[25.] Well, then, blood is thicker than water by reason of the proteids in the corpuscles, in the fibrin, and in the serum, but there is something else besides. I will not trouble you with the crowd of things of which there are perhaps just a few grains in a gallon of blood, like the little pinches of things a cook puts into a savoury dish; though, as you go on in your studies, you will find that these, like many other little things in the world, are of great importance.

But I will ask you to remember this. If you take some dried blood and burn it, though you may burn all the proteids (and some other of the trifles I spoke of just now) away, you will not be able to burn the whole blood away. Burn as long as you like, you will always have left a quantity of what you have learnt from your Chemistry to call ash, and if you were to examine this ash you would find it contained ever so many elements; sulphur, phosphorus, chlorine, potassium, sodium, calcium, and iron, being the most abundant and most important.

Blood, then, is a very wonderful fluid: wonderful for being made up of coloured corpuscles and colourless fluid, wonderful for its fibrin and power of clotting, wonderful for the many substances, for the proteids, for the ashes or minerals, for the rest of the things which are locked up in the corpuscles and in the serum.

But you will not wonder at it when you come to see that the blood is the great circulating market of the body, in which all the things that are wanted by all parts, by the muscles, by the brain, by the skin, by the lungs, liver, and kidney, are bought and sold. What the muscle wants, it, as we have seen, buys from the blood; what it has done with it sells back to the blood; and so with every other organ and part. As long as life lasts this buying and selling is for ever going on, and this is why the blood is for ever on the move, sweeping restlessly from place to place, bringing to each part the things it wants, and carrying away those with which it has done. When the blood ceases to move, the market is blocked, the buying and selling cease, and all the organs die, starved for the lack of the things which they want, choked by the abundance of things for which they have no longer any need.

We have now to learn how the blood is thus kept continually on the move.

HOW THE BLOOD MOVES. § V.

[26.] You have already learnt to recognize the blood-vessels of the rabbit, and to distinguish two kinds of blood-vessels—the arteries, which in a dead animal generally contain little or no blood, and have rather firm stout walls; and the veins, which are generally full of blood, and have thinner and flabby walls. The arteries when you cut them generally gape and remain open; the veins fall together and collapse. The larger the arteries, the stouter and firmer they are, and the greater the difference between them and the veins.

You have also studied the capillaries in the frog’s foot; you have seen that they are minute channels, with the thinnest and tenderest walls, forming a close network in which the smallest arteries end, and from which the smallest veins begin.

You have moreover been told that all over your own body, in every part, there are, though you cannot see them, networks of capillaries like those in the frog’s foot which you can see; that all the arteries of your body end in capillaries, and all the veins begin in capillaries. Let me repeat that, one or two structures excepted, there is no part of your body in which, could you put it under a microscope, you would not see a small artery branching out and losing itself in a network of capillaries, out of which, as out of so many roots, a small vein gathers itself together again.

In some places the network is very close, the capillaries lying closer together than even in the frog’s foot; in others the network is more open, and the capillaries wider apart; but everywhere, with a few exceptions which you will learn by and by, there are capillaries, arteries, and veins.