How difficult is it to teach those who have no experience, the things of which they have not any knowledge by their senses! And how useless and intractable, and unimpregnable to true science are such auditors! They show the judgment of the blind in regard to colours, of the deaf in reference to concords. Who ever pretended to teach the ebb and flow of the tide, or from a diagram to demonstrate the measurements of the angles and the proportions of the sides of a triangle to a blind man, or to one who had never seen the sea nor a diagram? He who is not conversant with anatomy, inasmuch as he forms no conception of the subject from the evidence of his own eyes, is virtually blind to all that concerns anatomy, and unfit to appreciate what is founded thereon; he knows nothing of that which occupies the attention of the anatomist, nor of the principles inherent in the nature of the things which guide him in his reasonings; facts and inferences as well as their sources are alike unknown to such a one. But no kind of science can possibly flow, save from some pre-existing knowledge of more obvious things; and this is one main reason why our science in regard to the nature of celestial bodies, is so uncertain and conjectural. I would ask of those who profess a knowledge of the causes of all things, why the two eyes keep constantly moving together, up or down, to this side or to that, and not independently, one looking this way, another that; why the two auricles of the heart contract simultaneously, and the like? Are fevers, pestilence, and the wonderful properties of various medicines to be denied because their causes are unknown? Who can tell us why the fœtus in utero, breathing no air up to the tenth month of its existence, is yet not suffocated? Born in the course of the seventh or eighth month, and having once breathed, it is nevertheless speedily suffocated if its respiration be interrupted. Why can the fœtus still contained within the uterus, or enveloped in the membranes, live without respiration; whilst once exposed to the air, unless it breathes it inevitably dies?[52]

Observing that many hesitate to acknowledge the circulation, and others oppose it, because, as I conceive, they have not rightly understood me, I shall here recapitulate briefly what I have said in my work on the Motion of the Heart and Blood. The blood contained in the veins, in its magazine, and where it is collected in largest quantity, viz. in the vena cava, close to the base of the heart and right auricle, gradually increasing in temperature by its internal heat, and becoming attenuated, swells and rises like bodies in a state of fermentation, whereby the auricle being dilated, and then contracting, in virtue of its pulsative power, forthwith delivers its charge into the right ventricle; which being filled, and the systole ensuing, the charge, hindered from returning into the auricle by the tricuspid valves, is forced into the pulmonary artery, which stands open to receive it, and is immediately distended with it. Once in the pulmonary artery, the blood cannot return, by reason of the sigmoid valves; and then the lungs, alternately expanded and contracted during inspiration and expiration, afford it passage by the proper vessels into the pulmonary veins; from the pulmonary veins, the left auricle, acting equally and synchronously with the right auricle, delivers the blood into the left ventricle; which acting harmoniously with the right ventricle, and all regress being prevented by the mitral valves, the blood is projected into the aorta, and consequently impelled into all the arteries of the body. The arteries, filled by this sudden push, as they cannot discharge themselves so speedily, are distended; they receive a shock, or undergo their diastole. But as this process goes on incessantly, I infer that the arteries both of the lungs and of the body at large, under the influence of such a multitude of strokes of the heart and injections of blood, would finally become so over-gorged and distended, that either any further injection must cease, or the vessels would burst, or the whole blood in the body would accumulate within them, were there not an exit provided for it.

The same reasoning is applicable to the ventricles of the heart: distended by the ceaseless action of the auricles, did they not disburthen themselves by the channels of the arteries, they would by and by become over-gorged, and be fixed and made incapable of all motion. Now this, my conclusion, is true and necessary, if my premises be true; but that these are either true or false, our senses must inform us, not our reason—ocular inspection, not any process of the mind.

I maintain further, that the blood in the veins always and everywhere flows from less to greater branches, and from every part towards the heart; whence I gather that the whole charge which the arteries receive, and which is incessantly thrown into them, is delivered to the veins, and flows back by them to the source whence it came. In this way, indeed, is the circulation of the blood established: by an efflux and reflux from and to the heart; the fluid being forcibly projected into the arterial system, and then absorbed and imbibed from every part by the veins, it returns through these in a continuous stream. That all this is so, sense assures us; and necessary inference from the perceptions of sense takes away all occasion for doubt. Lastly, this is what I have striven, by my observations and experiments, to illustrate and make known; I have not endeavoured from causes and probable principles to demonstrate my propositions, but, as of higher authority, to establish them by appeals to sense and experiment, after the manner of anatomists.

And here I would refer to the amount of force, even of violence, which sight and touch make us aware of in the heart and greater arteries; and to the systole and diastole constituting the pulse in the large warm-blooded animals, which I do not say is equal in all the vessels containing blood, nor in all animals that have blood; but which is of such a nature and amount in all, that a flow and rapid passage of the blood through the smaller arteries, the interstices of the tissues, and the branches of the veins, must of necessity take place; and therefore there is a circulation.

For neither do the most minute arteries, nor the veins, pulsate; but the larger arteries and those near the heart pulsate, because they do not transmit the blood so quickly as they receive it.[53] Having exposed an artery, and divided it so that the blood shall flow out as fast and freely as it is received, you will scarcely perceive any pulse in that vessel; and for the simple reason, that an open passage being afforded, the blood escapes, merely passing through the vessel, not distending it. In fishes, serpents, and the colder animals, the heart beats so slowly and feebly, that a pulse can scarcely be perceived in the arteries; the blood in them is transmitted gradually. Whence in them, as also in the smaller branches of the arteries in man, there is no distinction between the coats of the arteries and veins, because the arteries have to sustain no shock from the impulse of the blood.

An artery denuded and divided in the way I have indicated, sustains no shock, and therefore does not pulsate; whence it clearly appears that the arteries have no inherent pulsative power, and that neither do they derive any from the heart; but that they undergo their diastole solely from the impulse of the blood; for in the full stream, flowing to a distance, you may see the systole and diastole, all the motions of the heart—their order, force, rhythm, &c.,[54] as it were in a mirror, and even perceive them by the touch. Precisely as in the water that is forced aloft, through a leaden pipe, by working the piston of a forcing-pump, each stroke of which, though the jet be many feet distant, is nevertheless distinctly perceptible,—the beginning, increasing strength, and end of the impulse, as well as its amount, and the regularity or irregularity with which it is given, being indicated, the same precisely is the case from the orifice of a divided artery; whence, as in the instance of the forcing engine quoted, you will perceive that the efflux is uninterrupted, although the jet is alternately greater and less. In the arteries, therefore, besides the concussion or impulse of the blood, the pulse or beat of the artery, which is not equally exhibited in all, there is a perpetual flow and motion of the blood, which returns in an unbroken stream to the point from whence it commenced—the right auricle of the heart.

All these points you may satisfy yourself upon, by exposing one of the longer arteries, and having taken it between your finger and thumb, dividing it on the side remote from the heart. By the greater or less pressure of your fingers, you can have the vessel pulsating less or more, or losing the pulse entirely, and recovering it at will. And as these things proceed thus when the chest is uninjured, so also do they go on for a short time when the thorax is laid open, and the lungs having collapsed, all the respiratory motions have ceased; here, nevertheless, for a little while you may perceive the left auricle contracting and emptying itself, and becoming whiter; but by and by growing weaker and weaker, it begins to intermit, as does the left ventricle also, and then it ceases to beat altogether, and becomes quiescent. Along with this, and in the same measure, does the stream of blood from the divided artery grow less and less, the pulse of the vessel weaker and weaker, until at last, the supply of blood and the impulse of the left ventricle failing, nothing escapes from it. You may perform the same experiment, tying the pulmonary veins, and so taking away the pulse of the left auricle, or relaxing the ligature, and restoring it at pleasure. In this experiment, too, you will observe what happens in moribund animals—viz. that the left ventricle first ceases from pulsation and motion, then the left auricle, next the right ventricle, finally the right auricle; so that where the vital force and pulse first begin, there do they also last fail.

All of these particulars having been recognized by the senses, it is manifest that the blood passes through the lungs, not through the septum [in its course from the right to the left side of the heart], and only through them when they are moved in the act of respiration, not when they are collapsed and quiescent; whence we see the probable reason wherefore nature has instituted the foramen ovale in the fœtus, instead of sending the blood by the way of the pulmonary artery into the left auricle and ventricle, which foramen she closes when the new-born creature begins to breathe freely. We can also now understand why, when the vessels of the lungs become congested and oppressed, and in those who are affected with serious diseases, it should be so dangerous and fatal a symptom when the respiratory organs become implicated.

We perceive further, why the blood is so florid in the lungs, which is, because it is thinner, as having there to undergo filtration.