Body, Frailty of—See [House, The Mortal].
BODY, MASTERING THE
I think of the delicacy and perfection of much of R. L. Stevenson’s work—just the kind of writing which a man might plead could not be done except in moments of inspiration and in favorable conditions. Then I remember how that delicate style was attained by years of severe drill, and when the instrument had been perfected, it was used with conscientious diligence in face of every conceivable hindrance. When, after hemorrhage, his right hand is in a sling, he writes some of his “Child’s Garden of Verses” with his left hand; when the hemorrhage has been so bad that he may not even speak, he dictates a novel in the deaf and dumb alphabet. He writes to George Meredith: “For fourteen years I have not had a day’s real health. I have written in bed, written in hemorrhages, written in sickness, written torn by coughing, written when my head swam for weakness; and for so long, it seems to me, I have won my wager and recovered my glove. The battle goes on—ill or well is a trifle, so as it goes. I was made for contest, and the powers have so willed that my battle-field should be this dingy, inglorious one of the bed and the physic-bottle.” No wonder that he could say: “I frankly believe (thanks to my dire industry) I have done more with smaller gifts than almost any man of letters in the world.” And yet this man declared that he labored only for art, and that the end of art was to give pleasure! If such a motive can command such devotion, what is not possible for us who serve the Savior, for us whose end is the salvation of men and the redemption of the world!—W. W. B. Emery, Christian World Pulpit.
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Body, The, as a House—See [House of the Soul].
BODY, THE HUMAN
The human body is a marvelous machine with a storage of power. It is estimated that if all the beats of the heart in a single day could be concentrated in one huge throb of vital power, it would be sufficient to throw a ton of iron 120 feet into the air. An electrical engineer has affirmed that this expended heart-energy is equal to a two-candle power of an incandescent electrical lamp; or, if converted into cold light, this amount of power would represent forty candles. If a man had some such organ as a firefly has he could surround himself with light enough to live by without artificial lighting.
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A scientific writer, speaking of the human body in its marvelous mechanism, calls it an epitome of all mechanics, of all hydraulics, of all machinery. It has all the bars, levers, pulleys, wheels, axles and buffers known to science. All the more than three hundred movements included in modern mechanics are simply modifications and variations of those found in the human body—adaptations of processes and first principles employed in the human organism.