Animal Life and Intelligence

by C. Lloyd Morgan

The organs of respiration, in ourselves and all the mammalia, are the lungs, which lie in the thoracic cavity of the chest, the walls of which are bounded by the ribs and breast-bone, its floor being formed of a muscular and movable partition, the diaphragm, which separates it from the stomach and other alimentary viscera in the abdominal region. The lungs fit closely, on either side of the heart, in this thoracic cavity; and when the size of this cavity is altered by movements of the ribs and diaphragm, air is either sucked into or expelled from the lungs through the windpipe, which communicates with the exterior through the mouth or nostrils. It is unnecessary to describe the minute structure of the lungs; suffice it to say that, in the mammal, they contain a vast number of tubes, all communicating eventually with the windpipe, and terminating in little expanded sacs or bags. Around these little sacs courses the blood in a network of minute capillary vessels, the walls of which are so thin and delicate that the fluid they contain is only separated from the gas within the sacs by a film of organic tissue.

The blood is a colourless fluid, containing a great number of round red blood-discs, which, from their minute size and vast numbers, seem to stain it red. They may be likened to a fleet of little boats, each capable of being laden with a freight of oxygen gas, while the stream in which they float is saturated with carbonic acid gas. This latter escapes into the air-sacs as the fluid courses through the delicate capillary tubes.

Whither goes the oxygen? Whence comes the carbonic acid gas? The answer to these questions is found by following the course of the blood-circulation. The propulsion of the blood throughout the body is effected by the heart, an organ consisting, in mammals, of two receivers (auricles) into which blood is poured, and two powerful force-pumps (ventricles), supplied with blood from the receivers and driving it through great arteries to various parts of the body. There are valves between the receivers and the force-pumps and at the commencement of the great arterial vessels, which ensure the passage of the blood in the right direction. The two receivers lie side by side; the two force-pumps form a single muscular mass; and all four are bound up into one organ; but there is, during adult life, no direct communication between the right and left receivers or the right and left force-pumps.

Fig. 6.—Diagram of circulation.

L.A., left auricle of the heart; L.V., left ventricle; H., capillary plexus of the head; B., capillary plexus of the body; A.C., alimentary canal; Lr., liver; R.A., right auricle of the heart; R.V., right ventricle; Lu., lungs.

Let us now follow the purified stream, with its oxygen-laden blood-discs, as it leaves the capillary tubes of the lungs. It generally collects, augmented by blood from other similar vessels, into large veins, which pour their contents into the left receiver. Thence it passes on into the left force-pump, by which it is propelled, through a great arterial vessel and the numerous branches it gives off, to the head and brain, to the body and limbs, to the abdominal viscera; in short, to all parts of the body except the lungs. In all the parts thus supplied, the vessels at length break up into a delicate capillary network, so that the blood-fluid is separated from the tissue-cells only by the delicate organic film of the capillary walls. Then the blood begins to re-collect into larger and larger veins. But a change has taken place; the blood-discs have delivered up to the tissues their freight of oxygen; the stream in which they float has been charged with carbonic acid gas. The veins leading from various parts of the body converge upon the heart and pour their contents into the right receiver; thence the blood passes into the right force-pump, by which it is propelled, by arteries, to the lungs. There the blood-discs are again laden with oxygen, the stream is again purified of its carbonic acid gas, and the blood proceeds on its course, to renew the cycle of its circulation.

Now, if we study the process of respiration and that of circulation, with which it is so closely associated, in other forms of life, we shall find many differences in detail. In the bird, for example, the mechanism of respiration is different. There is no diaphragm, and the lungs are scarcely distensible. There are, however, large air-sacs in the abdomen, in the thoracic region, in the fork of the merry-thought, and elsewhere. These are distensible, and to reach them the air has to pass through the lungs, and as it thus passes through the delicate tubes of the lungs, it supplies the blood with oxygen and takes away carbonic acid gas. In the frog there is no diaphragm, and there are no ribs. The lungs are hollow sacs with honey-combed sides, and they are inflated from the mouth, which is used as a force-pump for this purpose. In the fish there are no lungs, respiration being effected by means of gills. In these organs the blood is separated from the water which passes over them (being gulped in by the mouth and forced out between the gill-covers) by only a thin organic film, so that it can take up the oxygen dissolved in the water, and give up to the water the carbonic acid it contains. In fishes, too, we have only one receiver and one force-pump, the blood passing through the gills on its way to the various parts of the body. In the lobster, again, there are gills, but the mechanism by which the water is drawn over them is quite different, and the blood passes through them on its way to the heart, after passing through the various organs of the body, not on its way from the heart, as in vertebrate fishes. The blood, too, has no red blood-discs. In the air-breathing insects the mechanism is, again, altogether different. The air, which obtains access to the body by spiracles in the sides (see [Fig. 1], [p. 3]), is distributed by delicate and beautiful tubes to all parts of the organs; so that the oxygen is supplied to the tissues directly, and not through the intervention of a blood-stream. In the earthworm, on the other hand, there is a distributing blood-stream, but there is no mechanism for introducing the air within the body; while in some of the lowliest forms of life there is neither any introduction of air within the body nor any distribution by means of a circulating fluid. Beginning, therefore, with the surface of the body simply absorbent of oxygen, we have the concentration of the absorbent parts in special regions, and an increase in the absorbent surface, either (1) by the pushing out of processes into the surrounding medium, as in gills; or (2) by the formation of internal cavities, tubes, or branching passages, as in lungs and the tracheal air-system of insects.

What, then, is the essential nature of the respiratory process thus so differently manifested? Clearly the supply of oxygen to the cellular tissue-elements, and, generally closely associated with this, the getting rid of carbonic acid gas.

Let us now glance at the life-processes which minister to nutrition, beginning, as before, with the mode in which these processes are effected in ourselves.