These observations relate particularly to the epidemic of 1854, which was more carefully watched than the two former; but the results are similar for each.

“The three epidemics,” says Mr Glashier, in summing up the results of his inquiry, “were attended with a particular state of atmosphere, characterized by a prevalent mist, thin in high places, dense in low. During the height of the epidemic, in all cases, the reading of the barometer was remarkably high, the atmosphere thick; and in 1849 and 1854 the temperature above its average. A total absence of rain, and a stillness of air amounting almost to calm, accompanied the progress of the disease on each occasion. In places near the river, the night temperatures were high, with small diurnal range, with a dense torpid mist and air charged with the many impurities arising from the exhalations of the Thames, and adjoining marshes; a deficiency of electricity, and, as shown in 1854, a total absence of ozone, most probably destroyed by the decomposition of the organic matter with which the air in these situations is so strongly charged.

“In both 1849 and 1854, the first decline of the disease was marked by a decrease in the readings of the barometer, and in the temperature of the air and water; the air, which previously had for a long time continued calm, was succeeded by a strong S. W. wind, which soon dissipated the former stagnant and poisonous atmosphere.”

We knew before that such influences were in operation, but they had not been weighed and measured. We now know definitely something of an epidemic atmosphere, and the information obtained is most significant; for it shows that the several meteorological changes that take place during the prevalence of an epidemic concur to produce a heavy, warm, moist, and stagnant atmosphere, with disturbed electricity: conditions highly favourable to the decomposition of organic matter.

Under the influence of such an atmosphere, over the moist and warmed surface of every filthy place, over the entire mass of all accumulations of filth in streets, lanes, and courts, and within and about houses, and over the heated surface of all foul water, decomposition goes on with the utmost activity, and the products are poured into the stagnant air.

Against such products the human body has no defence. The lungs admit whatever is brought to them—poisonous and salubrious substances alike. They are guarded by none of those protective contrivances which we see in some other parts of the body. Whatever is capable of suspension in the respired air passes with it directly into the current of the circulation, and when once there, is carried with astonishing rapidity into the very substance of the vital organs.

From the quantity of air which the lungs receive, some conception may be formed of the amount of obnoxious matter which may be introduced into the system through these portals.

At each inspiration there enter the lungs of an ordinary-sized person about 20 cubic inches of air. There are 20 respirations in a minute: 400 cubic inches of air must therefore enter in one minute; 14 cubic feet in one hour, and 366 cubic feet, or 36 hogsheads, in one day. To meet this the heart sends into the lungs at each contraction two ounces of blood; there are 75 pulsations in a minute, during which 150 ounces are propelled into the lungs; a quantity which gives 562 pounds in one hour and 24 hogsheads in 24 hours.

The main purpose for bringing these enormous quantities of air and blood together, with such velocity, is to provide for the enormous waste which is caused by the rapid and unceasing mutation of organic matter. The activity of an organ is sustained at the expense of the matter of which it is composed. No thought passes through the mind, but an equivalent portion of the substance of the brain is consumed; no nervous current flows along the nervous conducters, but a corresponding portion of nervous tissue is used up; no muscular movement, no glandular secretion, takes place without a proportionate waste of muscle and of gland. What must be the amount of supply required to meet this waste, when able-bodied men employed in their ordinary labour lose from 2 lbs. to 5 lbs. and upwards of their weight twice a day.[[8]] Some physiologists of eminence have estimated that in order to supply that waste, there passes in the course of every 24 hours as much fluid through the thoracic duct[[9]] as equals the whole quantity of blood in the body.

[8]. See Experiments on the daily loss of weight sustained by workmen employed in gas-works.—Philosophy of Health, 11th Edit. p. 284, et seq.