The truth of that passage of Hippocrates[342] where it said that “those

whose acetabula or cotyledons are full of mucor, abort,” has always been

suspected by me; for this is no excrementitious matter or cause of

miscarriage, but nourishment and a source of life. But Hippocrates, by

the word acetabula, perhaps, understood something else than the parts so

called in the uterus of the lower animals, for they are wanting in

women; nor does the placenta in the human subject contain any

collections of albuminous matter in distinct cavities.

Modern medical writers, following the Arabians, speak of three

nutritious humours--dew, gluten, and cambium; these Fernelius designates

nutritious juices; as if he had wished to imply that the parts of our

bodies were not immediately nourished by the blood as ultimate

nutriment, but by these secondary juices. The first of them, like dew,

bathes all the minutest particles of the body on every side: this fluid,

become thicker by an ulterior concoction, and adhering to the parts, is

called gluten; finally, altered and assimilated by the proper virtue of

the part, it is called cambium.

He who espoused such views might designate the matter which is contained

in the cotyledonous cavities of the deer as gluten or nutritious

albumen, and maintain that as the ultimate nourishment destined for each

of the particular parts of the fœtus it was analogous to the albumen or

vitellus of the egg. For as we but lately stated, with Aristotle, that

the yelk of the egg was analogous to milk, so do we think it not

unreasonable to assert, that the matter lodged in the cotyledons, or

acetabula of the uterine placenta, stands instead of milk to the fœtus

so long as it remains in the uterus; in this way the caruncles approve

themselves a kind of internal mammæ, the nutritive matter of which,

transferred at the period of parturition to the proper mammæ, there

assumes the nature of milk, an arrangement by which the fœtus is seen to

be nourished with the same food after it has begun its independent

existence, as it was whilst it lodged in the uterus. Between the

two-coloured eggs of oviparous animals, consequently, or the eggs that

consist of a white and a yelk, and the ova or conceptions of viviparous

animals, there is only this difference, that in the former the vitellus

(which is a secondary nutritive matter) is prepared within the egg, and

at the period of birth, being stored within the abdomen of the young

creature, serves it as food; whilst in the latter, the nutritive juice

is laid up within acetabula, and after birth is transferred to the

mammæ; so that the chick is nourished with milk inclosed in its

interior, whilst the fœtus of the viviparous animal draws its

nourishment from the breasts of its mother.

In the months of January, February, &c., as nothing new or worthy of

note occurs which has not been already mentioned, (more than the growth

of the hair, teeth, horns, &c.) but the parts only grow larger without

reference to the process of generation, it seems unnecessary to say more

upon such points at present.

I have frequently examined the conceptions of sheep during the same

intervals. These I find, as in the deer, extending into both horns of

the uterus, and presenting the figure of a wallet or double sausage. In

several of them I found two fœtuses; in others only one: they were

without a trace of wool on the surface, and the eyelids were so closely

glued together that they could not be opened; the hooves, however, were

present. Where there were two embryos they were contained in the

opposite horns of the uterus, and without any regard to sex with

reference to the right or left horn, the male being sometimes in the

right, sometimes in the left, and the female the same; both, however,

were, in every instance, included within one and the same common

external membrane or chorion. The extreme ends of this membrane were

stained on either hand with a yellow or bilious excrement, and appeared

to contain something turbid or excrementitious in their interior.

Many caruncles, or miniature placentas of different sizes, were

discovered, and otherwise disposed than in the hind and doe. In the

sheep they look like rounded fungi with the foot-stalks broken off, and

are contained in the coats of the uterus; their rounded or convex

aspects are turned to the uterus, (a circumstance, by the way, common to

the cow and sheep,) their concave aspects, which are the smooth ones,

being turned towards the fœtus. The larger branches of the vessels are

also distributed to the concave portion, as in the human placenta. The

branches in extension of the umbilical vessels connected with the

caruncles, grow pretty firmly into them, so that when I attempted to

separate them the rounded portion was rather torn from the interior of

the uterus than from the ovum or conception; different, consequently,

from what we observed in the deer, where the chorion was readily

detached from the cotyledons of the caruncules, and where the convexity

of the caruncule, connected with the conception, is separable, whilst

the concavity, or rather the pedicle or root, is firmly adherent to the

uterus. In other respects the function seems to be the same in both

cases; in both the same acetabula are discovered, and the same viscid

and albuminous mucus can be pressed out in both, as it can also in the

cow.

In the conception that contains a single fœtus, the umbilical vessels

are distributed to the whole of the caruncules of either horn; but the

one in which the fœtus itself is contained, swimming in its crystalline

fluid within the amnion, is larger than the other. In the cases where

there are two fœtuses present, each has its own separate or appropriate

caruncles, and does not send its umbilical vessels in quest of

nourishment beyond the cornu in which it is lodged.

In male fœtuses, the testes contained in the scrotum, of large size for

the age, hang externally. Female fœtuses, again, have their dugs in the

same situation, furnished with nipples like the breasts of women.

In the compound stomach of the fœtus, namely the omasus and abomasus, a

clear fluid is discovered, similar to that in which it floats; the two

liquids agreeing obviously in smell, taste, and consistency. There is

also a quantity of chyle in the upper part of the intestinal tube; in

the inferior portion a greenish-coloured excrement and scybala, such as

we find when the animal is feeding on grass. The liver is discovered of

considerable size, the gall-bladder of an oblong shape, and in some

cases empty.

In so far as the order in which the several parts are produced is

concerned, we have still found the same rule to be observed in the hind

and doe as in the egg, and we believe that the same law obtains among

viviparous animals generally.

EXERCISE THE SEVENTY-FIRST.

_Of the innate heat._

As frequent mention is made in the preceding pages of the _calidum

innatum_, or innate heat, I have determined to say a few words here, by

way of dessert, both on that subject and on the _humidum primigenium_,

or radical moisture, to which I am all the more inclined because I

observe that many pride themselves upon the use of these terms without,

as I apprehend, rightly understanding their meaning. There is, in fact,

no occasion for searching after spirits foreign to, or distinct from,

the blood; to evoke heat from another source; to bring gods upon the

scene, and to encumber philosophy with any fanciful conceits; what we

are wont to derive from the stars is in truth produced at home: the

blood is the only calidum innatum, or first engendered animal heat; a

fact which so clearly appears from our observations on animal

reproduction, particularly of the chick from the egg, that it seems

superfluous to multiply illustrations.

There is, indeed, nothing in the animal body older or more excellent

than the blood; nor are the spirits which are distinguished from the

blood at any time found distinct from it; for the blood without heat or

spirit is no longer blood, but cruor or gore. “The blood,” says

Aristotle,[343] “is hot in a certain manner, in that, namely, in virtue

of which it exists as blood,--just as we speak of hot-water under a

single term; as subject, however, and in itself finally, blood is blood,

it is not _hot_: so that as blood is in a certain way hot _per se_, so

is it also in a certain way not hot _per se_: heat is in its essence or

nature, in the same way as whiteness is in the essence of a white man;

but where blood is by affection or passion, it is not hot _per se_.”

We physicians at this time designate that as spirit which Hippocrates

called _impetum faciens_, or moving power; implying by this whatever

attempts aught by its own proper effort, and causes motion with rapidity

and force, or induces action of any kind; in this sense we are

accustomed to speak of spirit of wine, spirit of vitriol, &c. And

therefore it is that physicians admit as many spirits as there are

principal parts or operations of the body, viz. animal, vital, natural,

visual, auditory, concoctive, generative, implanted, influent, &c. &c.

But the blood is the first produced and most principal part of the body,

endowed with each and all of these virtues, possessed of powers of

action beyond all the rest, and therefore, κατ’ ἐξοχὴ--in virtue of its

pre-eminence, meriting the title of spirit.

Scaliger, Fernelius, and others, giving less regard to the admirable

qualities of the blood, have imagined other spirits of an aerial or

ethereal nature, or composed of an ethereal or elementary matter, a

something more excellent and divine than the innate heat, the immediate

instrument of the soul, fitted for all the highest duties. Now their

principal motive for this was the consideration that the blood, as

composed of elements, could have no power of action beyond these

elements or the bodies compounded of them. They have, therefore, feigned

or imagined a spirit, different from the ingenerate heat, of celestial

origin and nature; a body of perfect simplicity, most subtile,

attenuated, mobile, rapid, lucid, ethereal, participant in the qualities

of the quintessence. They have not, however, anywhere demonstrated the

actual existence of such a spirit, or that it was superior to the

elements in its powers of action, or indeed that it could accomplish

more than the blood by itself. We, for our own parts, who use our simple

senses in studying natural things, have been unable anywhere to find

anything of the sort. Neither are there any cavities for the production

and preservation of such spirits, either in fact or presumed by their

authors. Fernelius, indeed, has these words:[344] “He who has not yet

completely mastered the matter and state of the ingenerate heat, let him

cast an eye upon the structure of the body, and turn to the arteries,

and contemplate the sinuses of the heart and the ventricles of the

brain. When he observes them empty, containing next to no fluid, and yet

feels that he must own such parts not made in vain, or without a design,

he will soon, I conceive, be brought to conclude that an extremely

subtile aura or vapour fills them during the life of the animal, and

which, as being of extreme lightness, vanished insensibly when the

creature died. It is for the sake of cherishing this aura that by

inspiration we take in air, which not only serves for the refrigeration

of the body, by a business that might be otherwise accomplished, but

further supplies a kind of nourishment.”

But we maintain that so long as an animal lives, the cavities of the

heart and the arteries are filled with blood. We further believe the

ventricles of the brain to be indifferently fitted for any so excellent

office, and that they are rather formed for secreting some

excrementitious matter. What shall we say, too, when we find the brain

of many animals unfurnished with ventricles? And supposing it were true

that any kind of air or vapour was found there, seeing that all nature

abhors a vacuum, still it does not seem over probable that it should be

of heavenly origin and possessed of such superlative virtues. But what

we admire most of all is that a spirit, the native of the skies, and

endowed with such admirable qualities, should be nourished by our common

and elementary air; especially when we see it maintained that the

elements can do nothing that is beyond their natural powers.

It is admitted, moreover, that the spirits are in a perpetual state of

flux, and most readily dissipated and corrupted; nor indeed can they

endure for an instant unless renovated by due supplies of their

appropriate nutriment,--they as much require incessant nourishing as the

primum vivens, or first animate atom of the body. What occasion is

there, then, I ask, for this extraneous inmate, for this ethereal heat?

when the blood is competent to perform all the offices ascribed to it,

and the spirits cannot separate from the blood even by a hair’s breadth

without destruction; without the blood, indeed, the spirits can neither

move nor penetrate anywhere as distinct and independent matters. And

whether they are engendered and are fed and increased, as some suppose,

from the thinner part of the blood, or from the primigenial moisture, as

others imagine, all still confess that they are nowhere to be found

apart from the blood, but are inseparably connected with it as the

aliment that sustains them, even as the flame of a lamp or candle is

inseparably connected with the oil or tallow that feeds it. The tenuity,

subtilty, mobility, &c. of the spirits, therefore, bring no kind of

advantage more than the blood, which it seems they constantly accompany,

already possesses. The blood consequently suffices, and is adequate to

be the immediate instrument of the soul, inasmuch as it is everywhere

present, and moves hither and thither with the greatest rapidity. Nor

can it be admitted that there are any other bodies or qualities of a

spiritual and incorporeal nature, or any more divine kinds of heat, such

as light, as Cæsar Cremoninus,[345] a great adept in the Aristotelian

philosophy, strenuously contends against Albertus that there are.

If it be said that these spirits reside in the primigenial moisture as

in their ultimate aliment, and flow from thence through the whole body

to nourish its several parts, they propound a simple impossibility, viz.

that the ingenerate heat, that primigenial element of the body,

nourished itself, yet serves for the nourishment of the body at large.

Upon such grounds the thing nourished and the thing that nourishes would

be one and the same, and itself would both nourish and be nourished;

which could in no way be effected; inasmuch as it is by no means

probable that the nourishment should ever be mixed with the thing

nourished, for things mixed must have equal powers and mutually act on

one another; and, according to Aristotle’s dictum, “where there is

nutrition, there there is no mixture.” But as nutrition takes place

everywhere, the nutriment is one thing, and that which is nourished by

it is another, and it is altogether indispensable that the one pass into

the other.

But as it is thought that the spirits, and the ultimate or primigenial

aliment, or something else, is contained in animals which acts in a

greater degree than the blood above the forces of the elements, we are

not sufficiently informed what is understood by the expression, “acting

above the forces of the elements;” neither are Aristotle’s words rightly

interpreted where he says,[346] “every virtue or faculty of the soul

appears to partake of another body more divine than those which are

called elements.... For there is in every seed a certain something which

causes it to be fruitful, viz. what is called heat, and that not fire or

any faculty of the kind, but a spirit such as is contained in semen and

frothy bodies; and the nature inherent in that spirit is responsive in

its proportions to the element of the stars. Wherefore fire engenders no

animal; neither is anything seen to be constituted of the dense, or

moist, or dry. But the heat of the sun and of animals, and not only that

which is stored up in semen, but even that of any excrementitious

matter, although diverse in nature, still contains a vital principle.

For the rest, it is obvious from this that the heat contained in animals

is not fire, neither does it derive its origin from fire.” Now I

maintain the same things of the innate heat and the blood; I say that

they are not fire, and neither do they derive their origin from fire.

They rather share the nature of some other, and that a more divine body

or substance. They act by no faculty or property of the elements; but as

there is a something inherent in the semen which makes it prolific, and

as, in producing an animal, it surpasses the power of the elements,--as

it is a spirit, namely, and the inherent nature of that spirit

corresponds to the essence of the stars,--so is there a spirit, or

certain force, inherent in the blood, acting superiorly to the powers of

the elements, very conspicuously displayed in the nutrition and

preservation of the several parts of the animal body; and the nature,

yea, the soul in this spirit and blood, is identical with the essence of

the stars. That the heat of the blood of animals during their lifetime,

therefore, is neither fire, nor derived from fire, is manifest, and

indeed is clearly demonstrated by our observations.

But that this may be made still more certain let me be permitted to

digress a little from my subject, and, in a few words, to show what is

meant by the word “spirit,” and what by the phrases “superior in action

to the forces of the elements,” “to have the properties of another body,

and that more divine than those bodies which are called elements,” and

“the nature inherent in this spirit which answers to the essence of the

stars.”

We have already had occasion to say something both of the nature of”

spirit” and “ the vital principle,” and we shall here enter into the

subject at greater length. There are three bodies--simple bodies--which

seem especially entitled to receive the name, at all events, to perform

the office of “spirit,” viz. fire, air, and water, each of which, by

reason of its ceaseless flux and motion, expressed by the words flame,

wind, and flood, appears to have the properties of life, or of some

other body. Flame is the flow of fire, wind the flow of air, stream or

flood the flow of water. Flame, like an animal, is self-motive,

self-nutrient, self-augmentative, and is the symbol of our life. It is

therefore that it is so universally brought into requisition in

religious ceremonies: it was guarded by priestesses and virgins in the

temples of Apollo and Vesta as a sacred thing, and from the remotest

antiquity has been held worthy of divine worship by the Persians and

other ancient nations; as if God were most conspicuous in flame, and

spoke to us from fire as he did to Moses of old. Air is also

appropriately spoken of as “spirit,” having received the title from the

act of respiration. Aristotle[347] himself admits, “that there is a kind

of life, and birth, and death of the winds.” Finally, we speak of a

running stream as “living water.”

These three, therefore, inasmuch as they have a kind of life, appear to

act superiorly to the forces of the element, and to share in a more

divine nature; they were, therefore, placed among the number of the

divinities by the heathen. When any excellent work or process appeared,

surpassing the powers of the naked elements, it was held as proceeding

from some more divine agent. “To act with power superior to the powers

of the elements,” therefore, and, on that account, “to share in the

properties of some more divine thing, which does not derive its origin

from the elements,” appear to have the same signification.

The blood, in like manner, “acts with powers superior to the powers of

the elements” in the fact of its existence, in the forms of primordial

and innate heat, in semen and spirit, and its producing all the other

parts of the body in succession; proceeding at all times with such

foresight and understanding, and with definite ends in view, as if it

employed reasoning in its acts. Now this it does not, in so far as it is

elementary, and as deriving its origin from fire, but in so far as it is

possessed of plastic powers and endowed with the gift of the vegetative

soul, as it is the primordial and innate heat, and the immediate and

competent instrument of life. Αίμα, τὸ ζωτικὸν τοῡ ἀνθρωπου: The blood

is the living principle of man, says Suidas; and the same thing is true

of all animals; an opinion which Virgil seems to have wished to express

when he says:

“Una eademque via sanguisque animusque sequuntur.”

And by one path the blood and life flowed out.

The blood, therefore, by reason of its admirable properties and powers,

is “spirit.” It is also celestial; for nature, the soul, that which

answers to the essence of the stars, is the inmate of the spirit, in

other words, it is something analogous to heaven, the instrument of

heaven, vicarious of heaven.

In this way all natural bodies fall to be considered under a twofold

point of view, viz. either as they are specially regarded, and are

comprehended within the limits of their own proper nature, or are viewed

as the instruments of some more noble agent and superior power. For as

regards their peculiar powers, there is, perhaps, no doubt but that all

things subject to generation by birth, and to death and decay, derive

their origin from the elements, and perform their offices agreeably to

their proper standard; but in so far as they are the instruments of a

more excellent agent, and are governed by that, not acting of their own

proper nature, but by the regimen of another; therefore is it, therein

is it, that they seem to participate with another and more divine body,

and to surpass the powers of the ordinary elements.

In the same way, too, is the blood the animal heat, in so far, namely,

as it is governed in its actions by the soul; for it is celestial as

subservient to heaven; and divine, because it is the instrument of God

the great and good. But this we have already spoken of above, where we

have shown that male and female were the instruments of the sun, heaven,

and Supreme Preserver, when they served for the generation of the more

perfect animals.

The inferior world, according to Aristotle, is so continuous and

connected with the superior orbits, that all its motions and changes

appear to take their rise and to receive direction from thence. In that

world, indeed, which the Greeks called Κόσμος from its order and beauty,

inferior and corruptible things wait upon superior and incorruptible

things; but all are still subservient to the will of the supreme,

omnipotent, and eternal Creator.

They, therefore, who think that nothing composed of the elements can

show powers of action superior to the forces exercised by these, unless

they at the same time partake of some other and more divine body, and on

this ground conceive the spirits they evoke as constituted partly of the

elements, partly of a certain ethereal and celestial substance--these

persons, I say, appear to me to reason indifferently. In the first place

you will scarcely find any elementary body which in acting does not

exceed its proper powers: air and water, the winds and the ocean, when

they waft navies to either India and round this globe, and often by

opposite courses, when they grind, bake, dig, pump, saw timber, sustain

fire, support some things, overwhelm others, and suffice for an infinite

variety of other and most admirable offices--who shall say that they do

not surpass the powers of the elements? In like manner what does not

fire accomplish? in the kitchen, in the furnace, in the laboratory, [in

the steam-engine], softening, hardening, melting, subliming, changing,

[and setting in motion], in an infinite variety of ways! What shall we

say of it when we see iron itself produced by its agency?--iron “that

breaks the stubborn soil, and shakes the earth with war!”--iron that in

the magnet (to which Thales therefore ascribed a soul) attracts other

iron, “subdues all other things, and seeks besides I know not what

inane,” as Pliny[348] says; for the steel needle only rubbed with the

loadstone still steadily points to the great cardinal points; and when

our clocks constantly indicate the hours of the day and night,--shall we

not admit that all of these partake of something else, and that of a

more divine nature, than the elements? And if in the domain and rule of

nature so many excellent operations are daily effected surpassing the

powers of the things themselves, what shall we not think possible within

the pale and regimen of nature, of which all art is but imitation? And

if, as ministers of man, they effect such admirable ends, what, I ask,

may we not expect of them, when they are instruments in the hand of God?

We must, therefore, make the distinction and say, that whilst no primary

agent or prime efficient produces effects beyond its powers, every

instrumental agent may exceed its own proper powers in action; for it

acts not merely by its own virtue, but by the virtue of a superior

efficient.

They, consequently, who refuse such remarkable faculties to the blood,

and go to heaven to fetch down I know not what spirits, to which they

ascribe these divine virtues, cannot know, or at all events, cannot

consider that the process of generation, and even of nutrition, which

indeed is a kind of generation, for the sake of which they are so lavish

of admirable properties, surpasses the powers of those very spirits

themselves, nor of the spirits only, but of the vegetative, aye, even

the sensitive, and I will venture to add, the rational soul. Powers,

did I say? It far exceeds even any estimate we can form of the rational

soul; for the nature of generation, and the order that prevails in it,

are truly admirable and divine, beyond all that thought can conceive or

understanding comprehend.

That it may, however, more clearly appear that the remarkable virtues

which the learned attribute to the spirits and the innate heat belong to

the blood alone, besides what has already been spoken of as conspicuous

in the egg before any trace of the embryo appears, as well as in the

perfect and adult fœtus, the few following observations are made by way

of further illustration, and for the sake of the diligent inquirer. The

blood considered absolutely and by itself, without the veins, in so far

as it is an elementary fluid, and composed of several parts--of thin and

serous particles, and of thick and concrete particles called

cruor--possesses but few, and these not very obvious virtues. Contained

within the veins, however, inasmuch as it is an integral part of the

body, and is animated, regenerative, and the immediate instrument and

principal seat of the soul, inasmuch, moreover, as it seems to partake

of the nature of another more divine body, and is transfused by divine

animal heat, it obtains remarkable and most excellent powers, and is

analogous to the essence of the stars. In so far as it is spirit, it is

the hearth, the Vesta, the household divinity, the innate heat, the sun

of the microcosm, the fire of Plato; not because like common fire it

lightens, burns, and destroys, but because by a vague and incessant

motion it preserves, nourishes, and aggrandizes itself. It farther

deserves the name of spirit, inasmuch as it is radical moisture, at once

the ultimate and the proximate and the primary aliment, more abundant

than all the other parts; preparing for and administering to these the

same nutriment with which itself is fed, ceaselessly permeating the

whole body, cherishing and keeping alive the parts which it has

fashioned and added to itself, not otherwise assuredly than the superior

stars, the sun and moon especially, in maintaining their own proper

orbits, continually vivify the stars that are beneath them.

Since the blood acts, then, with forces superior to the forces of the

elements, and exerts its influence through these forces or virtues, and

is the instrument of the Great Workman, no one can ever sufficiently

extol its admirable, its divine faculties. In the first place, and

especially, it is possessed by a soul which is not only vegetative, but

sensitive and motive also; it penetrates everywhere and is ubiquitous;

abstracted, the soul or the life too is gone, so that the blood does not

seem to differ in any respect from the soul or the life itself (anima);

at all events, it is to be regarded as the substance whose act is the

soul or the life. Such, I say, is the soul, which is neither wholly

corporeal nor yet wholly incorporeal; which is derived in part from

abroad, and is partly produced at home; which in one way is part of the

body, but in another way is the beginning and cause of all that is

contained in the animal body, viz. nutrition, sense, and motion, and

consequently of life and of death alike; for whatever is nourished, is

itself vivified, and _vice versa_. In like manner, that which is

abundantly nourished increases; what is not sufficiently supplied

shrinks; what is perfectly nourished preserves its health; what is not

perfectly nourished falls into disease. The blood, therefore, even as

the soul, is to be regarded as the cause and author of youth and old

age, of sleep and waking, and also of respiration; all the more and

especially as the first instrument in natural things contains the

internal moving cause within itself. It therefore comes to the same

thing, whether we say that the soul and the blood, or the blood with the

soul, or the soul with the blood, performs all the acts in the animal

organism.

We are too much in the habit, neglecting things, of worshipping specious

names. The word blood, signifying a substance, which we have before our

eyes, and can touch, has nothing of grandiloquence about it; but before

such titles as spirits, and calidum innatum or innate heat, we stand

agape. But the mask removed, as the error disappears, so does the idle

admiration. The celebrated stone, so much vaunted for its virtues by

Pipinus to Migaldus, seems to have filled not only him but also Thuanus,

an excellent historian, with wonder and admiration. Let me be allowed to

append the riddle: “Lately,” says he, “there was brought from the East

Indies to our king a stone, which we have seen, wonderfully radiant with

light and effulgence, the whole of which, as if burning and in flames,

was resplendent with an incredible brilliancy of light. Tossed hither

and thither, it filled the ambient air with beams that were scarcely

bearable by any eyes. It was also extremely impatient of the earth; if

you essayed to cover it, it forthwith and of itself burst forth with

violence, and mounted on high. No man could by any art contain or

inclose it in any confined place; on the contrary, it appears to delight

in free and spacious places. It is of the highest purity, of the

greatest brightness, and is without stain or blemish. It has no certain

shape, but a shape uncertain and changing every moment. Of the most

consummate beauty, it suffers no one to touch it; and if you persist too

long or obstinately, it will do you injury, as I have observed it

repeatedly to do in no trifling measure. If anything be by chance taken

from it by persevering efforts, it is (strange to say) made nothing less

thereby. Its custodier adds farther, that its virtues and powers are

useful in a great variety of ways, and even--especially to

kings--indispensably necessary; but these he declines to reveal without

being first paid a large reward.” The author might have added of this

_stone_ that it was neither hard nor soft, and exhibited a variety of

forms and colours, and had a singular trick of trembling and

palpitating, and like an animal--although itself inanimate--consumed a

large quantity of food every day for its nutrition or sustenance.

Farther, that he had heard from men worthy of credit, that this stone

had formerly fallen from heaven to earth; that it was the frequent cause

of thunder and lightning, and was still occasionally engendered from the

solar beams refracted through water.

Who would not admire so remarkable a stone, or believe that it acted

with a force superior to the forces of the elements, that it

participated in the nature of another body, and possessed an ethereal

spirit? especially when he found that it responded in its proportions to

the essence of the sun. But with Fernelius[349] for Œdipus, we find the

whole enigma resolving itself into “Flame.”

In the same way, did I paint the blood under the garb of a fable, and

gave it the title of the philosopher’s stone, and propose all its

wonderful faculties and operations in enigmatical language, many would

doubtless think a great deal of it; they would readily believe that it

could act with powers superior to those of the elements, and they would

not unwillingly allow it to be possessed of another and more divine

body.

EXERCISE THE SEVENTY-SECOND.

_Of the primigenial moisture._

We have now dignified the blood with the title of the innate heat; with

like propriety, we believe, that the fluid which we have called the

crystalline colliquament, from which the fœtus and its parts primarily

and immediately arise, may be designated the radical and primigenial

moisture. There is certainly nothing in the generation of animals to

which this title can with better right be given.

We call this the radical moisture, because from it arises the first

particle of the embryo, the blood, to wit; and all the other posthumous

parts arise from it as from a root; and they are procreated and

nourished, and grow and are preserved by the same matter.

We also call it primigenial, because it is first engendered in every

animal organism, and is, as it were, the foundation of the rest; as may

be seen in the egg, in which it presents itself after a brief period of

incubation, as the first work of the inherent fecundity and reproductive

power.

This fluid is also the most simple, pure, and unadulterated body, in

which all the parts of the pullet are present potentially, though none

of them are there actually. It appears that nature has conceded to it

the same qualities which are usually ascribed to first matter common to

all things, viz. that potentially it be capable of assuming all forms,

but have itself no form in fact. So the crystalline humour of the eye,

in order that it might be susceptible of all colours, is itself

colourless; and in like manner are the media or organs of each of the

senses destitute of all the other qualities of sensible things: the

organs of smelling and hearing, and the air which ministers to them, are

without smell and sound; the saliva of the tongue and mouth is also

tasteless.

And it is upon this argument that they mainly rely who maintain the

possibility of an incorporeal intellect, viz. because it is susceptible

of all forms without matter; and as the hand is called the “instrument

of instruments,” so is the intellect called “the form of forms,” being

itself immaterial and wholly without form; it is, therefore, said to be

possible or potential, but not passible.

This fluid, or one analogous to it, appears also to be the ultimate

aliment from which Aristotle taught that the semen, or geniture, as he

calls it, is produced.[350] I say the ultimate aliment, called dew by

the Arabians, with which all the parts of the body are bathed and

moistened. For in the same way as this dew, by ulterior condensation and

adhesion, becomes alible gluten and cambium, whence the parts of the

body are constituted, so, mutatis mutandis, in the commencement of

generation and nutrition, from gluten liquefied and rendered thinner is

formed the nutritious dew: from the white of the egg is produced the

colliquament under discussion, the radical moisture and primigenial dew.

The thing indeed is identical in either instance, if any credit be

accorded to our observations; and in fact neither philosophers nor

physicians deny that an animal is nourished by the same matter out of

which it is formed, and is increased by that from which it was

engendered. The nutritious dew, therefore, differs from the colliquament

or primigenial moisture only in the relation of prior and posterior; the

one is concocted and prepared by the parents, the other by the embryo

itself, both juices, however, being the proximate and immediate aliment

of animals; not indeed “first and second,” according to that dictum,

“contraria ex contrariis,” but ultimate, as I have said, and as

Aristotle himself admonishes us, according to that other dictum,

“similia ex similibus augeri,” “like is necessarily increased by its

like.” There is in either fluid a proximate force, in virtue of which,

no obstacles intervening, it will pass spontaneously, or by the law of

nature, into every part of the animal body.

Such being the state of the question, it is obvious that all controversy

about the matter of animals and their nourishment may be settled without

difficulty. For as some believe that the semen or matter emitted in

intercourse is taken up from every part of the body, so do they derive

from this the resemblance of the offspring to the parents. Aristotle has

these words: “Against the opinion of the ancients, it may be said that

as they avow the semen to be a derivative from all parts else, we

believe the semen to be disposed of itself to form every part; and

whilst they call it a colliquament, we are rather inclined to regard it

as an excrement” (he had, however, said shortly before that he entitled

excrement the remains of the nourishment, and colliquament that which is

secreted from the growth by a preternatural resolution); “for that which

arrives last, and is the excrement of what is final, is in all

probability of the same nature; in the same way as painters have very

commonly some remains of colours, which are identical with those they

have applied upon their canvass; but anything that is consuming and

melting away is corrupt and degenerate. Another argument that the

seminal fluid is not a colliquament, but an excrement, is this: that

animals of larger growth are less prolific, smaller creatures more

fruitful. Now there must be a larger quantity of colliquament in larger

than in smaller animals, but less excrement; for as there must be a

large consumption of nourishment in a large body, so must there be a

small production of excrement. Farther, there is no place provided by

nature for receiving and storing colliquament; it flows off by the way

that is most open to it; but there are receptacles for all the natural

excrements--the bowels for the dry excrements, the bladder for the

moist; the stomach for matters useful; the genital organs, the uterus,

the mammæ for seminal matter--in which several places they collect and

run together.” After this he goes on by a variety of arguments to prove

that the seminal matter from which the fœtus is formed is the same as

that which is prepared for the nutrition of the parts at large. As if,

should one require some pigment from a painter, he certainly would not

go to scrape off what he had already laid on his canvass, but would

supply the demand from his store, or from what he had over from his

work, which was still of the same nature as that which he might have

taken away from his picture. So and in like manner the excrement of the

ultimate nutriment, or the remainder of the gluten and dew, is carried

to the genital organs and there deposited; and this view is most

accordant with the production of eggs by the hen.

The medical writers, too, who hold all the parts to be originally formed

from the spermatic fluid, and consequently speak of these under the

name of spermatic parts, say that the semen is formed from the ultimate

nourishment, which with Aristotle they believe to be the blood, being

produced by the virtue of the genital organs, and constituting the

“matter” of the fœtus. Now it is obvious enough that the egg is produced

by the mother and her ultimate nutriment, the nutritious dew, to wit.

That clear part of the egg, therefore, that primigenial, or rather

antegenial colliquament, is more truly to be reputed the semen of the

cock, although it is not projected in the act of intercourse, but is

prepared before intercourse, or is gathered together after this, as

happens in many animals, and as will perhaps be stated more at length by

and by, because the geniture of the male, according to Aristotle,

coagulates.

When I see, therefore, all the parts formed and increasing from this one

moisture, as “matter,” and from a primitive root, and the reasons

already given combine in persuading us that this ought to be so, I can

scarcely refrain from taunting and pushing to extremity the followers of

Empedocles and Hippocrates, who believed all similar bodies to be

engendered as mixtures by association of the four contrary elements, and

to become corrupted by their disjunction; nor should I less spare

Democritus and the Epicurean school that succeeded him, who compose all

things of congregations of atoms of diverse figure. Because it was an

error of theirs in former times, as it is a vulgar error at the present

day, to believe that all similar bodies are engendered from diverse or

heterogeneous matters. For on this footing, nothing even to the lynx’s

eye would be similar, one, the same, and continuous; the unity would be

apparent only, a kind of congeries or heap--a congregation or collection

of extremely small bodies; nor would generation differ in any respect

from a [mechanical] aggregation and arrangement of particles.

But neither in the production of animals, nor in the generation of any

other “similar” body (whether it were of animal parts, or of plants,

stones, minerals, &c.), have I ever been able to observe any

congregation of such a kind, or any divers miscibles pre-existing for

union in the work of reproduction. For neither, in so far at least as I

have had power to perceive, or as reason will carry me, have I ever been

able to trace any “similar” parts, such as membranes, flesh, fibres,

cartilage, bone, &c., produced in such order, or as coexistent, that

from these, as the elements of animal bodies, conjoined organs or limbs,

and finally, the entire animal, should be compounded. But, as has been

already said, the first rudiment of the body is a mere homogeneous and

pulpy jelly, not unlike a concrete mass of spermatic fluid; and from

this, under the law of generation, altered, and at the same time split

or multifariously divided, as by a divine fiat, from an inorganic an

organic mass results; this is made bone, this muscle or nerve, this a

receptacle for excrementitious matter, &c.; from a similar a dissimilar

is produced; out of one thing of the same nature several of diverse and

contrary natures; and all this by no transposition or local movement, as

a congregation of similar particles, or a separation of heterogeneous

particles is effected under the influence of heat, but rather by the

segregation of homogeneous than the union of heterogeneous particles.

And I believe that the same thing takes place in all generation, so that

similar bodies have no mixed elements prior to themselves, but rather

exist before their elements (these, according to Empedocles and

Aristotle, being fire, air, earth, and water; according to chemists,

salt, sulphur, and mercury; according to Democritus, certain atoms), as

being naturally more perfect than these. There are, I say, both mixed

and compound bodies prior to any of the so called elements, into which

they are resolved, or in which they end. They are resolved, namely, into

these elements according to reason rather than in fact. The so-called

elements, therefore, are not prior to those things that are engendered,

or that originate, but are posterior rather--they are relics or

remainders rather than principles. Neither Aristotle himself nor any one

else has ever demonstrated the separate existence of the elements in the

nature of things, or that they were the principles of “similar” bodies.

The philosopher,[351] indeed, when he proceeds to prove that there are

elements, still seems uncertain whether the conclusion ought to be that

they exist _in esse_, or only _in posse_; he is of opinion that in

natural things they are present in power rather than in action; and

therefore does he assert, from the division, separation, and solution of

things, that there are elements. It is, however, an argument of no

great cogency to say that natural bodies are primarily produced, or

composed of those things into which they are ultimately resolved; for

upon this principle some things would come out composed, of glass,

ashes, and smoke, into which we see them finally reduced by fire; and as

artificial distillation clearly shows that a great variety of vapours

and waters of different species can be drawn from so many different

bodies, the number of elements would have to be increased to infinity.

Nor has any one among the philosophers said that the bodies which,

dissolved by art, are held pure and indivisible in their species, are

elements of greater simplicity than the air, water, and earth, which we

perceive by our senses, which we are familiar with through our eyes.

Nor, to conclude, do we see aught in the shape of miscible matter

naturally engendered from fire; and it is perhaps impossible that it

should be so, since fire, like that which is alive, is in a perpetual

state of fluxion, and seeks for food by which it may be nourished and

kept in being; in conformity with the words of Aristotle,[352] that

“Fire is only nourished, and is especially remarkable in this.” But what

is nourished cannot itself be mingled with its nutriment. Whence it

follows that it is impossible fire should be miscible. For mixture,

according to Aristotle, is the union of altered miscibles, in which one

thing is not transformed into another, but two things, severally active

and passive, into a third thing. Generation, however, especially

generation by metamorphosis, is the distribution of one similar thing

having undergone change into several others. Nor are mixed similar

bodies said to be generated from the elements, but to be constituted by

them in some certain way, solvent forces residing in them at the same

time.

These considerations, however, properly belong to the section of

Physiology, which treats of the elements and temperaments, where it will

be our business to speak of them more at large.

ON PARTURITION.

On generation follows parturition, that process, viz. by which the fœtus

comes into the world and breathes the external air. I have, therefore,

thought it well worth while, and within the scope of my design, to treat

briefly of this subject. With Fabricius, then, I shall consider the

causes, the manner, and the seasons of this process, as well as the

circumstances which both precede and follow it. The circumstances which

occur immediately previous to birth, and which, in women especially,

indicate that the act of parturition is not far distant, are, on the one

hand, such a preparation and arrangement on the part of the mother as

may enable her to get rid of her offspring; and on the other, such a

disposition of the fœtus as may best facilitate its expulsion.

With respect to the latter, viz. the position of the fœtus, Fabricius

says,[353] “that it is disposed in a globular form and bent upon itself,

in order that its extremities and prominent points generally may not

injure the uterus and the containing membranes; another reason being

that it may be packed in as small a space as possible.” For my own part,

I cannot think that these are the reasons why the limbs of the fœtus are

always kept in the same position. Swimming and moving about, as it does,

in water, it extends itself in every direction, and so turns and twists

itself that occasionally it becomes entangled in a marvellous manner in

its own navel-string. The truth is, that all animals, whilst they are at

rest or asleep, fold up their limbs in such a way as to form an oval or

globular figure: so in like manner embryos, passing as they do the

greater part of their time in sleep, dispose their limbs in the position

in which they are formed, as being most natural and best adapted for

their state of rest. So too the infant in utero is generally found

disposed after this manner: the knees are drawn up towards the abdomen,

the legs flexed, the feet crossed, and the hands directed to the head,

one of them usually resting on the temples or ears, the other on the

chin, in which situation white spots are discernible on the skin as the

result of friction; the spine, moreover, is curved into a circle, and

the neck being bowed, the head falls upon the knees. In such a position

is the embryo usually found, as that which we naturally take in sleep;

the head being situated superiorly, and the face usually turned towards

the back of the mother. A short time, however, before birth the head is

bent downwards towards the orifice of the uterus, and the fœtus, as it

were, in search of an outlet, dives to the bottom. Thus Aristotle:[354]

“All animals naturally come forth with the head foremost; but cross and

foot presentations are unnatural.” This, however, does not hold

universally; but as the position in utero varies, so too does the mode

of exit; this may be observed in the case of dogs, swine, and other

multiparous animals. The human fœtus even has not always the same

position; and this is well known to pregnant women, who feel its

movements in very different parts of the uterus, sometimes in the upper

part, sometimes in the lower, or on either side.

In like manner the uterus, when the term of gestation is completed,

descends lower (in the pelvis), the whole organ becomes softer, and its

orifice patent. The “waters” also, as they are vulgarly called,

“gather;” that is, a portion of the chorion, in which the watery matter

is contained, gets in front of the fœtus, and falls from the uterus into

the vagina; at the same time the neighbouring parts become relaxed and

dilatable; in addition to which the cartilaginous attachments of the

pelvic bones so lose their rigidity that the bones themselves yield

readily to the passage of the fœtus, and thus greatly increase the area

of the hypogastric region. When all these circumstances concur, it is

quite clear that delivery is not far distant. Nature, in her provident

care, contrives this dilatation of the parts in order that the fœtus may

come into the world like the ripe fruit of a tree; just as she fills the

breasts of the mother with milk that the being who is soon to enjoy an

independent existence may have whereon to subsist. These, then, are the

circumstances which immediately precede birth; and thus it happens that

the presence of milk has especially been regarded as a sign of

approaching delivery--milk, I mean, of a character suitable for the

sustenance of the offspring; and this, according to Aristotle,[355] is

only visible at the period of birth; it is therefore never observed

before the seventh month of pregnancy.

Fabricius[356] maintains that on the subject of parturition there were

two special heads of inquiry, viz. the time at which and the manner in

which the process took place. Under the first of these heads he

considers the term of utero-gestation; under the second, the way in

which the fœtus comes into the world.

Aristotle[357] thought that the term of utero-gestation varied much.

“There is,” he says, “a certain definite term to each animal, determined

in the majority of cases by the animal’s duration of life; for it

follows of necessity that a longer period is required for the production

of the longer-lived animals.” He attributes, however, the chief cause to

the size of the animal; “for it is scarcely possible,” he continues,

“that the vast frames of animals or of aught else can be brought to

perfection in a short period of time. Hence it is that in the case of

mares and animals of cognate species, though their duration of life is

small, their term of utero-gestation is considerable; and thus the

elephant carries its young for the space of two years, the reason being

its enormous size, for each animal has a definite magnitude, beyond

which it cannot pass.” I would add, that the material of which each is

formed has also its fixed limit in point of quantity. He says, moreover,

“There is good reason why animals should have the periods of gestation,

generation, and duration of life in certain cycles--I mean by cycle, a

day, night, month, and year, and the time which is described by these;

also the motions of the moon--for these are the common origin of

generation to all. For it is in accordance with reason that the cycles

of inferior things should follow those of the higher.” Nature, then, has

decreed that the birth and death of animals should have their period and

limit after this manner.

Just as the birth of animals depends on the course of the sun and moon,

so have they various seasons for copulation and different terms of

utero-gestation, these last being longer or shorter according to

circumstances. “In the human species alone,” says the philosopher in the

same part of his works, “is the period of utero-gestation subject to

great irregularity. In other animals there is one fixed time, but in man

several; for the human fœtus is expelled both in the seventh and tenth

months, and at any period of pregnancy between these; moreover, when the

birth takes place in the eighth month, it is possible for the infant to

live.” In the majority of animals there is a distinct season for

bringing forth their young; this is generally found to be in the spring,

when the sun returns, but in many species it is in the summer, and in

some in the autumn, as is the case with the cartilaginous fishes. Hence

it is that animals, as the time of labour approaches, seek their

accustomed haunts, and provide a safe and comfortable shelter where they

may bring forth and rear their young. Hence, too, the title

“bird-winds,” applied to those gales which prevail toward the beginning

of spring, the word owing its origin to the fact of certain birds at

that period of the year availing themselves of these winds to accomplish

their migrations. In like manner stated seasons are observed by those

fishes which congregate in myriads in certain places for the purpose of

rearing their young. Moreover, in the spring, as soon as caterpillars

fall under our notice (their ova, as may be observed by the way, like to

invisible atoms, being for the most part carried by the winds, and not

owing their origin, as commonly supposed, to spontaneous generation, or

to be looked upon as the result of putrefaction), straightway the trees

put forth their buds, soon to be devoured by these creatures; and these

in their turn fall victims to birds innumerable, and are carried to the

nest as food for the young brood. So constantly does this hold, that

whenever strange species of caterpillars fall under notice, at the same

time we are sure to see some rare and foreign birds, as if the latter

had chased the former from some remote corner of the earth. Now in both

of these classes of creatures the time for bringing forth their young is

the same. Physicians, too, when these phenomena occur, are enabled to

predict the approach of sundry strange diseases. Bees bring forth in the

month of May, when honey abounds; wasps in the summer, when the fruit is

ripe; and this is analogous to what takes place in viviparous animals,

who produce their young at the period when their milk is best adapted

for their offspring. But other animals of the non-migratory classes, in

the same way, at stated seasons seek a place to deposit their young as

they do a store of food. And thus it results that the countryman is able

to decide what are the proper seasons for ploughing, sowing, and getting

in his harvest, forming his opinion chiefly from the approach of flocks

of birds, and especially of the seminivora. There are, however, some

animals in whom there is no fixed time for production, and this is

chiefly the case with those which are called domestic, and live with the

human species. These both copulate and produce their young at uncertain

seasons, and the reason probably is to be sought for in the larger

quantity of food they consume, and the consequent inordinate salacity.

But in these, as in the human species, the process of parturition is

often difficult and dangerous.

There are other animals also on whom the course of the moon has

influence, and which consequently copulate and bring forth their young

at certain periods of the year--rabbits, mice, and the human female may

be instanced. “For the moon,” observes Plutarch,[358] “when half full,

is represented as greatly efficacious in shortening the pains of labour,

and this she effects by moderating and relaxing the humours--hence, I

think, those surnames of Diana are derived, Locheia, i. e. the tutelar

deity of childbirth, and Eilytheia, otherwise Lucina; for Diana and the

moon are synonymous.”

“In all other animals,” says Pliny,[359] “there are stated seasons and

periods for production and utero-gestation; in man alone are they

undetermined.” And this is, to a great extent, true; for in his case,

although nature has laid down for the most part certain boundaries, yet

there is sometimes a vast difference in individuals, and instances are

recorded of women bringing forth viable children, some in the seventh,

and others in the fourteenth month. Further, although Aristotle[360]

asserts “that the majority of eight months’ children in Greece die,” he

still admits “that they survive in Egypt and in some other countries,

where the women have easy labours;” and although he says “that children

born before the seventh month can under no circumstances survive, and

that the seventh month is the first in which anything like maturity

exists, and that the feebleness of children born even then is such as to

make it necessary to wrap them in wool,” he still allows “that these are

viable.” Franciscus Valesius tells us of a girl in his time, who,

although a five months’ child, had arrived at the age of twelve years.

Adrianus Spigelius[361] also records the case of a certain courier, “who

proved to the satisfaction of all, on the public testimony of the city

of Middleburgh, that he was born at the commencement of the sixth month,

and that his frame was so slight and fragile that his mother found it

necessary to wrap him up in cotton until such times as he was able to

bear the ordinary dress of infants.” Avicenna[362] also states that a

sixth months’ child is very capable of surviving. In like manner it is

proved, both by ancient and modern authorities, that children may live

who are born after the completion of the eleventh month. “We are told,”

says Pliny,[363] “by Massurius, that when his inheritance was claimed by

the next heir, Lucius Papyrius the prætor gave the decision against the

claimant, although, by his mother’s account, Massurius was a thirteen

months’ child--the ground of the judgment being that the term of

utero-gestation had not been as yet accurately determined. There was

indeed, not so long since, a woman in our own country who carried her

child more than sixteen months, during ten of which she distinctly felt

the movements of the fœtus, as indeed did others, and at last brought

forth a living infant. These are rare contingencies, I will allow; and

therefore it is hardly fair of Spigelius to blame Ulpianus the lawyer

because he regarded as legitimate no child born after the completion of

the tenth month. Both laws and precepts of art, we must remember, have

reference to the general rules of vital processes. Besides, it is

impossible to deny that many women, either for purposes of gain or from

fear of punishment, have simulated pregnancy, and not hesitated to swear

to the truth of their assertion:--others again have frequently been

deceived, and fancied themselves pregnant, whilst the uterus has

contained no product of conception. On this point Aristotle’s[364] words

may be quoted: “The exact period at which conception takes place in the

case of those born after the eleventh month can scarcely be ascertained.

Women themselves do not know the time at which they conceive; for the

uterus is often affected by flatulent disorders, and if under these

circumstances conception takes place, women imagine this flatulency to

mark the period of conception, because they have recognized certain

symptoms which accompany actual conception.”

In the case of other women in whom the fœtus has died in the third or

fourth month, then putrefied, and come away in the form of fetid lochial

discharges, we have known superfœtation to take place; and yet these

same women have persisted that they have brought forth their children

after the completion of the fourteenth month. “It happens sometimes,”

says Aristotle,[365] “that an abortion takes place, and ten or twelve

products of superfœtation come away. But if the (second) conception

takes place soon after (the first), the woman goes to the full time with

the second, and brings forth both as twins. This was said to have been

the case in the fable of Iphicles and Hercules. And it is a subject

which admits of proof; for it is known of a woman that she brought forth

one child resembling her husband, and another like a man with whom she

had had adulterous intercourse. Another woman became pregnant of twins,

and conceived another by superfœtation. Her labour came on, and she

brought forth the twins well formed and at their proper time, whilst the

third child was at the fifth month, and so died immediately.”

A certain maid-servant being gotten with child by her master, to conceal

her disgrace, fled to London in the month of September; here she was

delivered, and returned home with her health restored. In December,

however, the birth of another child, conceived by superfœtation,

proclaimed to the world the fault she had committed. “It happened to

another woman,” adds the philosopher, “to be delivered of a seven

months’ child, and afterwards of twins at the full term, the single

child dying, the twins surviving. Other women also, having become

pregnant of twins, have miscarried of one, and borne the other to the

full term.” It is very easy to understand how, if the earlier or later

product of superfœtation come away after three or four months have

elapsed, that mistakes may be made in calculating the subsequent months,

especially by credulous and ignorant women. We have sometimes observed,

both in women and other animals, the product of conception perish, and

come away gradually in the form of a thin fluid, somewhat resembling

fluor albus. Not long since a woman in London, after an abortion of this

kind, conceived anew, and brought forth a child at the proper period.

Subsequently, however, after a lapse of some months, as she was engaged

in her ordinary duties, without any pain or uneasiness, there came away

piecemeal some dark bones belonging to the fœtus of which she had

formerly miscarried. I was able to recognize in some of the fragments

portions of the spine, femur, and other bones.

I am acquainted with a young woman, the daughter of a physician with

whom I am very intimate, who experienced in her own person all the usual

symptoms of pregnancy; after the fourteenth week, being healthy and

sprightly, she felt the movements of the child within the uterus,

calculated the time at which she expected her delivery, and when she

thought, from further indications, that this was at hand, prepared the

bed, cradle, and all other matters ready for the event. But all was in

vain. Lucina refused to answer her prayers; the motions of the fœtus

ceased; and by degrees, without inconvenience, as the abdomen had

increased so it diminished; she remained, however, barren ever after. I

am acquainted also with a noble lady who had borne more than ten

children, and in whom the catamenia never disappeared except as the

result of impregnation. Afterwards, however, being married to a second

husband, she considered herself pregnant, forming her judgment not only

from the symptoms on which she usually relied, but also from the

movements of the child, which were frequently felt both by herself and

her sister, who occupied the same bed with her. No arguments of mine

could divest her of this belief. The symptoms depended on flatulence and

fat. Hence the best ascertained signs of pregnancy have sometimes

deceived not only ignorant women, but experienced midwives, and even

skilful and accurate physicians--so that as mistakes are liable to

arise, not only from deception on the part of the women themselves, but

also from the erroneous tokens of pregnancy, I should say that no rule

is to be rashly laid down with respect to births taking place before the

seventh or after the fourteenth month.

Unquestionably the ordinary term of utero-gestation is that which we

believe was kept in the womb of his mother by our Saviour Christ, of men

the most perfect; counting, viz. from the festival of the Annunciation,

in the month of March, to the day of the blessed Nativity, which we

celebrate in December. Prudent matrons, calculating after this rule, as

long as they note the day of the month in which the catamenia usually

appear, are rarely out of their reckoning; but after ten lunar months

have elapsed, fall in labour, and reap the fruit of their womb the very

day on which the catamenia would have appeared, had impregnation not

taken place.

As regards the causes of labour, Fabricius, besides that of Galen[366]

(who held “that the fœtus was retained in utero until it was

sufficiently grown and nourished to take food by the mouth,” according

to which theory weakly children ought to remain in utero longer than

others, which they do not), gives another and a better reason, viz. “the

necessity the fœtus feels for more perfectly cooling itself by

respiration, since the child breathes immediately on birth, but does not

take food by the mouth. This is not only the case,” he continues, “in

man and quadrupeds, but has been particularly observed in birds: these,

small as they are, and furnished as yet with but tender bills, peck

through the egg-shell at the point where they have need of respiration;

and they do this rather through want of breath than of food, since the

instant they quit the shell the function of respiration begins, whilst

they remain without eating for two days, or longer.” This point,

however, whether the object of respiration be really to “cool” the

animal, shall be discussed elsewhere at greater length.

In the mean time I would propose this question to the learned--How does

it happen that the fœtus continues in its mother’s womb after the

seventh month? seeing that when expelled after this epoch, not only does

it breathe, but without respiration cannot survive one little hour;

whilst, as I before stated, if it remain in utero, it lives in health

and vigour more than two months longer without the aid of respiration at

all. To state my meaning more plainly--how is it that if the fœtus is

expelled with the membranes unbroken, it can survive some hours without

risk of suffocation; whilst the same fœtus, removed from its membranes,

if air has once entered the lungs, cannot afterwards live a moment

without it, but dies instantly? Surely this cannot be from want of

“cooling,” for in difficult labours it often happens that the fœtus is

retained in the passages many hours without the possibility of

breathing, yet is found to be alive; when, however, it is once born and

has breathed, if you deprive it of air it dies at once. In like manner

children have been removed alive from the uterus by the Cæsarean section

many hours after the death of the mother; buried as they are within the

membranes, they have no need of air; but as soon as they have once

breathed, although they be returned immediately within the membranes,

they perish if deprived of it. If any one will carefully attend to these

circumstances, and consider a little more closely the nature of air, he

will, I think, allow that air is given neither for the “cooling” nor the

nutrition of animals; for it is an established fact, that if the fœtus

has once respired, it may be more quickly suffocated than if it had been

entirely excluded from the air: it is as if heat were rather enkindled

within the fœtus than repressed by the influence of the air.

Thus much, by the way, on the subject of respiration; hereafter,

perhaps, I may treat of it at greater length. As the arguments on either

side are very equally balanced, it is a question of the greatest

difficulty.

To return to parturition. Besides the reasons alluded to above, viz.

“the necessity for respiration and the want of nourishment,” Fabricius

gives another; he says, “that the weight of the fœtus becomes so great

as to exert considerable pressure, and the bulk such that the uterus is

unable to retain it, added to which the quantity of excrementitious

matter is so much increased that it cannot be contained by the

membranes.”[367]

Now it has been shown above that the uterine humours are not

excrementitious. Nor do the weight and bulk of the fœtus help us to a

more probable explanation; for the fœtus suspended in water weighs but

slightly on the placenta or uterus; besides which some nine months’

children are very small, much less in fact than many fœtuses of eight

months, nevertheless they do not abide longer in the womb. And as to

weight, any twins of eight months are far heavier than a single nine

months’ child; yet they are not expelled before nine months are

completed. Nor do we find a better reason in “want of nutriment;” twins,

and even more children, are abundantly supplied with support up to the

full term; and the milk which after delivery is sufficient for the

nourishment of the child, could equally well, if transferred to the

uterus, nourish the fœtus there.

I should rather attribute the birth of the child to the following

reason--that the juices within the amnion, hitherto admirably adapted

for nutriment, at that particular period either fail or become

contaminated by excrementitious matter. I have touched on this subject

before. The variation in the term of utero-gestation, occurring as it

does chiefly in the human species, I believe to depend on the habits of

life, feebleness of body, and on the various affections of the mind. And

thus in the case of domesticated animals, owing to their indolence and

overfeeding, the seasons both of copulation and production are less

fixed and certain than in the wilder tribes. So women in robust health

usually experience easy and rapid labours; the contrary holding good in

those whose constitutions are shattered by disease. For the same thing

befalls them that happens to plants, the seeds and fruits of which come

later and less frequently to perfection in cold climates than in those

where the soil is good and the sun powerful. Thus oranges in this

country usually remain on the tree two years before they arrive at

maturity; and figs, which in Italy ripen two or three times annually,

scarcely come to perfection in our climate:--the same thing happens to

the fruit of the womb; it depends on the abundance or deficiency of

nutriment, on the strength or weakness of body, and on the right or

wrong ordering of life with reference to what physicians call the

“non-naturals,” whether the child arrives sooner or later at maturity,

i. e. is born.

Fabricius describes the manner of parturition as follows: “The uterus

having been so enlarged by the bulk of the fœtus that it will admit of

no further distension without risk, and thus excited to expulsion, is

drawn into itself by the action of the transverse fibres, and diminishes

its cavity. Thus whilst previously neither the excrementitious matters

from their quantity, nor the fœtus from its bulk, could be contained

within it, the uterus, contracted and compressed as it is now, becomes

still less able to retain them. Wherefore, first of all, the membranes,

as being the weaker parts, and suffering most pressure, are ruptured,

and give exit to the waters, which are of a very fluid consistence, for

the purpose of lubricating the passages. Then follows the fœtus, which

tends towards, and, as it were, assaults the uterine aperture, not only

by the force of its own gravity as no longer floating in water, but

compressed and propelled by the action of the uterus: the abdominal

muscles and the diaphragm also assist mightily in the entire process.”

Now in these words Fabricius rather describes the process of defæcation

or an abortion than a genuine and natural birth. For although in women,

as a general rule, the membranes are ruptured before the escape of the

fœtus, it is not universally so; nor does it hold in the case of other

animals which bring forth their young enveloped in their membranes. This

can be observed in the bitch, ewe, mare, and others, and more

particularly in the viper, which conceives an ovum of an uniform colour

and soft shell (resembling in fact the product of conception in the

woman); this is retained until the fœtus is completely formed; it is

then expelled entire, and, according to Aristotle,[368] is broken

through by the young animal on the third day. It sometimes happens,

however, that kittens, whilst yet in utero, gnaw through the membranes,

and so come into the world uninvolved.

And so also, according to the observation of experienced midwives, women

have occasionally expelled the child with the membranes unbroken. And

this kind of birth, in which the fœtus is born enveloped in its

coverings, appears to me by far the most natural; it is like the ripe

fruit which drops from the tree without scattering its seed before the

appointed time. But where it is otherwise, and the placenta,

subsequently to birth, adheres to the uterus, there is great difficulty

in detaching it, grave symptoms arise, fetid discharges, and sometimes

gangrene occur, and the mother is brought into imminent peril.

Since then the process of parturition, as described by Fabricius, does

not apply to all animals, but to women alone, and this not universally,

but only where the labour is premature, and, as it were, forced, we must

regard it not so much as a description of a natural as of a

preternatural and hurried delivery, in fact, of an abortion.

In natural and genuine labour two things are required, which mutually

bear upon and assist each other: these are, the mother which produces,

and the child to be produced; and unless both are ready to play their

part, the labour will hardly terminate favorably, requiring as it does

the proper maturity of both. For if, on the one hand, the fœtus, from

restlessness and over-desire to make its way out, does violence to the

uterus, and thus anticipates the mother; or if, on the contrary, the

mother, owing to feebleness of the uterus, or any other circumstance

necessitating expulsion, is beforehand with the fœtus, this is to be

looked upon rather as the result of disease than as a natural and

critical birth. The same may be said of those cases where parts only of

the product of conception escape, whilst others remain; for instance, if

the fœtus itself is disposed to come away when the placenta is not yet

separated from the uterus, or, on the other hand, if the placenta is

separated when the fœtus is not rightly placed, or the uterus is not

sufficiently relaxed to allow of its passage. Hence it is that midwives

are so much to blame, especially the younger and more meddlesome ones,

who make a marvellous pother when they hear the woman cry out with her

pains and implore assistance, daubing their hands with oil, and

distending the passages, so as not to appear ignorant in their

art--giving besides medicines to excite the expulsive powers, and when

they would hurry the labour, retarding it and making it unnatural, by

leaving behind portions of the membranes, or even of the placenta

itself, besides exposing the wretched woman to the air, wearying her out

on the labour-stool, and making her, in fact, run great risks of her

life. In truth, it is far better with the poor, and those who become

pregnant by mischance, and are secretly delivered without the aid of a

midwife; for the longer the birth is retarded the more safely and easily

is the process completed.

Of unnatural labours, therefore, there are chiefly two kinds: either the

fœtus is born before the proper time (and this constitutes an abortion),

or else subsequently to it, when a difficult or tedious labour is the

result, either from the due time and order not being preserved, or from

the presence of dangerous symptoms; these arise either from failure of

the expelling powers on the part of the mother, or from sluggishness on

the part of the fœtus in making its way out; it is when both perform

their proper parts that a safe and genuine labour results.

Fabricius ascribes the business of expelling the offspring to the

uterus; and he adds, “the abdominal muscles and the diaphragm assist in

the business.” It seems to me, however, on deep investigation, that the

throes of childbirth, just as sneezing, proceed from the motion and

agitation of the whole body. I am acquainted with a young woman who

during labour fell into so profound a state of coma that no remedies had

power to rouse her, nor was she in fact able to swallow. When called to

her, finding that injections and other ordinary remedies had been

employed in vain, I dipped a feather in a powerful sternutatory, and

passed it up the nostrils. Although the stupor was so profound that she

could not sneeze, or be roused in any way, the effect was to excite

convulsions throughout the body, beginning at the shoulders, and

gradually descending to the lower extremities. As often as I employed

the stimulus the labour advanced, until at last a strong and healthy

child was born, without the consciousness of the mother, who still

remained in a state of coma.

We can observe the manner of labour-pains in other animals, as the

bitch, sheep, and larger cattle, and ascertain that they do not depend

on the action of the uterus and abdomen only, but on the efforts of the

whole body.

The degree in which the offspring contributes to accelerate and

facilitate birth is made clear from observations on oviparous animals;

in these it is ascertained that the shell is broken through by the fœtus

and not by the mother. Hence it is probable that in viviparous animals

also the greater part of delivery is due to the fœtus--to its efforts, I

mean, not to its gravity, as Fabricius would have it. For what can

gravity do in the case of quadrupeds standing or sitting, or in the

woman when lying down? Nor are the efforts of the fœtus to get out, the

result, as he believes, of its own bulk or of that of the waters; the

waters, it is true, when the fœtus is dead and decomposed, by their

putrid and acrimonious nature, stimulate the uterus to expel its

contents; but it is the fœtus itself which, with its head downwards,

attacks the portals of the womb, opens them by its own energies, and

thus struggles into day. Wherefore a birth of this kind is held the more

speedy and fortunate; “it is contrary to nature,” says Pliny,[369] “for

a child to be born with the feet foremost; hence those so born were

called Agrippæ, i. e. born with difficulty”--(ægre parti), for in such

the labour is tedious and painful. Notwithstanding this, in cases of

abortion, or where the fœtus is dead, or, in fact, when any difficulty

arises in the delivery so as to require manual aid, it is better that

the feet should come first; they act as a wedge on the narrow uterine

passages. Hence, when we chiefly depend upon the fœtus, as being lively

and active, to accomplish delivery, we must do our best that the head

escape first; but if the business is to be done by the uterus, it is

advisable that the feet come foremost.

We are able to observe in how great a degree the fœtus contributes to

delivery, not only in birds, which, as I have said above, break through

the shell by their own powers, but also in many other animals. All kinds

of flies and butterflies pierce the little membrane in which they lie

concealed as “aureliæ;” the silkworm also, at its appointed time,

softens by moistening, and then eats through the silken bag which it had

spun round itself for protection, and makes its way out without any

foreign aid. In the same manner wasps, hornets, all insects in fact, and

fishes of every kind, are born by their own will and powers. This can be

best seen in the skate, fork-fish, lamprey, and the cartilaginous

fishes generally. These conceive a perfect two-coloured egg, made up,

that is, of albumen and yelk, and contained in a strong quadrangular

shell; from this, still retained within the uterus, the young fish is

formed: it then breaks through the shell, and makes its way out. In an

exactly similar manner the young viper eats through the egg-shell,

sometimes whilst it remains in utero, sometimes when within the

passages, at others two or three days after birth. Hence arose the fable

of the young viper eating through the womb of its mother, and so

avenging its father’s death; it does, in fact, nothing but what the

young of every animal does, breaking though the membranes which envelope

it, either in the delivery itself, or a short time subsequently to that

event.

We learn moreover from positive observations how much the fœtus

contributes to its own birth. A woman in my own neighbourhood, and I

speak as having knowledge of the circumstance, died one evening, and the

body was left by itself in a room; the next morning an infant was found

between the thighs of the mother, having evidently forced its way out by

its own efforts. Gregorius Nymmanus has collected several instances of a

similar kind from trustworthy authors.

I am further acquainted with a woman who had the whole length of the

vagina so torn and injured in a difficult labour, that subsequently,

after she had again become pregnant, not only did the parts in the

neighbourhood of the nymphæ, but the whole cavity of the vagina as far

as the orifice of the uterus, become adherent; this went to such an

extent that coition became impossible, nor could a probe be passed up,

nor was there any passage left for the ordinary discharges. When her

labour came on her sufferings were so dreadful that all hope of delivery

was abandoned. She therefore gave up the keys to her husband, arranged

her affairs, and took leave of her friends who were present. On a

sudden, however, by the violent efforts of the fœtus the whole space was

burst through, and a vigorous infant born; thus was the fœtus the

salvation both of itself and its mother, besides opening the way for

subsequent children. By the exhibition of proper remedies the mother

recovered her former good state of health.

The following instance is even more remarkable. A white mare of great

beauty had been presented to her Serene Highness the Queen, and in

order that its symmetry and usefulness might not be impaired by

foal-bearing, the grooms, as is the custom, had infibulated the animal

with iron rings. This mare (by what chance I know not, nor could the

grooms inform me) was got with foal; and at length, when no one

suspected anything of the kind, she foaled in the night, and a living

foal was found the next morning by the mother’s side. When I heard of

the circumstance I went immediately to the place, and found the sides of

the vulva still fastened together by the rings, but the whole pudendum

on the left side so thrust and torn away from the pelvis by the almost

incredible efforts of the fœtus, that a gap sufficiently wide was made

to admit of its escape. Such is the force and vigour of a full-grown and

healthy fœtus.

But, on the contrary, if the fœtus is diseased or feeble, or is bom

before the full term, it must be considered more an abortion than a

regular birth, the fœtus being expelled rather than born; and thus for

some days after birth it neither properly takes the breast nor gets rid

of its excretions.

And yet the following example will show that the uterus also contributes

towards delivery. A poor washerwoman had long suffered from procidentia

uteri to such an extent that a tumour hung between the thighs as large

as the fist. As no remedies had been applied, the prolapsed part became

so rough and wrinkled as to take on the appearance of the scrotum, and

in this state she suffered less than at the commencement of her illness.

When consulted on her case, I ordered her to keep her bed for several

days, to employ fomentations and ointments, and after the uterus was

returned, to keep it in its place by means of pessaries and bandages,

until by the use of strengthening applications it should be fixed firmly

in its place. This plan was followed by some success; but she soon

suffered a relapse, when compelled by her circumstances to follow her

usual occupations, and continue long in the erect position. She bore,

however, her inconvenience with patience, the uterus at times

protruding, at others not doing so. At night she could usually reduce

it, and it remained for some time in its proper place. After the lapse

of a few days she returned, and complained that the uterus was so

swelled from the use, as she thought, of the remedies, and especially of

the fomentations, that it could not any longer be retained. By using

some applications she was enabled to accomplish the reduction; but the

cure was only temporary, for as soon as she stood up, and followed her

ordinary occupations, the uterus immediately gave her much inconvenience

by its weight, and at length entirely prolapsed. And now it hung down to

the middle of the thigh, like the scrotum of a bull, to such an extent

that I suspected not only the vagina but also the uterus to be inverted,

or that there was some kind of uterine hernia. At length the tumour

exceeded in magnitude a man’s head, acquired a resisting character, and

hung down as low as the knees; it also gave her much pain, and prevented

her walking except in the prone position; added to which it discharged a

sanious fluid from its inferior part, as if some portion had ulcerated.

On ocular inspection (for I did not employ the touch) I feared that

cancer or carcinoma might result, and so thought of the ligature or

excision; in the mean time I advised the employment of soothing

fomentations to ease the pain. The following night, however, a fœtus of

a span long, perfectly formed, but dead, was expelled from the tumour,

and was brought to me the next day. I took out the intestines, and kept

it in cold water without decomposition for many months, showing it to my

friends as an extraordinary object of curiosity. The proper skin in this

fœtus was not yet formed, but in its place there was a pellicle, which

could be stripped off entire, like that on a baked apple; underneath all

the muscles of the body could be distinctly seen, the fœtus being very

lean. I shall describe at another opportunity what I discovered in this

fœtus on dissection. I have mentioned the case on this occasion to show

that it was the uterus alone which excited the abortion, and expelled

the fœtus by its own efforts.

Fabricius[370] suggests two circumstances as especially worthy of

admiration in and after birth: first, the dilatation of the uterus at

the time of birth; secondly, the way in which after birth it is restored

to its usual small size. He wonders how the uterus can be so distended

as to allow the fœtus to escape, and afterwards in so short a period

return to its pristine state.

He says, “that with Galen[371] we can only wonder, but not understand,”

how the neck of the uterus, a part so thick, hard, and closely sealed,

as not to admit a probe, can suffer such distension at the time of

deliver”. He gives,[372] however, the following reason: “that the

unimpregnated uterus is of a thick and hard consistence, and so is its

orifice, but when impregnated is yielding and soft, and in proportion as

the term of delivery approaches, both the body of the uterus and its

orifice become more and more yielding.” He believes this to arise “from

the distension which the uterus undergoes, and that when this distension

takes place, the compact and plaited, so to speak, body of the uterus is

expanded and unfolded; thus what was before thick and hard becomes soft

and yielding, and ready to admit of the passage of the fœtus.” He adds

subsequently, “Some one may ask--if all this is correct, how is it that

in pregnant animals the uterine aperture is so closed that it will not

admit a probe? I answer, that this is so because the uterus, whilst it

is being distended and undone, like a closely-folded piece of linen,

begins to undergo these changes at its superior part; the lower portions

then gradually widen, until the power of distension arrives at the

aperture; this generally takes place at the period of birth. With reason

then is the uterine orifice closely shut in the first months of

pregnancy, whilst it is still hard and thick, but inclined to dilate in

the latter ones. Thus much may be said about the unknown cause of Galen.

Other circumstances may be mentioned as conducing to the dilatation of

the orifice; for instance, the excretions of the fœtus, such as the

sweat and urine; for although these are contained in their proper

receptacles and membranes, yet some degree of moisture may be

communicated to the uterine aperture, especially as it lies low, and

always in the immediate neighbourhood of these humours; added to which,

mucous and slimy matters are always found about the orifice.” But in my

opinion this great man is wrong; for the neck of the uterus is not hard

from being folded on itself, but in consequence of its own proper

substance and cartilaginous nature; and the accidental causes which he

gives can have but little weight towards furthering the dilatation.

This, doubtless, like every other contrivance in the human body, is

owing to the divine providence of Nature, which directs her workmanship

to certain ends, actions, and uses. The structure, then, of the uterus

is such, that immediately on conception it shuts up closely its

cartilaginous aperture, for the purpose of retaining the seed; this part

subsequently, at birth, and that the fœtus may escape, like fruit on the

tree, comes to maturity and softens, and this not by any unfolding of

its tissue, but by a change in its natural character. For a loosening

and softening takes place even in the commissural attachments of bones,

as in those between the haunches and the sacrum, the pubes, and the

pieces of the coccyx. It is a truly wonderful thing that the little

point of a sprouting germ, say of the almond or another fruit, should

break the shell which a hammer can scarcely crush; or that the tender

fibres of the ivy-root should penetrate the narrow chinks of the stone,

and at length cause rents in mighty walls. But it does not appear so

marvellous that the parts of the woman, when distended by labour, should

recover their natural firmness, if we consider the state of the male

organ in coition, and how soon it subsequently becomes soft and flaccid.

A greater matter for wonder is it, and surpassing all these “foldings,”

that the substance of the uterus, as the fœtus increases, not only is

day by day enlarged and distended or unfolded, as it were, to take

Fabricius’s notion, but that it should become more thick, fleshy, and

strong. We may even, with Fabricius, marvel still more at the means by

which the mass of the uterus, by the intervention of the ordinary

lochial discharges, returns to its original size in so few days; for

this is not the case with other tumours or abscesses; these require a

longer period for dispersion, being made up of unnatural matters, and

such as require digestion, a process opposed to the power of expulsion.

Yet this is not more worthy of admiration than the other works of

nature, for “all things are full of God,” and the Deity of nature is

ever visibly present.

In the last place, it is object of great wonder to Fabricius how those

vessels of the fœtus (meaning the oval opening out of the vena cava into

the pulmonary vein, and the duct from the pulmonary artery into the

aorta, on which subjects I have entered fully in my Essay on the

Circulation of the Blood) immediately after birth begin to shrivel up

and become obliterated. He is driven to that reason given by

Aristotle,[373] and already cited by me, which is, that all parts are

made for a certain function, and if the function ceases to be required

that they themselves disappear. The eye sees, the ear hears, the brain

perceives, the stomach digests, not because such characters and

structures (naturally) belong to these organs; but they are endowed with

such characters and structures to accomplish the functions appointed

them by nature.

On grounds like these it would appear that the uterus holds the first

place among the organs destined for generation; for the testicles are

made to produce semen, the semen is for the purposes of intercourse, and

coition itself, or the emission of the semen, is instituted by nature

that the uterus may be fecundated and generation result.

I have said before that an egg is, as it were, the fruit of an animal,

and a kind of external uterus. Now, on the other hand, we may regard the

uterus as an egg remaining within. For as trees are gay with leaves,

flowers, and fruit at stated periods, and oviparous animals at one time

conceive and produce eggs, at another become effete, so that neither the

“place” or the part that contained them can be found, so have viviparous

animals their spring and autumn allotted them. At the season of

fecundation the genital organs, especially in the female, undergo great

changes, so much so that in birds, the ovary, which at other times is

scarcely visible, now becomes turgid; and the belly of the fish, near

about the time of spawning, far exceeds in bulk the rest of the body,

owing to the enormous number of ova and the quantity of semen contained

within it. In very many viviparous animals the genital organs, that is,

the uterus and spermatic vessels, are not always found presenting the

same mode and course of action and structure; but as they are capable or

not of conception, so changes take place, and to such an extent that the

organs can hardly be recognized as the same. In nature, just as there is

nothing lacking, so is there nothing superfluous; and thus it happens

that the organs of generation wither away and are lost when there is no

longer any use for them.

At the period of coitus in the hare and mole, the testicles of the male

become visible, and in the female the horns of the uterus appear. In

truth, it is most marvellous to see what an enormous quantity of semen

is contained in full-grown moles and mice at those times, whilst at

others no semen can be seen, and the testicles are shrunk and retracted.

So also when the reproductive faculty ceases in the female, the uterus

is found with difficulty, and it is scarcely possible to distinguish the

sexes.

The uterus, especially in the woman, varies extraordinarily as it is

fecundated or not, both in constitution and in the results of that

constitution--I mean in position, size, form, colour, thickness,

hardness, and density. In the girl, before the age of puberty, the

breasts are no larger than those of the boy, and the uterus is a small,

white, membranous organ, destitute of vessels, and not larger than the

top of the thumb, or a large bean. In like manner in old women, as the

breasts are collapsed, so is the uterus shrunken, flaccid, withered,

pale, and void of vessels and blood. I attribute the suppression of the

catamenia in elderly women to this cause; in them the menstruous fluid

either escapes as hemorrhoidal flux, or is prematurely stopped, to the

injury of the health. For when the uterus becomes cold and almost

lifeless, and all its vessels are obliterated, the superfluous blood

boils up, and either falls back and stagnates, or else is diverted into

the neighbouring veins. On the contrary, in those pale virgins who

labour under chronic maladies, and in whom the uterus is small and the

catamenia stagnate, “by coition,” says Aristotle,[374] “the

excrementitious menstrual fluid is drawn downwards, for the heated

uterus attracts the humours, and the passages are opened.” In this way

their maladies are greatly lessened, seeing that want of action on the

part of the uterus exposes the body to various ills. For the uterus is a

most important organ, and brings the whole body to sympathize with it.

No one of the least experience can be ignorant what grievous symptoms

arise when the uterus either rises up or falls down, or is in any way

put out of place, or is seized with spasm--how dreadful, then, are the

mental aberrations, the delirium, the melancholy, the paroxysms of

frenzy, as if the affected person were under the dominion of spells, and

all arising from unnatural states of the uterus. How many incurable

diseases also are brought on by unhealthy menstrual discharges, or from

over-abstinence from sexual intercourse where the passions are strong!

Nor are the changes which take place in the virgin less observable when

the uterus first begins to enlarge and receive warmth; the complexion is

improved, the breasts enlarge, the countenance glows with beauty, the

eyes lighten, the voice becomes harmonious; the gait, gestures,

discourse, all are graceful. Serious maladies, too, are cured either at

this period or never.

I am acquainted with a noble lady who for more than ten years laboured

under furor uterinus and melancholy. After all remedies had been

employed without success, she became affected with prolapsus uteri.

Contrary to the opinion of others, I predicted that this last accident

would prove salutary, and I recommended her not to replace the uterus

until its over-heat had been moderated by the contact of the external

air. Circumstances turned out as I anticipated, and in a short time she

became quite well; the uterus was returned to its proper situation, and

she lives in good health to the present day.

I also saw another woman who suffered long with hysterical symptoms,

which would yield to no remedies. After many years her health was

restored on the uterus becoming prolapsed. In both cases, when the

violence of the symptoms was abated, I returned the uterus, and the

event proved favorable. For the uterus, when stimulated by any acrid

matter, not only falls down, but like the rectum irritated by a

tenesmus, thrusts itself outwards.

Various, then, is the constitution of the uterus, and not only in its

diseased, but also in its natural state, that is, at the periods of

fecundity and barrenness. In young girls, as I said, and in women past

childbearing, it is without blood, and about the size of a bean. In the

marriageable virgin it has the magnitude and form of a pear. In women

who have borne children, and are still fruitful, it equals in bulk a

small gourd or a goose’s egg; at the same time, together with the

breasts, it swells and softens, becomes more fleshy, and its heat is

increased; whilst, to use Virgil’s expression with reference to the

fields,

“Superat tener omnibus humor,

Et genitalia semina poscunt.”

Wherefore women are most prone to conceive either just before or just

subsequent to the menstrual flux, for at these periods there is a

greater degree of heat and moisture, two conditions necessary to

generation. In the same manner when other animals are in heat, the

genital organs are moist and turgid.

Such is the state of the uterus as I have found it before birth. In

pregnant women, as I have before stated, the uterus increases in

proportion to the fœtus, and attains a great size. Immediately after

birth, I have seen it as large as a man’s head, more than a thumb’s

breadth in thickness, and loaded with vessels full of blood. It is,

indeed, most wonderful, and, as Fabricius remarks, quite beyond human

reason, how such a mass can diminish to so vast an extent in the space

of fifteen or twenty days. It happens as follows: immediately on the

expulsion of the fœtus and its membranes, the uterus gradually

contracts, narrows its neck, and shrinks inwardly into itself; partly by

a process of diaphoresis, partly by means of the lochia, its bulk

insensibly lessens; and the neighbouring parts, bones, abdomen, and all

the hypogastric region, at the same time diminish and recover their

firmness. The lochial discharge at first resembles pure blood; it then

becomes of a sanious character, like the washings of flesh, and is

otherwise pale and serous. At this last stage, when no longer tinged

with blood, the women call it “the coming of the milk,” for the reason

probably that at that time the breasts are loaded with milk, and the

lochia sensibly diminish; as if the nutritive matter was then

transferred to the breasts from the uterus.

In other animals the process is shorter and simpler; in them the parts

concerned recover their ordinary bulk and consistence in one or two

days. In fact, some, as the hare and rabbit, admit the buck, and again

become fecundated, an hour after kindling. In like manner, I have stated

that the hen admits the cock immediately on laying. Women, as they alone

have a menstruous, so have they alone a lochial discharge; added to

which they are exposed to disorders and perils immediately after birth,

either from the uterus, through feebleness, contracting too soon, or

from the lochia becoming vitiated or suppressed. For it often happens,

especially in delicate women, that foul and putrid lochia set up fevers

and other violent symptoms. Because the uterus, torn and injured by the

separation of the placenta, especially if any violence has been used,

resembles a vast internal ulcer, and is cleansed and purified by the

free discharge of the lochia. Therefore do we conclude as to the

favorable or unfavorable state of the puerperal woman from the character

of these excretions. For if any part of the placenta adhere to the

uterus, the lochial discharges become fetid, green, and putrid; and

sometimes the powers of the uterus are so reduced that gangrene is the

result, and the woman is destroyed.

If clots of blood, or any other foreign matter, remain in the uterine

cavity after delivery, the uterus does not retract nor close its

orifice; but the cervix is found soft and open. This I ascertained in a

woman, who, when laboring under a malignant fever, with great

prostration of strength, miscarried of a fœtus exhibiting no marks of

decomposition, and who afterwards lay in an apparently dying state, with

a pulse scarcely to be counted, and cold sweats. Finding the uterine

orifice soft and open, and the lochia very offensive, I suspected that

something was undergoing decomposition within; whereupon I introduced

the fingers and brought away a “mole” of the size of a goose’s egg, of a

hard, fleshy, and almost cartilaginous consistence, and pierced with

holes, which discharged a thick and fetid matter. The woman was

immediately freed from her symptoms, and in a short time recovered.

When the neck of the uterus contracts in a moderate degree after birth,

and certain pains, called by the midwives “after pains,” ensue, in

consequence of the difficulty with which the clots are expelled, the

case is considered a favorable one, and is so in fact; for it indicates

vigour on the part of the uterus, and that it is inclined readily to

contract to its usual bulk; the result of which is that the lochia are

duly expelled, and health restored to the woman.

But I have observed in some women the uterine orifice so closed

immediately after parturition, that the blood has been retained in the

uterus, and then, becoming putrid, has induced the most dangerous

symptoms; and when art did not avail to promote its exit, the woman has

presently died.

A noble lady in childbed being attacked with fever for want of the

ordinary lochial discharge, had the pudenda swollen and hot; finding

the uterine orifice hard and firmly closed, I forcibly dilated the part

by means of an iron instrument sufficiently to admit of my introducing a

syringe and throwing up an injection; the effect of which was that

grumous and fetid blood, to the amount of several pounds, flowed away,

with present relief of the symptoms.

The wife of a doctor of divinity was brought to me; a lady of a very

tolerable constitution, but who was barren, and having an extreme desire

for progeny, had tried all kinds of prescriptions in vain. In her the

catamenia appeared at their proper period; but at times, especially

after horse exercise, a bloody and purulent discharge came from the

uterus, and then, in a short time, ceased suddenly. Some considered the

case as one of leucorrhœa; others, led chiefly by the fact that the

discharge was not continually present, and in small quantities, but

appeared by intervals and in abundance, suspected a fistulous ulcer;

whereupon they examined the whole vagina by means of a speculum uteri,

and applied various remedies, but in vain; when I was at length called

to her. I opened the uterine orifice, and immediately two spoonfuls of

pus came away of a sanious character and tinged with streaks of blood.

On seeing this I said that there was a hidden ulcer in the uterine

cavity, and by applying suitable remedies I restored her to her former

state of health. But during the time when I was engaged in her cure,

when the ordinary remedies did not appear to be doing much good, I

applied stronger ones, suspecting as I did that the ulcer was of long

standing, and perhaps covered by exuberant granulations. I therefore

added a little Roman vitriol to the injection employed previously, the

effect of which was to make the uterus contract suddenly and become as

hard as a stone; at the same time various hysterical symptoms showed

themselves, such, I mean, as are generally supposed by physicians to

arise from constriction of the uterus, and the rising of “foul vapours”

therefrom. The symptoms continued some time, until by the application of

soothing and anodyne remedies the uterus relaxed its orifice; upon which

the acrid injection, together with a putrid sanies, was expelled, and in

a short time the patient recovered.

I have introduced this account from my “medical observations” for the

purpose of showing how acutely sensible the uterus is, and how readily

it closes on the approach of danger, especially when urgent symptoms

accompany the puerperal state. Women are peculiarly subject to these

accidents, especially those among them who lead a luxurious life, or

whose health is naturally weak, and who easily fall into disorders.

Country women, and those accustomed to a life of labour, do not become

dangerously ill on such small grounds. Some of them may be found

pregnant a month after delivery; whilst two months frequently elapse

before others are able to set about the ordinary occupations of life.

It is laid down by Hippocrates,[375] that as many days are required for

the “after-purgings” as there are for the formation of the fœtus;

therefore there are more for a female than a male child. “But this,”

says Scaliger,[376] “is false; for in none of our women do “the

cleansings” last more than a month; in very many they cease on the

fifteenth day; in some even on the seventh day; and I have seen a case

where they lasted only until the third day, although the woman had borne

twins.” Galen has many observations on this subject in his work περὶ

κυουμένων, (On the Formation of the Fœtus.) In the New World, it is said

that the woman keeps apart the day only on which she is delivered, and

then returns to her ordinary occupations.

I will add, in conclusion, an extraordinary instance told me by the

noble Lord George Carew, Earl of Totness, and long Lord-Lieutenant of

Munster in Ireland--he who wrote the history of these times. A woman,

great with child, was following her husband, who served as a soldier,

and it happened that the army, when on the march, was compelled to halt

for the space of an hour near a small river which impeded their passage;

whereupon the woman, who felt her labour at hand, retired to a

neighbouring thicket, and there, without the aid of a midwife or any

other preparation, gave birth to twins; after she had washed both

herself and them in the running stream, she wrapped the infants in a

coarse covering, tied them on her back, and the same day marched

barefoot twelve miles with the army, without the slightest harm ensuing.

The following day the Viceroy, Earl Mountjoy, who at that time was

leading an army against Kinsale, then occupied by the Spaniards, and

the Earl of Totness, were so affected by the strange incident, that they

appeared at the font, and had the infants called by their own names.

ON

THE UTERINE MEMBRANES AND HUMOURS.

OF THE

UTERINE MEMBRANES AND HUMOURS.

“Four kinds of bodies” are enumerated by Hieronymus Fabricius[377] “as

existing externally to the fœtus; these are the umbilical vessels, the

membranes, the humours, and a fleshy substance.” On these subjects,

guided by my observations, I shall briefly state wherein I differ from

him; first, however, giving his statement in his own words.

“There are,” he says, “three membranes, two of which envelope the whole

fœtus, but the third does not do so. Of those which envelope the whole

fœtus, the innermost, immediately investing one, is called ἃμνιον, i. e.

the mantle. That which follows next is entitled by the Greeks χόριον;

the Latins, however, have not given it a name, although some

interpreters have thought proper erroneously to call it “secundæ” or

“secundina,” the secundines; this also envelopes the entire fœtus. The

third is called ἀλλαντοειδὴς, i. e. gut-like, from its resemblance to a

stuffed intestine; it does not entirely encompass the fœtus, but is

applied upon the thorax and part of the abdomen, and extends to either

horn of the uterus.” He allows that this last membrane is only found in

the fœtus of the sheep and cow; he asserts also that it is continuous

with the urachus, and by means of this receives the urine from the

bladder. Hence, he goes on, “horned animals, in whom this allantois is

found, have the urachus so wide and straight, that it resembles a small

intestine; it gradually decreases in size until it reaches the fundus of

the bladder; whence it would appear to owe its origin rather to the

intestine than to the bladder itself. But in man and other animals

furnished with incisors in both jaws, and in whom the allantois is

wanting, the size of the urachus is so diminished, that although it

rises from the fundus of the bladder as a single tube, it afterwards

splits into innumerable fibres, which pass beyond the umbilicus together

with the vessels, and carry the urine into the chorion, although the

exact mode in which it does so cannot be demonstrated.” On this ground

he accuses Arantius of a double error--first, his denial of the

existence of the urachus in man; and, secondly, his assertion that the

fœtus passes its urine through the genital organs.

For my own part, I must confess I am a willing party to the errors of

Arantius, if errors they are to be called. For I am quite sure, if

pressure be made on the bladder of a full-grown fœtus, whether of man or

of any other animal, that urine will flow by the genitals. But I have

never seen an urachus, nor observed that the urine is propelled into the

membranes by making pressure on the bladder. I have indeed seen in the

sheep and deer what appeared to be a process of bladder between the

umbilical arteries, and which contained urine; but it in no way

resembled the urachus as described by Fabricius. Not that I would

obstinately deny the existence of an allantois; for the minor membranes

are so delicate and transparent (those, for example, which we have

described as existing between the two “whites” of the egg) that they may

easily escape observation. Moreover, in the hen’s egg a white

excrementitious matter, and even fæces are found between the

colliquament and albumen, i. e. between the amnion and chorion; this I

have mentioned before, and Coiterus has also observed it. Added to

which, the membrane of the colliquament itself, in which the fœtus

swims, although it is so exceedingly transparent and delicate that

Fabricius himself allows nothing can be imagined more so, nevertheless

(for according to him all membranes, however thin, are double) may

nature sometimes find herself compelled to deposit urine or some other

matter between its duplicatures. An allantois of this kind I am ready to

allow Fabricius; but that other intestine-like body produced into either

horn of the uterus, I do not discover among the membranes in

cloven-footed animals, nor aught else, in fact, except the conception

itself. I can only find, as I before said, a process of the bladder,

situated between the umbilical arteries, which contains an

excrementitious matter, and varies in length in different animals.

Wherefore, in my opinion, the tunic which Fabricius calls the allantois

is, in fact, the chorion; and the ancients applied the name of allantois

to it on account of its resemblance to a double intestine. For that

external membrane, constricted in the middle, and resembling a

saddle-bag in form, which is stretched upwards to each horn of the

uterus, and in its passage is pinched in by that part of the uterus

which connects the horns, is in truth the chorion; and in the sheep,

goat, roe, fallow-deer, and other cloven-footed animals, it can be

raised by the hand in the middle of its course, and easily extracted

whole; this is the same as what is called the “conception” or ovum. Like

an egg, it contains within itself two fluids, and the fœtus with its

appendages; it is possessed besides of those characters which Aristotle

attributes to the egg; these are, that out of part of it the embryo is

originally formed, and that the remainder constitutes the sustenance of

the new animal, as has been frequently explained. I believe, then, the

tunic which Fabricius called the allantois to be either the chorion or

else some unnatural structure formed out of the reduplication of the

membranes. It is accordingly only found to exist in some animals, and

not always in these; it cannot be traced from the commencement of

conception, and in some animals it is more apparent than in others:

whilst in others nothing can be seen except a mere process of the

bladder. Besides, Fabricius himself allows that its purpose is not to

envelope the fœtus, but to contain its urine. In truth, I must think

that he has described it rather to defend the doctrine of the ancients,

than because he really believed he had discovered such a membrane, or

that it served any good purpose. For he allows, with the ancients, and

every medical school, that the chorion contains urine, when he says[378]

that there are two humours encircling the fœtus, one, viz. in the

amnion, consisting of sweat; the other in the chorion, consisting of

urine. It is, therefore, clear that the ancients under the two names

understood one and the same membrane; and that in the cloven-footed

animals they called it “allantois,” on account of its form; but in

others “chorion,” because they thought its object was to receive the

urine. Wherefore they allow that this tunic is neither found in man nor

any of the other animals. For what need can there be of another tunic to

retain the urine, when they themselves admit that the office of doing so

belongs especially to the chorion? There can be no probable reason

assigned why this tunic should exist in the sheep, goat, and the other

cloven-footed animals, and not also in the dog, cat, mouse, and others.

For in truth, if the object of this membrane were to contain the urine,

the fœtus of the sheep and cow must secrete a much larger quantity than

those of animals furnished with incisors in both jaws; there must then

either be three different humours, or at least two receptacles for the

urine. For myself, I am sure that the chorion from the first is full of

water. I will not, however, enter into controversies; I would rather

record what I have found by my own observations.

To do as Fabricius has done, and give the structure of the full-grown

and perfect embryo, is one thing, but it is another to enter fully on

the subject of its generation and first formation: just as they are very

different things to describe the ripe fruit of an apple or any other

tree, and to explain the manner in which it is produced from the germ. I

will, therefore, briefly go through the stages by which the “conception”

is brought to maturity, in which way the true doctrines in the matter of

the membranes and other fœtal appendages will be better ascertained.

In the production of all living creatures, as I have before said, this

invariably holds, that they derive their origin from a certain primary

something or primordium which contains within itself both the “matter”

and the “efficient cause;” and so is, in fact, the matter out of which,

and that by which, whatsoever is produced is made. Such a primary

something in animals (whether they spring from parents, or arise

spontaneously, or from putrefaction) is a moisture inclosed in some

membrane or shell; a similar body, in fact, having life within itself

either actually or potentially; and this, if it is generated within an

animal and remain there, until it produce an “univocal” (not equivocal)

animal, is commonly called a “conception;” but if it is exposed to the

air by birth, or assumes its beginning under other circumstances, (than

within an animal), it is then denominated an “egg,” or “worm.” I think,

however, that in either case the word “primordium” should be used to

express that from whence the animal is formed; just as plants owe their

origin to seeds: all these “primordia” have one common property--that of

vitality.

I find a “primordium” of this kind in the uterus of all viviparous

animals before any trace of a fœtus appears: there is a clear, thick,

white fluid (like the albumen of the egg) inclosed in a membrane, and

this I call the ovum. In the roe, fallow-deer, sheep, and other

cloven-footed animals, it fills the whole uterus and both its horns.