After these observations, it will be easily seen that similar conclusions may be drawn with respect to the limbs of carnivorous animals, which require particular conformations to fit them for rapidity of motion in general; and that similar considerations must influence the forms and connections of the vertebrae and other bones constituting the trunk of the body, to fit them for flexibility and readiness of motion in all directions. The bones also of the nose, of the orbit, and of the ears require certain forms and structures to fit them for giving perfection to the senses of smell, sight, and hearing, so necessary to animals of prey. In short, the shape and structure of the teeth regulate the forms of the condyle, of the shoulder-blade, and of the claws, in the same manner as the equation of a curve regulates all its other properties; and as in regard to any particular curve all its properties may be ascertained by assuming each separate property as the foundation of a particular equation, in the same manner a claw, a shoulder-blade, a condyle, a leg or arm bone, or any other bone separately considered, enables us to discover the description of teeth to which they have belonged; and so also reciprocally we may determine the forms of the other bones from the teeth. Thus commencing our investigations by a careful survey of any one bone by itself, a person who is sufficiently master of the laws of organic structure may, as it were, reconstruct the whole animal to which that bone belonged."(1)

We have already pointed out that no one is quite able to perform the necromantic feat suggested in the last sentence; but the exaggeration is pardonable in the enthusiast to whom the principle meant so much and in whose hands it extended so far.

Of course this entire principle, in its broad outlines, is something with which every student of anatomy had been familiar from the time when anatomy was first studied, but the full expression of the "law of co-ordination," as Cuvier called it, had never been explicitly made before; and, notwithstanding its seeming obviousness, the exposition which Cuvier made of it in the introduction to his classical work on comparative anatomy, which was published during the first decade of the nineteenth century, ranks as a great discovery. It is one of those generalizations which serve as guideposts to other discoveries.

BICHAT AND THE BODILY TISSUES

Much the same thing may be said of another generalization regarding the animal body, which the brilliant young French physician Marie Francois Bichat made in calling attention to the fact that each vertebrate organism, including man, has really two quite different sets of organs—one set under volitional control, and serving the end of locomotion, the other removed from volitional control, and serving the ends of the "vital processes" of digestion, assimilation, and the like. He called these sets of organs the animal system and the organic system, respectively. The division thus pointed out was not quite new, for Grimaud, professor of physiology in the University of Montpellier, had earlier made what was substantially the same classification of the functions into "internal or digestive and external or locomotive"; but it was Bichat's exposition that gave currency to the idea.

Far more important, however, was another classification which Bichat put forward in his work on anatomy, published just at the beginning of the last century. This was the division of all animal structures into what Bichat called tissues, and the pointing out that there are really only a few kinds of these in the body, making up all the diverse organs. Thus muscular organs form one system; membranous organs another; glandular organs a third; the vascular mechanism a fourth, and so on. The distinction is so obvious that it seems rather difficult to conceive that it could have been overlooked by the earliest anatomists; but, in point of fact, it is only obvious because now it has been familiarly taught for almost a century. It had never been given explicit expression before the time of Bichat, though it is said that Bichat himself was somewhat indebted for it to his master, Desault, and to the famous alienist Pinel.

However that may be, it is certain that all subsequent anatomists have found Bichat's classification of the tissues of the utmost value in their studies of the animal functions. Subsequent advances were to show that the distinction between the various tissues is not really so fundamental as Bichat supposed, but that takes nothing from the practical value of the famous classification.

It was but a step from this scientific classification of tissues to a similar classification of the diseases affecting them, and this was one of the greatest steps towards placing medicine on the plane of an exact science. This subject of these branches completely fascinated Bichat, and he exclaimed, enthusiastically: "Take away some fevers and nervous trouble, and all else belongs to the kingdom of pathological anatomy." But out of this enthusiasm came great results. Bichat practised as he preached, and, believing that it was only possible to understand disease by observing the symptoms carefully at the bedside, and, if the disease terminated fatally, by post-mortem examination, he was so arduous in his pursuit of knowledge that within a period of less than six months he had made over six hundred autopsies—a record that has seldom, if ever, been equalled. Nor were his efforts fruitless, as a single example will suffice to show. By his examinations he was able to prove that diseases of the chest, which had formerly been classed under the indefinite name "peripneumonia," might involve three different structures, the pleural sac covering the lungs, the lung itself, and the bronchial tubes, the diseases affecting these organs being known respectively as pleuritis, pneumonia, and bronchitis, each one differing from the others as to prognosis and treatment. The advantage of such an exact classification needs no demonstration.

LISTER AND THE PERFECTED MICROSCOPE

At the same time when these broad macroscopical distinctions were being drawn there were other workers who were striving to go even deeper into the intricacies of the animal mechanism with the aid of the microscope. This undertaking, however, was beset with very great optical difficulties, and for a long time little advance was made upon the work of preceding generations. Two great optical barriers, known technically as spherical and chromatic aberration—the one due to a failure of the rays of light to fall all in one plane when focalized through a lens, the other due to the dispersive action of the lens in breaking the white light into prismatic colors—confronted the makers of microscopic lenses, and seemed all but insuperable. The making of achromatic lenses for telescopes had been accomplished, it is true, by Dolland in the previous century, by the union of lenses of crown glass with those of flint glass, these two materials having different indices of refraction and dispersion. But, aside from the mechanical difficulties which arise when the lens is of the minute dimensions required for use with the microscope, other perplexities are introduced by the fact that the use of a wide pencil of light is a desideratum, in order to gain sufficient illumination when large magnification is to be secured.