“Dies scheint wohl die kurze Lungenvene zu sein. Schneider bezieht dies auf die Vorkammern, allein diese werden unten als Höhlen des Herzens beschrieben.”
I am disposed to think, on the contrary, that the words refer simply to the cavity of the pericardium. For a part of this cavity (sinus transversus pericardii) lies between the aorta, on the one hand, and the pulmonary vessels with the bifurcation of the trachea, on the other hand, and is much more conspicuous in some animals than in man. It is strictly correct, therefore, in Aristotle’s words, to say that where the heart and the windpipe are connected “it is hollow.” If he had meant to speak of one of the pulmonary veins, or of any of the cavities of the heart, he would have used the terms πόροι or κοιλίας which he always employs for these parts.
According to Aristotle, then, the air taken into the lungs passes, from the final ramifications of the bronchial tubes into the corresponding branches of the pulmonary blood-vessels, not through openings, but by transudation, or, as we should nowadays say, diffusion, through the thin partitions formed by the applied coats of the two sets of canals. But the “pneuma” which thus reached the interior of the blood-vessels was not, in Aristotle’s opinion, exactly the same thing as the air. It was “ἀὴρ πολὺς ῥέων καὶ ἀθρόος” (“De Mundo,” iv. 9)—subtilised and condensed air; and it is hard to make out whether Aristotle considered it to possess the physical properties of an elastic fluid or those of a liquid. As he affirms that all the cavities of the heart contain blood (F), it is clear that he did not hold the erroneous view propounded in the next generation by Erasistratus. On the other hand, the fact that he supposes that the spermatic arteries do not contain blood but only an αἱματῶδης ὑγρόν (“Hist. Animalium,” iii. 1), shows that his notions respecting the contents of the arteries were vague. Nor does he seem to have known that the pulse is characteristic only of the arteries; and as he thought that the arteries end in solid fibrous bands, he naturally could not have entertained the faintest conception of the true motion of the blood. But, without attempting to read into Aristotle modern conceptions which never entered his mind, it is only just to observe that his view of what becomes of the air taken into the lungs is by no means worthy of contempt as a gross error. On the contrary, here, as in the case of his anatomy of the heart, what Aristotle asserts is true as far as it goes. Something does actually pass from the air contained in the lungs through the coats of the vessels into the blood, and thence to the heart; to wit, oxygen. And I think that it speaks very well for ancient Greek science that the investigator of so difficult a physiological problem as that of respiration, should have arrived at a conclusion, the statement of which, after the lapse of more than two thousand years, can be accepted as a thoroughly established scientific truth.
I trust that the case in favour of removing the statements about the heart, from the list of the “errors of Aristotle” is now clear; and that the evidence proves, on the contrary, that they justify us in forming a very favourable estimate of the oldest anatomical investigations among the Greeks of which any sufficient record remains.
But is Aristotle to be credited with the merit of having ascertained so much of the truth? This question will not appear superfluous to those who are acquainted with the extraordinary history of Aristotle’s works, or who adopt the conclusion of Aubert and Wimmer, that, of the ten books of the “Historia Animalium” which have come down to us, three are largely or entirely spurious, and that the others contain many interpolations by later writers.
It so happens, however, that, apart from other reasons, there are satisfactory internal grounds for ascribing the account of the heart to a writer of the time at which Aristotle lived. For, within thirty years of his death, the anatomists of the Alexandrian school had thoroughly investigated the structure and the functions of the valves of the heart. During this time, the manuscripts of Aristotle were in the possession of Theophrastus; and no interpolator of later date would have shown that he was ignorant of the nature and significance of these important structures, by the brief and obscure allusion—“in its cavities there are tendons” (A). On the other hand, Polybus, whose account of the vascular system is quoted in the “Historia Animalium” was an elder contemporary of Aristotle. Hence, if any part of the work faithfully represents that which Aristotle taught, we may safely conclude that the description of the heart does so. Having granted this much, however, it is another question, whether Aristotle is to be regarded as the first discoverer of the facts which he has so well stated, or whether he, like other men, was the intellectual child of his time and simply carried on a step or two the work which had been commenced by others.
On the subject of Aristotle’s significance as an original worker in biology extraordinarily divergent views have been put forward. If we are to adopt Cuvier’s estimate, Aristotle was simply a miracle:—
“Avant Aristote la philosophie, entièrement spéculative, se perdait dans les abstractions dépourvues de fondement; la science n’existait pas. Il semble qu’elle soit sortie toute faite du cerveau d’Aristote comme Minerve, toute armée, du cerveau de Jupiter. Seul, en effet, sans antécédents, sans rien emprunter aux siècles qui l’avaient précédé, puisqu’ils n’avaient rien produit de solide, le disciple de Platon découvrit et démontra plus de vérités, executa plus de travaux scientifiques en un vie de soixante-deux ans, qu’après lui vingt siècles n’en ont pu faire,”[39] etc. etc.
“Aristote est le premier qui ait introduit la méthode de l’induction, de la comparaison des observations pour en faire sortir des idées générales, et celle de l’expérience pour multiplier les faits dont ces idées générales peuvent être déduites.”—ii. p. 515.