunt the acrid particles, they

created inviscants, incrassants, &c. Those who saw in diseases only a

relaxation or tension of the fibres, the _laxum_ and _strictum_ as they

called it, employed astringents and relaxants. Refrigerant and heating

remedies were brought into use by those who had a special regard in

diseases to an excess or a deficiency of caloric. The same identical

remedies have been employed under different names according to the

manner in which they were supposed to act. Deobstruent in one case,

relaxant in another, refrigerant in another, the same medicine has been

employed with all these different and opposite views; so true is it

that the mind of man gropes in the dark, when it is guided only by the

wildness of opinion.

There has not been in the materia medica, a general system; this

science has been governed by the different theories that have

successively predominated in medicine; each has, if I may so express

myself, flowed back upon it. Hence the vagueness and uncertainty

that it presents at this day. An incoherent assemblage of incoherent

opinions, it is perhaps of all the physiological sciences, that

which best shows the caprice of the human mind. What do I say? It is

not a science for a methodical mind, it is a shapeless assemblage

of inaccurate ideas, of observations often puerile, of deceptive

remedies, and of formulæ as fantastically conceived as they are

tediously arranged. It has been said that the practice of medicine was

disgusting; I add further, that it is not in some respects the study

of a reasonable man, when its principles are derived from the greatest

part of the works on the materia medica. Take away those medicines, the

effect of which is known only by accurate observation, as evacuants,

diuretics, sialagogues, anti-spasmodics, &c. those consequently that

act upon a particular function; what knowledge have we of the remainder?

It is, without doubt, extremely difficult at present to class remedies

according to their modus operandi; but it is undeniable that all have

for their object, the restoration of the vital forces to the natural

type, from which they have been driven by disease. Since the morbid

phenomena may be considered as different alterations of these forces,

the action of remedies should also be viewed as the means by which

these alterations are to be brought back to the natural type. Upon this

principle, each of the properties has its class of appropriate remedies.

1st. We have seen that there is in inflammations an increase of organic

sensibility and insensible contractility; diminish then this increase

by cataplasms, fomentations, and local baths. In some dropsies, in

white-swellings, &c. there is a diminution of these properties; raise

them by the application of wine and all those substances that are

called tonics. In every species of inflammation, suppuration, tumours

of different kinds, ulcers, obstructions; in every alteration of

secretion, exhalation, or nutrition, the remedies act peculiarly upon

the insensible contractility, to increase, diminish, or alter it in

some way. All those that are called resolvents, tonics, stimulants,

emollients, &c. act upon this property. Observe, that these remedies

are of two kinds: 1st. general; as wine, ferruginous substances,

oftentimes the acids, &c.; these re-animate insensible contractility,

and give tone to the whole system: 2d. particular; thus this property

is separately excited by nitre in the kidnies, mercury in the salivary

glands, &c.

2d. Many remedies act particularly upon the sensible organic

contractility; such are emetics, which produce a contraction of the

stomach; cathartics, and drastics especially, which create a strong

contraction of the intestines. Art does not excite the heart in the

same manner as these viscera; we do not artificially increase its

movements as we do those of the stomach in gastric diseases. It will,

perhaps, hereafter be attempted, especially if it is true that fever

may often be a method of cure, and then it will not, I think, be

difficult to find the means of effecting it. At other times, we have

to diminish sensible organic contractility, and then remedies are

employed that act in a manner opposite to the preceding, as in stopping

vomitings, in diminishing intestinal irritation, &c.

3d. Animal sensibility has also remedies that are peculiar to it.

But they act in two ways—1st. in diminishing pain in the part where

it is seated, as different applications upon tumours, obstructions,

&c.: 2d. in acting upon the brain that perceives the pain; thus all

narcotic preparations, taken internally, remove the sensation of pain,

while the cause still subsists. In cancer of an ulcerated uterus, the

disease continues its progress with activity, but the prudent physician

stupifies the brain so much, that it is incapable of perceiving it. It

is essential to distinguish accurately these two actions of remedies

upon the animal sensibility. They are totally different from each other.

4th. Medicinal substances have also their influence on animal

contractility. Every thing that produces an active excitement on the

external surface of the body, as vesicatories, frictions, smarting,

&c. tends to re-animate in paralysis this benumbed faculty. All those

substances that paralyze the cerebral action, prevent the brain from

governing the muscles of animal life; when these muscles, therefore,

are convulsively agitated, these substances are true anti-spasmodics.

In presenting these observations, I do not mean to offer a new plan

for the materia medica. Medicines are too complicated in their action

to be arranged anew, without more reflection than I profess as yet to

have bestowed on the subject. Moreover, an inconvenience common to

every classification, would here present itself: the same medicine

acts often upon many vital properties. An emetic, while it brings into

action the sensible organic contractility of the stomach, excites the

insensible contractility of the mucous glands, and oftentimes the

animal sensibility of the nervous villi. The same observation may be

made with regard to the stimulants of the bladder, of the intestines,

&c. My only object is to show, that in the action of substances applied

to the body to heal it, as in the phenomena of diseases, every thing

must be referred to the vital properties, and that their augmentation,

diminution, or alteration, are ultimately the invariable object of our

curative method.

Some authors have considered diseases only as increased strength

or weakness, and have consequently divided medicines into tonics

and debilitants. This idea is true in part, but it is false when we

generalize it too much. For every vital force there are means proper

to raise it when too much diminished, and to lessen it when too much

elevated. But tonics and debilitants are certainly not applicable to

every case. You would not weaken animal contractility, augmented in

convulsions, as you would insensible organic contractility increased

in inflammation; neither would you increase them by the same means.

The morbid phenomena that organic contractility and animal sensibility

experience, are not cured by the same method. There are medicines

proper for each vital force. Moreover, it is not only in increase or

diminution that the vital forces err, but they are besides disordered;

the different modifications that insensible contractility and organic

sensibility can undergo, produce in wounds and ulcers a diversity of

suppuration, in glands a diversity of secretion, in exhaling surfaces

a diversity of exhalations, &c. It is necessary, therefore, that

medicines should not only diminish or increase each of the vital

forces, but that they should moreover restore them to the natural

modification from which they have been altered.

What I have just said is particularly applicable to the strictum and

laxum of many authors, who every where see but these two things.

The strictum may be properly applied to inflammation, the laxum to

dropsies, &c.; but what have these two states of the organs in common

with convulsions, with disorder of the intellect, with epilepsy, with

bilious affections, &c.? It is the peculiarity of those who have a

general theory in medicine, to endeavour to bend every phenomenon to

it. The fault of generalizing too much, has been perhaps more injurious

to science, than that of viewing each phenomenon separately.

These observations are, I think, sufficient to show, that every where

in the physiological sciences, in the physiology of vegetables and

of animals, in pathology, in therapeutics, &c. there are vital laws,

that govern the phenomena which are the object of these sciences; and

that there is not one of these phenomena that does not flow from these

essential and fundamental laws, as from its source.

If I should take a survey of all the divisions of physical sciences,

you would see that the physical laws were ultimately the sole principle

of all their phenomena; but this is so well known that it is not

necessary to do it. I will consider an important subject, and one to

which we are naturally led by the preceding observations. I mean, a

parallel between physical and vital phenomena, and consequently between

physical and physiological sciences.

III. _Characteristics of the vital properties, compared with those of

the physical._

When we consider, on one side, the phenomena which are the object

of the physical sciences, and those that are the object of the

physiological, we see how immense is the space that separates their

nature and their essence. But this difference arises from that which

exists between the laws of the one and the other.

Physical laws are constant and invariable; they are subject neither

to augmentation or diminution. A stone does not gravitate towards the

earth with more force at one time than another; in every case marble

has the same elasticity, &c. On the other hand, at every instant,

sensibility and contractility are increased, diminished, or altered;

they are scarcely ever the same.

It follows, therefore, that the physical phenomena are never variable,

that at all periods and under every influence they are the same; they

can, consequently, be foreseen, predicted, and calculated. We calculate

the fall of a heavy body, the motion of the planets, the course of a

river, the ascension of a projectile, &c.: the rule being once found,

it is only necessary to make the application to each particular case.

Thus heavy bodies fall always in a series of odd numbers; attraction is

in the inverse ratio of the square of the distances, &c. On the other

hand all the vital functions are susceptible of numerous variations.

They are frequently out of their natural state; they defy every kind

of calculation, for it would be necessary to have as many rules as

there are different cases. It is impossible to foresee, predict, or

calculate, any thing with regard to their phenomena; we have only

approximations towards them, and even these are often very uncertain.

There are two things in the phenomena of life, 1st. the state of

health; 2d. that of disease; hence there are two distinct sciences;

physiology considers the phenomena of the first state, pathology

those of the second. The history of the phenomena in which the vital

forces have their natural type, leads us to consider as a consequence,

those phenomena that take place when these forces are altered. But in

the physical sciences there is only the first history; the second is

never found. Physiology is to the movements of living bodies, what

astronomy, dynamics, hydraulics, hydrostatics, &c. are to those of

inert ones; but these last have no such correspondent sciences as

pathology. There is nothing in the physical sciences that corresponds

to therapeutics in the physiological. For the same reason, every idea

of medicament is absurd in the physical sciences. The object of a

medicament is the restoration of properties to their natural type; but,

the physical properties, never losing this type, have of course no need

of restoration.

We see then that the peculiar instability of the character of the

vital laws is the source of an immense series of phenomena, which

form a peculiar order of sciences. What would become of the universe,

if the physical laws were subject to the same commotions and the

same variations as the vital? Much has been said of the revolutions

of the globe, of the changes that the earth has undergone, of the

overthrows that ages have gradually brought about, and upon which ages

have accumulated without producing others: but you would see these

overthrows and these general commotions in nature at every instant, if

the physical properties had the same character as the vital.

For the same reason, that the phenomena and laws of the physical

and physiological sciences are unlike, the sciences themselves are

essentially different. The manner of presenting the facts and of

prying into their causes, the experimental art, &c. every thing bears

a different stamp; and it is absurd to confound them. As the physical

sciences were perfected before the physiological, mankind thought

that they could illustrate the latter by connecting them with the

former; but they have confused them; and this was inevitable, for the

application of the physical sciences to physiology, was the explication

of the phenomena of living bodies by the laws of the inert. Here then

is a false principle, and all the consequences drawn from it must be

erroneous. Let us leave to chemistry its affinity, and to physics

its elasticity and gravity, and let us employ in physiology only

sensibility and contractility; I except, however, those cases where the

same organ becomes the seat of vital and physical phenomena, as the

eye and the ear, for example. It is on this account, that the general

character of this work is wholly different from those on physiology,

and even that of the celebrated Haller. The works of Stahl illustrate

well the advantage of neglecting all those pretended accessory aids,

which overthrow the science in attempting to support it. But as this

great physician had not analyzed the vital properties, he could not

present their phenomena in their true point of view. Nothing is more

vague and indefinite than the words, _vitality_, _vital action_, _vital

influx_, &c. when we do not precisely limit their meaning. Suppose

that mankind had created some general and vague words, which were to

correspond to all the non-vital properties, and which gave no precise

or definite ideas; if you were every where to use these terms, if you

did not determine that which belonged to gravity, that which depended

on affinity, and that which was the result of elasticity, you would

never be understood. Let us say as much in regard to the physiological

sciences. The art is much indebted to many physicians of Montpellier

for having deserted the theory of Boerhaave, and having followed in

preference that given by Stahl. But in leaving a bad path, they have

taken another so tortuous, that they will never, I think, find its

termination.

Ordinary minds, in reading, stop at insulated facts that are presented;

they do not embrace, at one view, the principles of the work.

Oftentimes the author himself incautiously follows the impression given

to a science in the age in which he writes. But the man of genius every

where pauses at this impression, which should be henceforth entirely

different in physical and physiological works. It is necessary to use

a different language; for most of the words that are carried from the

physical into the physiological sciences, continually refer to ideas

that have no connexion with them. You see the living solids constantly

undergoing composition and decomposition, every moment taking and

rejecting new substances; on the other hand, inert bodies remain the

same, and keep the same constituent principles, until friction and

other causes destroy them. So in the elements of inert bodies, there is

a constant uniformity, and an invariable identity in their principles,

which is known when they have been once analyzed; whilst the principles

of the living fluids are so continually changing, that it is necessary

that many analyses should be made, under every possible circumstance.

We shall see the glands and exhaling surfaces pour out, according to

the degree of their vital forces, a great variety of modifications

of the same fluid; what do I say? they pour out a variety of fluids

really different; for are not the sweat and the urine poured out under

one circumstance, and the sweat and the urine under another, two

distinct fluids? There are a thousand examples that would incontestably

establish this assertion.

It is the nature of vital properties to exhaust themselves; time wastes

them. Elevated in the commencement of life, they remain stationary

at the adult age, and afterwards are debilitated and become nothing.

Prometheus, it is said, having formed some statues of men, snatched

fire from heaven to animate them. This fire is the emblem of the vital

properties; while it burns, life is supported; when it is extinguished,

it ceases. It is, then, a part of the essence of these properties, to

animate matter for a determinate time only; hence there are necessary

limits to life. On the other hand, the physical properties, constantly

inherent in matter, never abandon it; so that inert bodies have no

limits to their existence, but what accident gives to them.

By nutrition the particles of the matter of inanimate bodies pass into

living bodies, and vice versa; and we can evidently conceive that this

matter has been endowed through an immense series of ages with physical

properties. These properties are given to it at the creation, and will

leave it only when the world shall end. This matter, in passing into

living bodies, in the space that separates these two epochs, a space

that immensity only can bound, this matter, I say, becomes possessed,

at intervals, of vital properties, which are then united to physical

properties. Here, then, is a great difference in matter, with regard to

these two kinds of properties; one it enjoys by intermissions only, the

other it possesses constantly.

I could add many other considerations, that would still further

establish the difference between the physical and vital laws, and

consequently between the physical and vital phenomena, and as a

consequence from these, the difference of the general character and

methods of the physical and physiological sciences. I could show, that

inert bodies are formed at hazard, by juxta-position or a combination

of their particles, while living bodies, on the contrary, exist in

consequence of a certain function, viz. generation; that the first

increase in the same manner as they are formed, by juxta-position or

the combination of new particles; the others by an internal movement

of assimilation, which requires different preliminary functions;

these constantly experiencing composition and decomposition; those

remaining always internally in the same condition, undergo no other

modifications than such as are derived from chance and the physical

laws. The existence of inert bodies ceases as it commenced, by

mechanical laws, by friction, or by new combinations; living bodies

afford in their natural destruction, a phenomenon as uniform as in

their production; they pass suddenly to a new state when life abandons

them, and undergo putrefaction, desiccation, &c. which they did not

before, because the physical properties being restrained by the vital,

could not produce these phenomena; inert bodies, on the other hand,

always preserve the same modifications. Though a stone or a metal, when

broken or dissolved, ceases to exist, their particles will always be

the same. But some authors have already presented a great part of this

parallel; let us content ourselves with drawing from it a consequence

often deduced from other facts, I mean the difference of the laws that

preside over the two classes of functions.

But there is an essential difference between vital and physical

properties; I refer to sympathies.

All inert bodies show no communication in their different parts. Though

the extremity of a stone, or of a metal, may be altered in any way by

chemical dissolution, or by mechanical agents, the other parts are not

affected; it is necessary to touch them by a direct action. On the

contrary, every thing is so connected and tied together in the living

body, that no one part can be disordered in its functions, without

being immediately perceived by the rest. All physicians have known the

singular consent that exists between our different organs, both in a

state of health and disease, but principally in the latter. How easy

would be the study of diseases, if they were stripped of every thing

derived from sympathy! Who does not know that these complaints often

predominate over those that arise from the injury of the diseased

organ? Who does not know that the cause of sleep, of exhalation, of

absorption, of secretion, of vomiting, of diarrhœa, of retention of

urine, of convulsions, &c. is oftentimes very far from the brain, from

the exhalants, from the absorbents, from the glands, from the stomach,

from the intestines, from the bladder, from the voluntary muscles, &c.?

How little soever we reflect on the sympathetic phenomena, it will be

evident that they are only unnatural developments of vital forces which

are called into action in an organ by the influence that it receives

from those that have been directly excited. In this view all the

systems are dependant upon each other. This important point of doctrine

will be treated at so much length, in this work, particularly under the

article on the nervous system that it is useless to insist much upon it

here.

We shall see sympathies call into action always those vital properties

especially that prevail in a system; animal sensibility in the nerves,

contractility of the same kind in the voluntary muscles, insensible

organic contractility in the involuntary, sensible contractility in

the glands, in the serous, mucous, synovial, cutaneous surfaces, &c.

We shall see them assume the character of the vital properties of the

organs in which they are developed, their progress will be chronic in

the bones, cartilages, &c. acute in the muscles, skin, &c. We shall

see them observe in the frequency of their development, the laws of

nutrition and growth, to appear oftener in the nervous and vascular

system of the child, in the pulmonary organs in youth, and in the

abdominal contents in adult age. But let us pass to other subjects.

IV. _Of the vital properties and their phenomena, considered in

relation to the solids and fluids._

Every organized body is composed of fluids and of solids. The first

are, in one point of view, the materials, and in another the residue of

the second. 1st. They are the materials, for from the aliments which

convey through the intestines, the elements of nutrition, even to the

interior of the organs where these elements are deposited, they form

evidently a part of the chyle and the blood. 2d. They are the residue,

for after having remained some time in the organs, these nutritive

particles are taken up, enter again into the blood, and afterwards make

a part of the secreted fluids, and of those that form cutaneous and

mucous exhalations, which are thrown out externally.

There are then fluids for composition and others subservient to

decomposition. The solids are the termination of the first, which come

from without, and the place from which the second are sent back. The

fluids of composition and decomposition are not all insulated; the

chyle, the materials that enter by cutaneous absorption, the principles

that the lungs draw from the air, &c. are especially of the first

kind. The fluids secreted and exhaled upon the mucous and cutaneous

surfaces, appear to be exclusively of the second. But the blood is a

common centre, in which the elements that enter, and those that go out,

circulate together.

This being admitted, let us see what part the fluids and the solids

enjoy in the vital phenomena. This must evidently depend on the

properties they possess; and in reflecting on the vital properties

which we know, it is evident, that every idea of fluidity is foreign

to them, that fluidity cannot be the seat of any contraction nor of

organic and animal sensibility, &c. I will not speak here of the

pretended spontaneous movements of the blood, of the subtle fluids

that it contains, according to some authors, and which can on occasion

expand or contract it; all this is but an assemblage of vague ideas,

that are confirmed by no experiment. Moreover, all the phenomena of

the living economy show us manifestly the fluids in a state almost

passive, and the solids, on the other hand, always essentially

active. It is the solids that every where receive the excitement, and

act in consequence; the fluids are only the excitants. This constant

impression of the second upon the first, constitutes every where

continual sensations that are not referred to the brain, and which are

consequently not perceived; this is organic sensibility, and differs

from the animal in this, that the mind has no consciousness of these

sensations, which do not go beyond the organs in which they take place.

Since, on one side, the vital properties are essentially seated in the

solids, and on the other, the morbid phenomena are but alterations of

these properties, it is evident that these phenomena reside especially

in the solids, and that to a certain limit the fluids are foreign to

them. Every kind of pain, all spasms and irregular movements of the

heart, that constitute the innumerable variations of the pulse, have

their seat in the solids.

Let us not believe, however, that the fluids are nothing in diseases;

they oftentimes carry the fatal principle of them. They possess, then,

in disease, the same place as in the state of health, in which the

solids are the active agents of all the phenomena that we observe, but

their action is inseparable from that of the fluids. That the heart may

contract, that the capillary system may close itself, it is necessary

that fluids should first go there. In proportion as the fluids are

in their natural state, the excitement is natural; but when this is

changed from any cause, as by the introduction of foreign substances,

at that instant they become unnatural excitants; the functions are

disordered, and diseases supervene. You see, then, that the fluids can

oftentimes be the principle of diseases, and the vehicle of morbific

matter. But this subject merits further consideration.

Here we can apply the distinction of fluids into those of composition

and those of decomposition. The first, which enter the system in

various ways, go into the blood, which, on one account, belongs

to them, but on another, to the fluids of decomposition. It is

incontestable, 1st. that the chyle can be loaded with a variety of

foreign substances, and carry into the blood the fatal principles

of disease, as when putrid and badly digested matter, principles of

contagion mixed with our aliment, &c. are found in the primæ viæ.

2d. Is it not established by many proofs, that cutaneous absorption

oftentimes introduces into the blood the causes of disease, and, 3dly.

that substances foreign to the constituent principles of the air,

and adapted to excite disease, may accidentally get into that fluid

through the medium of the lungs? these things we cannot doubt. Here,

then, there are already three ways open to the principles of morbific

matter, as we shall moreover have reason to be convinced in the course

of this work. 4th. There is another accidental one, that arises from

wounds, cuts, bites, lacerations, &c. by means of which destructive

principles are oftentimes conveyed into the animal economy. Under these

four we might produce a variety of cases, in which the fluids are the

first causes of diseases, by conveying their essential principles and

becoming unnatural excitants to the solids, in which they produce

phenomena contrary to the natural order. But it is evident, that it is

those fluids especially destined to the composition of the organs that

thus carry morbific principles; these are especially their vehicle,

and convey the disease. On the other hand, the fluids destined to the

decomposition tend to carry the disease out of the system. We have seen

that these fluids are every where poured upon the mucous and cutaneous

surfaces, either by exhalation or secretion, as the sweat, the urine,

&c.: and it is by these fluids that a crisis is produced. Physicians

have exaggerated to an infinite degree the influence of these morbific

humours, thus driven out; but we cannot doubt that this doctrine

has oftentimes a real foundation. If these fluids are sometimes the

vehicles of disease, it is when they enter unnaturally into the system,

as when the bile passes into the mass of blood, when the absorbed urine

enters this fluid, &c.

After all that has just been said, it is evident, that it is necessary

to distinguish accurately diseases themselves, or rather the whole of

the symptoms that characterize them, according to the principles that

produce or support them. Almost all the symptoms are in the solids,

but the cause can be in them as well as in the fluids. An example

will render this more clear; the heart can contract unnaturally; 1st.

because its organic sensibility is increased whilst the blood itself

remains the same; 2d. because the blood is either augmented, as in

plethora, or altered in its nature, as in putrid fevers, &c. while the

organic sensibility of the heart does not vary. The excitement may

be double, or the organ may be twice as susceptible as common, the

effect is the same; an acceleration of the pulse takes place. The solid

always takes the principal part in the disease; it is always that which

contracts, but in the first case the cause was in the solid, in the

second it was not.

This example gives an idea of what occurs in diseases, in all of which

the solids are especially in action; but the cause of this action,

sometimes exists in them, and sometimes not. It is no doubt essentially

necessary to seek the distinction of these cases. The following

reflections are made with this view. 1st. I distinguish, in the present

question, diseases into two classes; 1st. into those which especially

affect animal life; 2d. into those that particularly disorder organic

life. I say particularly, for such is the connexion of these two lives,

that the one can hardly be altered without the other; thus fevers that

affect organic life, produce cerebral effects that agitate the animal:

thus also primitive cerebral affections influence sympathetically

the circulation, respiration, &c. But certainly we cannot deny, that

there are some affections, whose principal and primitive character is a

disorder of the animal life; such are convulsions, spasms, paralysis,

mania, epilepsy, catalepsy, &c. But it appears that the cause of these

diseases is almost always in the solids, and that the fluids most

commonly are not affected. Therefore you see that crises, in every case

are foreign to these diseases. Hypochondria, hysteria, melancholia,

&c. though they appear to reside more particularly in the solids, can

yet be in a degree dependant on the fluids, as different examples will

prove.

Diseases, on the other hand, that particularly affect organic life,

as fevers, inflammations, &c. may have their principle as well in the

fluids as in the solids. Hence the reason, that these diseases are

subject to crisis, and are cured by evacuants, alteratives, &c.

2dly. It is necessary in order to resolve the question of the affection

of the solids or the fluids in diseases, to distinguish their phenomena

into those which are sympathetic, and those that are the product

of a direct excitement. Every sympathetic phenomenon has its seat

essentially and necessarily inherent in the solids. In fine, the

solids alone act upon each other and correspond together by means yet

unknown. All sympathetic vomiting, febrile agitation of the heart,

exhalation, secretion, and absorption, arise from a change effected,

by the influence of a part more or less remote, in the solids of those

which are the seats of these phenomena. When cold acts upon the skin

covered with sweat, immediately the pleura becomes affected. If cold

water is conveyed into the stomach while the body is hot, an effect is

oftentimes produced upon a distant organ. This is sympathy, and not the

repercussion of the humours. In this work I have cited a great number

of examples of sympathy under each system; but in none of them I think

is it possible to conceive of an affection of the fluids.

3dly. The division of diseases into organic, or those which alter

the texture of the organs, and into those which leave this texture

untouched, is still essential here. The first have their seat evidently

in the solids.

4thly. The division into acute and chronic, ought not to be neglected

in resolving the problem.

5thly. In fine, it would be necessary to make another distinction not

less important, viz. that of diseases which are independent of every

principle inherent in the economy and of those which proceed from a

similar principle, as when the virus of the venereal, the tetters,

scrofula or scurvy predominates in the whole system, and alternately

attacks the different organs.

How little soever you may examine diseases under different points of

view, you will perceive that what is true of one class cannot be so of

another. It is evident from this, that it is improper to resolve this

question in a general manner, as it has been too often done, and that

a theory of diseases founded upon the principle of the affection of

the solids or fluids alone, is a pathological absurdity, equal to that

in physiology which would place in action the fluids or solids only.

I think there are two errors that should be equally feared, that of

particularizing and that of generalizing too much. The second leads us

to false conclusions as well as the first.

Though the vital properties reside especially in the solids, it is not

necessary to consider the fluids as entirely inert. It is undeniable,

that those of them which form the composition of the body, increase

in vitality as they advance from the aliments of which they are

formed, to the solids which they compose. The alimentary mass is less

animalized than the chyle, and this is less so than the blood. It

would undoubtedly be a subject of very curious research, to determine,

how the particles, from being foreign to the vital properties, and

enjoying only physical ones, become by degrees possessed of the

rudiments of the first. I say the rudiments, for certainly the vital

elaboration that the fluids experience in circulating as such in the

body, and before they penetrate the solids to become a part of them, is

the first degree of their vital properties. In the same manner, if you

should inject into this fluid the materials of those that are exhaled

or secreted, the exhalant and secretory organs would repulse these

materials, if life had not made them undergo a previous elaboration.

It is evidently impossible to say what this vitality of the fluids is;

its existence however is not less real, and the chemist who wishes to

analyze the fluids, has, like the anatomist who dissects the solids,

only the dead body upon which he can operate. You will observe, that

when the principle of life has left the fluids, they go immediately

into a state of putrefaction, and are decomposed like the solids,

deprived of their vital powers. This alone prevents that internal

movement, which undoubtedly enters much into the alterations of which

the fluids are susceptible. Observe what takes place after a meal;

ordinarily a slight increase of the pulse, the effect of the mixture

of the nutritive principles with the blood, is the consequence of

it. If you have made use of acrid or spicy aliments, to which you

are unaccustomed, a general heat, a thousand different sensations of

lassitude and heaviness, accompany digestion. Shall I speak of the

various kinds of wine, and their effects, even to intoxication? Who

has not a hundred times paid dearly for the pleasures of a repast

by a general disorder, an universal agitation, a heat in every part

during the whole time that the wine circulates with the blood? Who has

not observed that one kind of wine produces one effect and another a

different? The solids are then without doubt the seat of every thing

we experience; but is not the cause of it in the fluids? It is the

blood, which carrying with its own particles others that are foreign

to it, excites all the organs, and especially the brain, because there

is a particular relation between this viscus and spirituous liquors,

as there is between cantharides and the bladder, and mercury and the

salivary glands. That which I say is so true, that if you infuse wine

into the open vein of an animal, you will produce analogous effects.

The experiments made upon this subject are so well known that I have

not even repeated them.

I will relate a fact here which disproves what has lately been advanced

upon the incorruptibility of the blood in diseases. A short time since,

in examining a body at the Hôtel Dieu, with Mess. Péborde, l'Herminier,

and Bourdet, we found instead of the black abdominal blood, a real grey

sanies, which filled all the divisions of the splenic vein, the trunk

of the vena porta, and all the hepatic branches, so that by cutting the

liver in slices, we could distinguish by the flow of this sanies, all

the ramifications of the vena porta from those of the vena cava, which

contained ordinary blood. This body was so remarkable for its size,

that I do not recollect to have ever seen one equal to it. Certainly

this sanies was not the effect of death, and the blood had circulated,

if not thus altered, at least very different from its natural state,

and really decomposed.

Consider the immense influence of aliments upon health, structure, and

even character. Compare the people who live only on milk and vegetables

with those who are in the constant use of spirituous liquors. See how

alkohol, carried into the new world, has modified the manners and

habits of the savages; consider the slow and gradual influence of

regimen in chronic diseases, and you will perceive that in health, as

in disease, the alteration of the fluids is frequently before that of

the solids, which consequently become changed; for it is an inevitable

circle. But the alteration of the fluids appears to depend essentially

upon the mode of the mixture of parts not animalized with those that

are so.

We should have a very inaccurate idea of the mixture with the blood of

the foreign substances brought by the way of the intestines, the skin,

or the lungs, for the purposes of sanguification, if we compared it to

the mixture of inert substances, or chemical combinations. The blood

enjoys, if we may so say, the rudiments of organic sensibility; and

as the life which it enjoys places it more or less in relation to the

fluids that enter it, it is more or less disposed to combine with them

and to endow them with the life with which it is animated. Sometimes

it repulses for a long time substances that are foreign to it. I am

persuaded that a great number of the phenomena that we experience after

taking food, especially acrid substances, and spirituous liquors,

arises in part from the general disorder that the blood undergoes when

its vitality begins to communicate itself to these foreign substances

from the kind of struggle which takes place in the vessels, between

the living fluid and that which does not live. Thus we see all the

solids rise, as it were, against a stimulant they are unaccustomed to.

Who knows but that the vitality of the fluids has an influence upon

their motions? I think it is very probable. I doubt whether fluids

purely inert could, if they were alone in animated vessels, circulate

like living fluids. In the same manner, animated fluids could not

move themselves, if they were in vessels deprived of life. Life then

is equally necessary to one and the other. But these subjects are too

obscure to occupy us longer.

V. _Of the properties independent of life._

These are what I call properties of texture. Foreign to inert bodies,

inherent in the organs of living bodies, they arise from their texture,

from the arrangement of their particles, but not from the life that

animates them. Thus death does not destroy them. They remain in the

organs when life is gone; that, however, adds much to their energy.

Putrefaction and the decomposition of the organs, alone destroy them.

The two first of these properties are extensibility and contractility

of texture. I have explained these sufficiently in my Treatise on Life.

I shall have occasion in this work to explain the influence they have

in each system. I shall now speak of a property of which as yet very

little has been said; which chemists have proved by their experiments,

and which physiologists have confounded often with irritability,

but which is as distinct from it as it is from the contractility of

texture; I mean the property of being[3] hardened like horn, and

contracted by the action of different agents. This will be examined

particularly in each system; I shall now describe it in a general

manner only.

[3] There are no words in English that correspond exactly to the words

_racornir_, and _racornissement_, and I have therefore been compelled

to employ the terms, _to harden like horn_, and _horny hardening_, to

express the precise meaning. _Tr._

Every organized part, submitted either after death or during life, to

the action of fire and of certain concentrated acids, is contracted

and wrinkled in different ways, and is affected almost like irritable

organs when they are excited. Now this property is to be considered as

to the agents which put it in action, as to the organs which are the

seat of it, and as to its phenomena.

1st. Fire is the principal agent of this horny hardening. Every living

organ, placed upon burning coals, is suddenly raised to the highest

degree. 2d. Next to fire, the strongest acids, the sulphuric first,

then the nitric, then the muriatic, make the animal fibres contract

most suddenly. As they are diluted, they lose this power, and the acids

that are naturally very weak have hardly any of it. 3d. Alkohol is

much less powerful in producing this effect, though it may be highly

concentrated. It contracts, however, the texture of parts, which

it condenses and even twists. So that those who preserve anatomical

specimens, find it necessary to dilute the alkohol. 4th. The neutral

salts, after being moistened by the humidity of animal substances,

condense and harden them wonderfully after the lapse of a considerable

length of time. 5th. When the air has taken away, by drying, the

aqueous particles of the solids, these continuing exposed to its

action, contract, wrinkle, and twist in a slow and gradual manner. 6th.

The alkalies, however strong they may be employed, do not produce any

kind of horny hardening. 7th. Water appears to act in a manner opposite

to this horny hardening; it dilates, spreads the organs by maceration,

and separates their particles. It is when it is combined with much

caloric that it produces horny hardening. This phenomenon takes place

at some degrees below boiling, and is very remarkable at that point.

The different agents of which I have just spoken, produce, then, two

species of horny hardening: 1st. the first is prompt, sudden, almost

like the motion which results from the irritation of a living muscle:

2d. the other slow, gradual, and even insensible. Fire and the strong

acids are in a special manner the agents of the first. The action of

the neutral salts, of the air, of alkohol, principally produce the

second.

These two species differ very much in their results. The state to which

the first reduces the organ, is soon changed if the hardening cause

continues. 1st. Fire continuing to act upon the solids, reduces them

to a hard and coaly mass. 2d. Boiling water, after a length of time,

destroys by degrees the hardness the solids had suddenly acquired,

by being plunged into it. As the hardness diminishes, the effect of

the boiling increases, and it arrives at the greatest extent, when

the solid, having lost all consistence, becomes pulpy. 3d. Animal

organs that have been acted upon suddenly by the acids, and become

consequently hard, soon grow soft and change into a true pulp. This

double phenomenon, that is presented on the one hand by boiling, and

on the other by the strong acids, has a great analogy, and seems to be

derived from the same principle.

The slow and insensible horny hardening, the effect of the contact of

neutral salts, such as alum, the muriate of soda, &c. of the air and of

alkohol, offers a very different phenomenon from the first. It is not

altered by the continued action of the cause that produced it, however

long it may be; it does not soften in a slow and insensible manner, as

it has hardened, but remains always firm and contracted.

Are these two species only different degrees of the same, or are they

derived from separate principles? I know not. I have only observed,

that when the living solids have undergone the slow and gradual horny

hardening, they are still susceptible of the other. We know that after

many years drying, animal textures are hardened, as in a recent state,

by the action of fire; I have made the same observation with regard to

boiling and the acids. Textures that have been contracted for a long

time by alkohol and the neutral salts present the same phenomenon.

All animal textures are susceptible of sudden hardening, except the

hair, the epidermis, and the nails; these, if we may so say, exhibit

only the rudiments of it. In general the hardening is more sensible,

in proportion as the fibrous texture predominates in the organs. Hence

the muscles, the tendons, and nerves, are the most susceptible of it.

The organs not fibrous, as the glands, show the least degree of it. The

slow and insensible horny hardening is almost the same in every part.

Both exist in textures deprived of animal contractility, of sensible

organic contractility, and of contractility of texture, as well as in

those which enjoy them in the highest degree. Thus the tendons, the

aponeuroses, the bones, even when their calcareous substance has been

removed by acids, may be hardened as well as the muscles and the skin.

This single circumstance would suffice to distinguish the contractility

arising from hardening from all others, if a variety of differences,

which I shall point out hereafter, under the article of the muscles in

particular, did not.

When a texture is suddenly hardened, it loses more than half its

length, and becomes twisted in various ways. Taken suddenly from the

acid or boiling water, it remains hardened; but if it is pulled, it

becomes elongated, and then contracts again, when the force applied

ceases, so that it has acquired a real elasticity by the process

of hardening. This elasticity is remarkable in the tendons, nerves

and muscles, which before this are absolutely destitute of it. This

elasticity is not an effect of the slow and insensible hardening of

alkohol and the neutral salts. By macerating for a length of time

the organized textures, they gradually lose the power of contracting

suddenly, which does not, however, entirely disappear, until the

maceration has reduced the textures to mere pulp.

If the textures are softened by boiling, and stretched out to their

original length, after having been hardened, this cannot be produced

again by any agent that we may employ.

When the textures are in a state of putrefaction, they no longer

possess this kind of contractility.

Slow and insensible hardening cannot take place during life; this is an

insurmountable obstacle to it. But that which is sudden may, when its

agents have overcome the resistance that vitality offers. Oftentimes we

see the skin hardened by burns. When it is stripped of its epidermis,

and a very strong acid is poured upon it, the same effect is produced

as upon any other organ.

When a part has been hardened upon a living subject, it almost

inevitably dies; it cannot be restored to the suppleness that it

possessed before; suppuration separates it from the sound parts.

The fluids do not present the phenomenon of hardening, the fibrine only

excepted. Separated from the blood, it crisps and contracts.

After what has been said, it is evident that the solids possess the

faculty of contracting or shortening. This is brought into action in

many different ways. During life it appears, 1st. in the influence of

the nerves upon the voluntary muscles; this is animal contractility.

2d. In the involuntary muscles by the action of stimuli; this is

sensible organic contractility. 3d. In the muscles, the skin, the

cellular texture, the arteries, the veins, &c. from a want of

extension. This is the contractility of texture, which is not found,

or at least is very obscure, in many of the organs, as the nerves,

the fibrous bodies, the cartilages, the bones, &c. 4th. By the action

of fire, and the strong acids; this is the contractility of the horny

hardening, and is general.

When the muscles are deprived of life, they lose the two first kinds of

contractility; but the third remains with them as it does with all the

organs that enjoy it. When they are dried or remain in water a little

time, they lose that also; but the fourth still continues with them;

it is the last that abandons the animal textures; it is perpetuated

for a length of years. When I have exposed to the action of fire the

cartilaginous parenchyma of bones found in cemeteries, they have become

hardened. I am persuaded that this faculty would last for many ages, if

we could preserve the organic textures.

Contractility is, then, a common and general property, inherent in all

animal textures, but which, according to the manner that it is brought

into action, presents essential differences, which divide it into many

species, that have no analogy. It would certainly be impossible to

avoid distinguishing the difference between the four species I have

pointed out, and that insensible contraction, or kind of oscillation,

which forms during life the insensible organic contractility, or tonic

motions.

Among the causes that bring contractility into action, some belong,

then, to life, others are independent of it, and are derived only from

organization. All the organs are essentially contractile; but each

of the causes which makes them contract acts only upon this or that

texture: the horny hardening alone has a general effect.

VI. _Observations upon the organization of animals._

The properties, whose influence we have just analyzed, are not

absolutely inherent in the particles of matter that are the seat of

them. They disappear when these scattered particles have lost their

organic arrangement. It is to this arrangement that they exclusively

belong; let us treat of it here in a general way.

All animals are an assemblage of different organs, which, executing

each a function, concur in their own manner, to the preservation of

the whole. It is several separate machines in a general one, that

constitutes the individual. Now these separate machines are themselves

formed by many textures of a very different nature, and which really

compose the elements of these organs. Chemistry has its simple bodies,

which form, by the combinations of which they are susceptible, the

compound bodies; such are caloric, light, hydrogen, oxygen, carbon,

azote, phosphorus, &c. In the same way anatomy has its simple textures,

which, by their combinations four with four, six with six, eight with

eight, &c. make the organs. These textures are, 1st. the cellular;

2d. the nervous of animal life; 3d. the nervous of organic life; 4th.

the arterial; 5th. the venous; 6th. the texture of the exhalants;

7th. that of the absorbents and their glands; 8th. the osseous; 9th.

the medullary; 10th. the cartilaginous; 11th. the fibrous; 12th.

the fibro-cartilaginous; 13th. the muscular of animal life; 14th.

the muscular of organic life; 15th. the mucous; 16th. the serous;

17th. the synovial; 18th. the glandular; 19th. the dermoid; 20th. the

epidermoid; 21st. the pilous.

These are the true organized elements of our bodies. Their nature is

constantly the same, wherever they are met with. As in chemistry, the

simple bodies do not alter, notwithstanding the different compound ones

they form. The organized elements of man form the particular object of

this work.

The idea of thus considering abstractedly the different simple textures

of our bodies, is not the work of the imagination; it rests upon the

most substantial foundation, and I think it will have a powerful

influence upon physiology as well as practical medicine. Under whatever

point of view we examine them, it will be found that they do not

resemble each other; it is nature and not science that has drawn the

line of distinction between them.

1st. Their forms are every where different; here they are flat, there

round. We see the simple textures arranged as membranes, canals,

fibrous fasciæ, &c. No one has the same external character with

another, considered as to their attributes of thickness or size.

These differences of form, however, can only be accidental, and the

same texture is sometimes seen under many different appearances; for

example, the nervous appears as a membrane in the retina, and as

cords in the nerves. This has nothing to do with their nature; it is

then from the organization and the properties, that the principal

differences should be drawn.

2dly. There is no analogy in the organization of the simple textures.

We shall see that this organization results from parts that are common

to all, and from those that are peculiar to each; but the common parts

are all differently arranged in each texture. Some unite in abundance

the cellular texture, the blood vessels and the nerves; in others, one

or two of these three common parts are scarcely evident or entirely

wanting. Here there are only the exhalants and absorbents of nutrition;

there the vessels are more numerous for other purposes. A capillary

net-work, wonderfully multiplied, exists in certain textures, in

others this net-work can hardly be demonstrated. As to the peculiar

part, which essentially distinguishes the texture, the differences

are striking. Colour, thickness, hardness, density, resistance, &c.

nothing is similar. Mere inspection is sufficient to show a number of

characteristic attributes of each, clearly different from the others.

Here is a fibrous arrangement, there a granulated one; here it is

lamellated, there circular. Notwithstanding these differences, authors

are not agreed as to the limits of the different textures. I have had

recourse, in order to leave no doubt upon this point, to the action of

different re-agents. I have examined every texture, submitted them to

the action of caloric, air, water, the acids, the alkalies, the neutral

salts, &c. drying, putrefaction, maceration, boiling, &c. the products

of many of these actions have altered in a different manner each kind

of texture. Now it will be seen that the results have been almost all

different, that in these various changes, each acts in a particular

way, each gives results of its own, no one resembling another. There

has been considerable inquiry to ascertain whether the arterial coats

are fleshy, whether the veins are of an analogous nature, &c. By

comparing the results of my experiments upon the different textures,

the question is easily resolved. It would seem at first view that all

these experiments upon the intimate texture of systems, answer but

little purpose; I think however that they have effected an useful

object, in fixing with precision the limits of each organized texture;

for the nature of these textures being unknown, their difference can be

ascertained only by the different results they furnish.

3dly. In giving to each system a different organic arrangement, nature

has also endowed them with different properties. You will see in the

subsequent part of this work, that what we call _texture_ presents

degrees infinitely varying, from the muscles, the skin, the cellular

membrane, &c. which enjoy it in the highest degree, to the cartilages,

the tendons, the bones, &c. which are almost destitute of it. Shall I

speak of the vital properties? See the animal sensibility predominant

in the nerves, contractility of the same kind particularly marked in

the voluntary muscles, sensible organic contractility, forming the

peculiar property of the involuntary, insensible contractility and

sensibility of the same nature, which is not separated from it more

than from the preceding, characterizing especially the glands, the

skin, the serous surfaces, &c. &c. See each of these simple textures

combining, in different degrees, more or less of these properties, and

consequently living with more or less energy.

There is but little difference arising from the number of vital

properties they have in common; when these properties exist in many,

they take in each a peculiar and distinctive character. This character

is chronic, if I may so express myself, in the bones, the cartilages,

the tendons, &c.; it is acute in the muscles, the skin, the glands, &c.

Independently of this general difference, each texture has a particular

kind of force, of sensibility, &c. Upon this principle rests the whole

theory of secretion, of exhalation, of absorption, and of nutrition.

The blood is a common reservoir, from which each texture chooses, that

which is adapted to its sensibility, to appropriate and keep it, or

afterwards reject it.

Much has been said since the time of Bordeu, of the peculiar life of

each organ, which is nothing else than that particular character which

distinguishes the combination of the vital properties of one organ,

from those of another. Before these properties had been analyzed with

exactness and precision, it was clearly impossible to form a correct

idea of this peculiar life. From the account I have just given of it,

it is evident that the greatest part of the organs being composed of

very different simple textures, the idea of a peculiar life can only

apply to these simple textures, and not to the organs themselves.

Some examples will render this point of doctrine which is important,

more evident. The stomach is composed of the serous, organic muscular,

mucous, and of almost all the common textures, as the arterial, the

venous, &c. which we can consider separately. Now if you should attempt

to describe in a general manner, the peculiar life of the stomach it is

evidently impossible that you could give a very precise and exact idea

of it. In fact the mucous surface is so different from the serous, and

both so different from the muscular, that by associating them together,

the whole would be confused. The same is true of the intestines, the

bladder, the womb, &c.; if you do not distinguish what belongs to each

of the textures that form the compound organs, the term peculiar life

will offer nothing but vagueness and uncertainty. This is so true, that

oftentimes the same textures alternately belong or are foreign to their

organs. The same portion of the peritoneum, for example, enters or does

not enter, into the structure of the gastric viscera, according to

their fulness or vacuity.

Shall I speak of the pectoral organs? What has the life of the

fleshy texture of the heart in common with that of the membrane that

surrounds it? Is not the pleura independent of the pulmonary texture?

Has this texture nothing in common with the membrane that surrounds

the bronchia? Is it not the same with the brain in relation to its

membranes, of the different parts of the eye, the ear, &c.?

When we study a function, it is necessary carefully to consider in a

general manner, the compound organ that performs it; but when you

wish to know the properties and life of this organ, it is absolutely

necessary to decompose it. In the same way, if you would have only

general notions of anatomy, you can study each organ as a whole; but it

is essential to separate the textures, if you have a desire to analyze

with accuracy its intimate structure.

VII. _Consequences of the preceding principles relative to diseases._

What I have been saying leads to important consequences, as it respects

those acute or chronic diseases that are local; for those, which like

most fevers, affect almost simultaneously every part, cannot be much

elucidated by the anatomy of systems. The first then will engage our

attention.

Since diseases are only alterations of the vital properties, and each

texture differs from the others in its properties, it is evident

there must be a difference also in the diseases. In every organ then,

composed of different textures, one may be diseased, while the others

remain sound; now this happens in a great many cases; let us take the

principal organs, for example.

1st. Nothing is more rare than affections of the mass of the brain;

nothing is more common than inflammation of the tunica arachnoides that

covers it. 2d. Oftentimes one membrane of the eye only is affected,

the others preserving their ordinary degree of vitality. 3d. In

convulsions or paralysis of the muscles of the larynx, the mucous

surface is unaffected; and on the other hand the muscles perform their

functions as usual in catarrhs of this surface. Both these affections

are foreign to the cartilages, and vice versa. 4th. We observe a

variety of different alterations in the texture of the pericardium,

but hardly ever in that of the heart itself; it remains sound while

the other is inflamed. The ossification of the common membrane of the

red blood does not extend to the neighbouring textures. 5th. When the

membrane of the bronchia is the seat of catarrh, the pleura is hardly

affected at all, and reciprocally in pleurisy the first is scarcely

ever altered. In peripneumony, when an enormous infiltration in the

dead body shows the excessive inflammation that has existed during

life in the pulmonary texture, the serous and mucous surfaces often

appear not to have been affected. Those who open dead bodies know that

they are frequently healthy in incipient phthisis. 6th. We speak of a

bad stomach, a weak stomach; this most commonly should be understood

as applying to the mucous surface only. Whilst this secretes with

difficulty the nutritive juices, without which digestion is impaired,

the serous surface exhales as usual its fluid, the muscular coat

continues to contract, &c. In ascites, in which the serous surface

exhales more lymph than in a natural state, the mucous oftentimes

performs its functions perfectly well, &c. 7th. All authors have said

much of the inflammation of the stomach, the intestines, the bladder,

&c. For myself I believe that this disease rarely ever affects at first

the whole of any of these organs, except in the case where poison

or some other deleterious substance acts upon them. There are for

the mucous surface of the stomach and intestines, acute and chronic

catarrhs, for the peritoneum serous inflammations, perhaps even for

the layer of organic muscles that separates the two membranes, there

is a particular kind of inflammation, though we have as yet hardly any

thing certain upon this point; but the stomach, the intestines, and the

bladder are not suddenly affected with these three diseases. A diseased

texture can affect those near it, but the primitive affection seizes

only upon one. I have examined a great number of bodies in which the

peritoneum was inflamed either upon the intestines, the stomach, the

pelvis, or universally; now very often when this affection is chronic,

and almost always when it is acute, the subjacent organs remain sound.

I have never seen this membrane exclusively diseased upon one organ,

while that of the neighbouring ones remain untouched; its affection is

propagated more or less remotely. I know not why authors have hardly

ever spoken of its inflammation, and have placed to the account of

the subjacent viscera that which most often belongs only to this.

There are almost as many cases of peritonitis as of pleurisy, and

yet while these last have been particularly noticed the others are

almost entirely overlooked. Oftentimes that part of the peritoneum

corresponding to an organ, is much inflamed; we see it in the case of

the stomach; we observe especially after the suppression of the lochia

or the menses, that it is the portion that lines the pelvis that is

first affected. But soon the affection becomes more or less general; at

least examinations after death prove it satisfactorily. 8th. Certainly

the acute or chronic catarrh of the bladder, or womb even, has nothing

in common with the inflammation of that portion of the peritoneum

corresponding with these organs. 9th. Every one knows that diseases of

the periosteum have oftentimes no connexion with the bone, and vice

versa, that frequently the marrow is for a long time affected, while

both the others remain sound. There is no doubt that the osseous,

medullary and fibrous textures have their peculiar affections which we

shall not confound with the idea we may form of the diseases of the

bones. The same can be said of the intestines, of the stomach, &c. in

relation to their mucous, serous, muscular textures, &c. 10th. Though

the muscular and tendinous textures are combined in a muscle, their

diseases are very different. 11th. You must not think that the synovial

is subject to the same diseases as the ligaments that surround it, &c.

I think the more we observe diseases, and the more we examine bodies,

the more we shall be convinced of the necessity of considering local

diseases, not under the relation of the compound organs, which are

rarely ever affected as a whole, but under that of their different

textures, which are almost always attacked separately.

When the phenomena of diseases are sympathetic, they follow the same

laws as when they arise from a direct affection. Much has been said of

the sympathies of the stomach, the intestines, the bladder, the lungs,

&c. But it is impossible to form an idea of them, if they are referred

to the organ as a whole, separate from its different textures. 1st.

When in the stomach, the fleshy fibres contract by the influence of

another organ and produce vomiting, they alone receive the influence,

which is not extended either to the serous or mucous surfaces; if it

were, they would be the seat, the one of exhalation, the other of

sympathetic exhalation and secretion. 2d. It is certain that when the

action of the liver is sympathetically increased, so that it pours out

more bile, the portion of peritoneum that covers it does not throw

out more serum, because it is not affected by it. It is the same of

the kidney, the pancreas, &c. 3d. For the same reason, the gastric

organs upon which the peritoneum is spread, do not partake of the

sympathetic influences that it experiences. I shall say as much of the

lungs in relation to the pleura, the brain in relation to the tunica

arachnoides, the heart to the pericardium, &c. 4th. It is undeniable

that in all sympathetic convulsions, the fleshy texture is alone

affected, and that the tendinous is not so at all. 5th. What has the

fibrous membrane of the testicles in common with the sympathies of its

peculiar texture? 6th. No doubt a number of sympathetic pains that we

refer to the bones, are seated exclusively in the marrow.

I could cite many other examples to prove, that it is not this or that

organ which sympathizes as a whole, but only this or that texture in

the organs; besides, this is an immediate consequence of the nature of

sympathies. In fact the sympathies are but aberrations of the vital

properties; now these properties vary according to each texture; the

sympathies of these textures then would do the same.

Observe what takes place in fever, accompanying the different kinds

of inflammation. That attending the mucous is slight, that with the

serous severe, and that with the cutaneous has the peculiar character

of showing itself some days before the eruption, as has been noticed

by Pinel. If we attentively observe the fever which attends the

inflammations of all the systems, we shall find as many differences, as

many peculiar characters, as there are systems. Whence does this arise?

From the difference of the relations that unite the heart to each kind

of texture; now this difference of relations is the result of the

difference of the vital forces peculiar to each.

Observe the itch, herpes, cancer, venereal disease, &c. when they have

ceased to be local affections, they spread themselves universally;

they alternately attack different textures, according to the relation

which they have with the organic sensibility of these textures. But it

is almost always separately that they attack them; an organ is never

as a whole influenced by them in all its parts. What do I say? If two

of these diseases exist at the same time, one seizes upon one texture,

the other upon a different one of the same organ. Thus the stomach, the

intestines, the lungs, &c. can be attacked by two different diatheses,

and each will be independent of the other, because each will be fixed

upon a different texture, one upon the mucous, for example, the other

upon the serous, &c.

Let us not, however, exaggerate this independence of the textures of

the organs in diseases, lest experience should contradict us. We shall

see that the cellular system is oftentimes a medium of communication,

not only from one texture to another in the same organ, but from one

organ to a neighbouring one. Thus in many chronic diseases, all the

parts of the same organ are gradually changed, and at the examination

of this organ after death, the whole of it appears to have been

affected, though one of its textures only was so at first. In the

cancer of the breast, you find at first only a small gland that rolls

under the finger; finally the glandular, the cellular, and even the

cutaneous textures are confounded in one common cancerous mass. Cancer

of the stomach, the intestines, the penis, &c. follows the same course.

Observe phthisis, exhibiting in the beginning some small tubercles in

the pulmonary texture, at length invading oftentimes the pleura, the

bronchial membrane, &c. How little soever you may examine bodies with

a view to the same chronic disease, and at different periods, you will

be convinced of the truth of this assertion, viz. that a texture being

at first affected in an organ, communicates its affection gradually to

others, and that you will be deceived in judging of the primitive seat

of the disease, if you attempt to determine it from the parts found

affected at the time of the examination.

In acute diseases, continuity is oftentimes sufficient to explain the

different symptoms that appear in textures that are not affected. The

peritoneal coat only being inflamed, vomiting is produced. We cough and

sometimes expectorate considerably when the pleura alone is diseased.

Delirium comes on when the tunica arachnoides is inflamed, though

the intellectual functions are not connected with it. Frequently the

diseases of the pericardium are sufficient to disturb the motion of the

heart, &c. We cannot deny after this, that oftentimes an alteration

in one of the textures alone of an organ is sufficient to disturb the

functions of all the others; but still it is in one only, that the

primitive source of the evil exists.

I now pass to some other considerations relative to the influence of

the anatomy of systems in diseases.

Since every organized texture has every where the same arrangement;

since, whatever be its situation, it has the same structure and the

same properties, it is evident that its diseases must be every where

the same. It makes no difference, that the serous texture is connected

with the brain by the tunica arachnoides, with the lungs by the pleura,

with the heart by the pericardium, with the gastric viscera by the

peritoneum, &c. every where it is inflamed in the same manner; every

where dropsies take place in the same way; every where it is subject to

a species of eruption of little whitish tubercles, like the miliary, of

which I believe there has been no description, but which deserves great

attention; I have already many times observed this peculiar eruption

of the serous texture, which is generally of a chronic character,

like most of the cutaneous eruptions; I shall speak of it hereafter.

Whatever may be the organ that the mucous texture invests, its

affections have in general the same character, excepting the difference

only that arises from variety of structure. I will say the same of the

fibrous, cartilaginous textures, &c. Mr. Pinel appears to me to have

done much for the art, in being the first who arranged inflammations in

the order of the systems, and embracing in one general view all those

of the same system, whatever may be the organs in which it is found.

There are always two orders of symptoms in inflammations; 1st. those

that belong to the nature of the diseased textures; 2d. those which

depend upon the affected organ, in which the inflammation exists. For

example, the kind of pain, the nature of the accompanying fever, the

duration, the termination, &c. are almost always the same, whatever

serous surface is affected. But difficulty of breathing, dry cough, &c.

prove it to be the pleura; diarrhœa, constipation, vomiting, &c. that

it is the peritoneum; injury of the intellectual functions, that it is

the tunica arachnoides; irregular pulse, that it is the pericardium,

&c. The first belong to the whole class, the second set of symptoms is

confined exclusively to this or that particular sort; now the second

are, if we may so say, accessory, depending upon the proximity of the

affected texture with some other texture. The first are particularly

important.

Medicine has yet much to do, in its researches upon the inflammation

of the different textures. We are well acquainted with that of the

cellular, the cutaneous, the serous, and the mucous; but that of

the others is very obscure. It is yet to be ascertained, which is

attacked, the fibrous or muscular, in rheumatism. I am inclined to

think that it is the first. Almost every thing remains to be known in

the cartilaginous, the synovial, the arterial, the venous, &c. as it

respects their inflammatory phenomena.

In making these researches, it will be necessary to establish one

important distinction; that is, 1st. that certain textures, as the

osseous, the muscular of animal life, &c. are precisely the same in

all the organs in which they are found, and consequently that their

diseases must be the same; 2d. that others, as the cutaneous, the

serous, the mucous, &c. experience, according to the organs to which

they belong, some variety of structure and vital properties, which

necessarily modify the general phenomena of the class of diseases

that belong to these textures; 3d. that others, as the glandular, the

muscular of organic life, &c. are very different in each organ; and

that their general symptoms and class of diseases must consequently

differ considerably.

After having shown most of the local diseases, as affecting almost

always, not an individual organ, but some texture in an organ, it

is necessary to show the differences they present according to the

textures they affect. As under each system, this subject will be

treated more or less fully, I shall only refer to it here.

We shall see, then, that pain is modified differently in each texture,

according to the degree of sensibility that it possesses. No one

excites the same sensations as the others when it is inflamed. Compare

the burning of erisypelas with the throbbing of phlegmon, the pain

of rheumatism with that of inflamed lymphatic glands, &c. We shall

see also that the sense of heat, developed in each inflamed texture,

has a particular character; here it is sharp and biting, there like

the feeling produced by fire, &c. There are two general causes that

produce a variation in the symptoms of diseases: 1st. the nature of

the affected texture; thus, as I have just said, the inflammation of

each produces a different kind of suffering. 2d. The nature of the

disease; we know that cancer, whatever texture it may affect, has a

pain that is peculiar to it; that syphilis and scurvy have also a

peculiar character, that is, however, modified in a slight degree in

each texture.

The difference of textures not only modifies the symptoms, but affects

the duration of them also. Nothing in medicine is more vague, in

this point of view, than the terms acute and chronic, in relation to

inflammations of the different textures. Most commonly they run their

course rapidly in the dermoid, cellular, serous, mucous textures,

&c.; on the other hand, they are slow in the bones, the cartilages,

and the fibro-cartilages. If we apply this distinction to the same

texture, it is very well; thus there are catarrhs, serous and cutaneous

inflammations, &c. that are acute and chronic. But if we generalize it,

it cannot be understood. A catarrh would be chronic if it lasted two

months; but this is the common term of an acute inflammation of the

bones; a chronic one continues for a whole year or more. Cutaneous,

mucous wounds, &c. last only five or six days if they heal by the first

intention; while it requires thirty or forty for a bone, a cartilage,

&c. to be cicatrized by the juxta-position of its different parts.

A disease cannot be classed, then, by its duration, as an acute or

chronic one, except in relation to the same system; when we describe it

then in a general way, this distinction becomes void.

Physicians consider abstractedly almost all diseases. When they

speak of inflammation they describe the redness, swelling, throbbing

and pain, as general attributes, always uniform. If of suppuration,

they take for a general standard that of the cellular texture, in

phlegmon, without thinking that it is only one of the modifications

of suppuration and its product. The same may be said of gangrene,

scirrhus, &c. Nothing is more vague and uncertain than the general

ideas that are given concerning a disease; they scarcely agree in one

or two of the textures.

It is not only the history of diseases that the anatomy of systems

will elucidate; it will change in part the method of treating morbid

anatomy. Morgagni, to whom we owe so much in this respect, and

many others, to whom the art is indebted, have adopted the general

arrangement used in descriptions. They have examined the diseases of

the head, the chest, the abdomen, and the extremities. In following

this method, they can only form to themselves a general idea of the

alterations common to all the textures. The ideas are necessarily too

much contracted, when there is presented only an insulated part of a

system, which is composed of a great many others. If, besides this, you

obtain a general knowledge of the affections of each system, you must

bear in mind, with regard to each, the general ideas concerning the

affections of the parts they compose.

It appears to me to be infinitely more simple to consider at first all

the affections common to each system, and then to observe what every

organ has peculiar to itself in the part that it occupies.

I divide, then, morbid anatomy into two great parts. The first contains

the history of the alterations common to each system, whatever may be

the organ in the structure of which it is concerned, or whatever may be

the place it occupies. It is necessary to show at first the different

alterations of the cellular, arterial, venous, nervous, osseous,

muscular, mucous, serous, synovial, glandular, cutaneous textures,

&c. to examine the kind of inflammation, suppuration, gangrene, &c.

peculiar to each; to speak of the different enlargements of which they

are susceptible, the changes in their nature, which they undergo,

&c. Some, as the mucous, the cutaneous, the serous, the glandular,

&c. afford in this respect an immense field to morbid anatomy. The

others, as the fibrous, the nervous, the muscular, &c. are more rarely

changed in their texture. We shall see hereafter that nutrition alone

is performed in these, and that the others are particularly the seat

of exhalation, absorption, secretion, &c. functions which suppose much

energy in the insensible contractility and organic sensibility, which

are connected with all the alterations of texture.

After having thus pointed out the alterations peculiar to each system,

in whatever organ it is found, an examination should be made of the

diseases peculiar to each region; as those of the head, the chest, the

abdomen, and the extremities, after the common method. Here they may be

divided, 1st. into diseases which can especially affect an organ as a

whole, and not one of its textures alone, which is very rare. 2d. Into

the characters peculiar to each portion of this or that texture; for

example in the head, the peculiar symptoms which are seen in diseases

of the serous surface of the tunica arachnoides, those in affections of

the mucous surface of the pituitary membrane, &c.

This course is incontestably the most natural, though, as in all

divisions in which we wish to copy nature, there are many cases which

it almost excludes.

It seems to me that we live at a period, when morbid anatomy should

take a higher stand. This science is not only that of organic

derangements, that take place slowly, as the principles or consequences

of chronic diseases, it consists in the examination of all the

alterations our organs can undergo, at any period in which we may

observe their diseases. With the exception of certain kinds of fevers

and nervous affections, every thing in pathology is within the

province of this science. How weak appears the reasoning of many great

physicians, when we examine it, not in their works, but on the dead

body. Medicine was for a long time excluded from the circle of the

exact sciences; it will have a right to be associated with them, at

least in the diagnostics of diseases, when we shall every where unite

to accurate observation, an examination of the changes our organs

undergo. This course is beginning to be that of all rational minds;

it will without doubt soon be general. What is observation worth, if

we are ignorant of the seat of the disease? You may take notes, for

twenty years, from morning to night at the bedside of the sick, upon

the diseases of the heart, the lungs, the gastric viscera, &c. and all

will be to you only a confusion of symptoms, which, not being united

in one point, will necessarily present only a train of incoherent

phenomena. Open a few bodies, this obscurity will soon disappear, which

observation alone would never have been able to have dissipated.

VIII. _Remarks upon the classification of functions._

The plan that I have followed in this work, is not the most favourable

to the study of the functions. Many of them, such as digestion,

respiration, &c. would find no place here, because they do not belong

especially to the simple systems, but to a combination of them, an

union of many systems, and even of many organs. Thus what I have said

upon the functions, is introduced only incidentally in this work, the

particular object of which is the analysis of the different simple

systems that form the compound organs. However, as some would wish to

connect the different facts of physiology that it contains, with a

physiological classification, I will now explain that which I have

adopted in my course of lectures.

We know how different the kinds of classification are. The ancient

division, into animal, vital, and natural functions, rests upon so weak

a foundation, that a methodical superstructure could not be raised

upon it. Vicq d'Azyr has substituted one for it which offers hardly

any more advantages, as it separates phenomena that are connected, and

changes into functions, properties, such as sensibility, irritability,

&c. Since this author, others have made divisions which are not more

methodical, and are equally removed from the natural arrangement of the

phenomena of life.

I have endeavoured, as far as possible, in classing the functions, to

follow the path marked out by nature herself. I have laid, in my work

upon Life and Death, the foundations of this classification, which I

pursued before I published this work. Aristotle, Buffon, &c. have seen

in man two kinds of functions, one which connects him with external

bodies, the other, which serves for his nourishment. Grimaud brought

forward again this idea, which is as great as it is true, in his course

of physiology and in his memoir upon nutrition; but by considering

it in too general a manner, he did not analyze it with sufficient

exactness, he ranked among the external functions, only sensation and

motion, he did not describe the brain as the centre of these functions,

nor place the voice among them, which is however one of the great

means of communication, with the bodies that surround us. He did not

analyze more accurately the internal functions. He did not point out

their connexion in the elaboration of nutritive matter, where each

works in its turn, if I may so express myself; nor show the distinctive

characters, which separate generation from all the other functions

relating to the individual alone. Besides, the distinction of internal

and external functions was only presented as a general sketch in his

Memoir upon Nutrition, and not as a means of classification. He did not

avail himself of it, in the division of the functions, in his lectures,

of which many manuscripts arranged by himself, are to be met with at

the present time; in these he examined, 1st. osteogony, which was

treated at much length; 2d. the action of the muscles; 3d. the action

of the vessels or the circulation; 4th. generation; 5th. the action of

the organs of the senses; 6th. the action of the brain and nerves; 7th.

digestion; 8th. secretion; 9th. respiration, &c. From this it may be

perceived, that Grimaud, like preceding authors, mixed together all the

functions without referring them to certain general heads.

In reflecting upon the division pointed out above, I soon saw that it

was not only one of those general views, one of those great outlines,

that are oftentimes made by men of genius who cultivate physiology,

but that it might become the permanent basis of a methodical

classification. To come at this classification I observed that it was

necessary at first to refer all the functions to two great classes,

one relating to the individual, the other to the species; that these

two classes had nothing in common, but the general connexion that

unites all the phenomena of living bodies; but a variety of distinctive

attributes characterize them, which cannot be separated from them.

These two first classes being rigorously defined, and their limits

established by nature, I sought to discover in each, orders equally

natural; this was easy in the functions relating to the individual.

In fact, this was the place for the general outline of Aristotle and

Buffon; but it was not to be presented in too general a manner; the

nature and connexion of the functions peculiar to each order, were to

be accurately assigned.

I called the order of functions that connects us with external bodies,

animal life, thus indicating that this order belongs alone to animals,

that it is more with them than with vegetables, and that it is the

addition of these functions that particularly distinguishes them

from vegetables. I called organic life, the order that serves for the

constant composition and decomposition of our bodies, because this life

is common to all organized beings, vegetables as well as animals; and

because the only condition of enjoying it is organization; so that it

forms a boundary between organic and inorganic bodies, as animal life

serves to separate the two classes that form the first.

Animal life is composed of the action of the senses which receive

impressions, of the brain which perceives them, reflects, and wills,

of the voluntary muscles and larynx that execute this volition, and of

the nerves which are the agents of transmission. The brain is truly

the central organ of this life. Digestion, circulation, respiration,

exhalation, absorption, secretion, nutrition, calorification, compose

organic life, which has the heart for its principal and central organ.

I place calorification here, because it is evident from what I have

said under the article upon the capillary systems, that it is a

function analogous to secretion, exhalation and nutrition. It is truly

a separation of combined caloric, from the mass of blood. It is, if

the expression is preferred, a secretion or exhalation of that fluid

in every part of the body. I have not even at present given this place

to heat in my physiological classification: but in reflecting upon the

method of its production, it will be seen that it ought to have it.

The two orders of the first class being established, it was easy to

assign those of the second, which are three in number: 1st. functions

belonging to the male; 2d. those belonging to the female; 3d. those

arising from an union of the two sexes and the product of this union;

these are the three orders.

Such is the classification that I made in my Lectures on Physiology;

it has evidently nothing in common with any of those that are found

in physiological works; and if you reflect upon it a little, it

will appear I think infinitely preferable to any of them. Observe in

fine, that each class and each order have general and characteristic

attributes that particularly distinguish them, and which being

applicable to all the functions of that order, mark a difference

between them and all the functions of any other order. I have pointed

out moreover the distinctive attributes of animal and of organic life;

I have shown that the organs of one are symmetrical, those of the other

irregular; that there is a harmony in the functions of the first, a

discordance in those of the second; that one commences sooner and

terminates later, &c.

I have demonstrated, that the cerebral nerves belong especially to

animal life, the nerves of the ganglions to the organic, which appears

to me to be a remarkable difference, and which has induced me to make

two systems of the nerves, that anatomists have united in one. The

first, belonging to animal life, is composed of the cerebral nerves,

the other to organic, is formed of the nerves of the ganglions, or what

is commonly called the great sympathetic.

But it is the vital powers especially that distinguish one life from

another. I have shown that one kind of sensibility and contractility

belongs to animal life, and another to organic. Now as these vital

properties are the principle of the functions, it is evident that the

division of these properties demonstrates that that of the two lives is

not an abstraction, but that it is nature herself that has fixed the

limits, since she has made particular properties for each.

It is impossible to form a precise idea of the vital properties,

without admitting the division I have made. How many disputes there

have been, upon the subject of sensibility! Not one of them would

have taken place, if the attributes of animal life had been properly

distinguished from those of the organic. Certainly no one will

hereafter confound in one view, as frequently has been done, the

faculty that the heart has of being sensible to the entrance of the

blood, without transmitting that impression, and the faculty that the

skin, the other senses, the nerves, &c. have, not only of feeling the

impression of external bodies, but of transmitting it to the brain, so

that the sensation may be perceived.

If you include under one common name of irritability, the motions of

muscles that contract only by stimuli, and those which the cerebral

influence puts in action, it is impossible that you should be

understood.

There has been much discussion during the last age, upon the point,

whether sensibility is the same as contractility, or if these two

properties can be separated. Each of the two opinions seem to have

rested upon an equally solid foundation. But all these disputes

will be done away, by admitting the distinction I have made in the

vital properties. 1st. In animal life, then, it is evident, that

contractility is not a necessary consequence of sensibility; thus

frequently external objects make for a long time an impression upon

us, and yet the voluntary muscles remain unmoved. 2d. On the other

hand, in organic life, these two properties are never separated. In

the involuntary motions of the heart, the stomach, the intestines,

&c. there is first an excitement of the organic sensibility, and

then an action of the sensible organic contractility. In the same

manner, in the motions necessary to secretion, exhalation, &c. when

the organic sensibility has been brought into action, immediately

insensible organic contractility takes place. It is that they may

be studied better, and appreciated more accurately, that in organic

life, I separate these two kinds of contractility from sensibility.

In the natural state they are inseparable. Hence why the passive

sympathies of animal sensibility are very different from those of

animal contractility, and make two distinct classes, whilst the

passive sympathies of organic sensibility can never be separated from

the corresponding contractilities. We suffer by sympathy, and are

sympathetically convulsed in a distinct manner; these two things are

almost always separate. On the contrary, sensation and motion in the

organic sympathies are inseparable.

I could prove by many examples, that all the disputes, and all the

diversities of opinion, upon the subject of the vital properties,

proceed only from this cause, that those which preside over the

functions of one life, have not been distinguished from those which put

into action the functions of the other.

Let us return to my physiological division; I will now give a table

of it, which, presenting it under one point of view, will give a more

precise idea of the classification. This table comprehends, 1st. the

prolegomena of the science; 2d. the exposition of the functions. In the

prolegomena, every thing is referred to two great considerations; on

the one hand to organic texture, described in a general manner, and on

the other to life, considered in relation to its great attributes.

TABLE OF PHYSIOLOGY.

_PROLEGOMENA._

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON ORGANIC TEXTURE.

SECTION I.

│1st. Of the organic texture of animals.

│2d. Of simple textures, in general.

│3d. Of organs, in general.

│4th. Of the apparatus, in general.[4]

[4] In a subsequent part of this work, the author defines _appareil_,

which I have translated by the word _apparatus_, to be an assemblage

of many systems. It will be perceived that the English word in this

and some other instances is in the plural number. I should certainly

have preferred some other term more conformable to the idiom of our

own language if I had known any one that would so well have conveyed

the sense of the author. _Tr._

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