actions of the spinal cord will not take place without the participation of the sympathetic system; every one knows how a brain troubled with anxiety or exhausted in work will affect the digestion, circulation, &c., and how good digestion and healthy nutrition affect the mind. So that, in separating the streams of nervous influence, we must remember the activity of one will always be at the expense of another. No sooner is this conception clear to the mind, than it at once irradiates a number of obscure questions, and among them this now immediately pressing for an answer, respecting the disparity between large and small animals in vivacity and intelligence. It gives us this law : The activity of the animal functions bears an inverse proportion to the demands made by the organic functions. In other words, wherever a given amount of nervous energy has to supply a large area of organic life, it will have proportionately less to bestow on vivacity and intelligence. The smaller animals will, other things being equal, be the most active and intelligent. Thus the amount of nervous matter which, in the rhinoceros and hippopotamus, being largely consumed by the demands of nutrition, &c., has only a small surplus for activity and intelligence, would, in the smaller frame of a lion, make him the most vivacious and intelligent of beasts. The weight of a mouse's brain, compared with the weight of its body, is computed by Anderson* as bearing the proportion of 100 to 3500 only, while the brain of a sheep is as 100 to 22,600; and that of a turtle as 100 to 454,500! which pretty well indicates their respective activity and intelligence. Now although, as Cuvier remarks, it is impossible to arrive at any very precise figures in such estimates, owing to the variations in the size of the animals (and, we may add, variations * in their nervous development), one author having made the proportion of the dog's brain to that of his body as I to 47, another as 1 to 305; one author that of a cat as I to 82, another as I to 156;† still it is pos sible to establish a rough approximate estimate which will suffice for the present inquiry, and which is in favour of the comparatively larger brain of the smaller animals. We say comparatively, because the brain of a man, for example, is absolutely much smaller than the brain of an elephant, but the proportion it bears to his body is as 1 to 25 or 30, while that of the elephant is as I to 500, according to Cuvier. Let us assume for a moment that the nervous energy of an elephant be an amount represented by 60, and that of a man no more than 20; yet, if the elephant expends 40 upon nutrition, and 15 upon locomotion, he will only have a surplus of 5 for sensibility; whereas man, expending 6 upon nutrition, and 4 upon locomotion, will have a surplus of 10 for sensibility. It is notorious that over-eating diminishes intellectual activity, and that great bodily activity does the same, while great mental activity damages our nutritive system. The gourmand is indolent; the athlete is an idiot; the student a dyspeptic. After a meal, the languid reptile sinks into torpor, all his nervous energy being absorbed by nutrition; after any great nervous excitement, the appetite is for a time destroyed. These, and a hundred familiar facts, illustrate our position, that the great vivacity and intelligence of small animals is not owing to their circulating current having a smaller area to traverse (which is only one ele ment in the problem), but is owing to their smaller bodies demanding a smaller distribution of the nervous nutritive stream, thereby leaving a larger surplus for the sensitive and locomotive streams. Two men of equal size and equal nervous de velopment, will nevertheless present great inequalities in vivacity and Comp. Anat. of the Nervous System, 1837, p. 27. + Leçons d'Anat. Comp. ii. 148. The reader of course understands these figures to be purely illustrative; and we may further add, that throughout we are assuming, in common with all physiologists, that the brain is the organ' of the mind, and that according to the perfection of the organ will be the perfection of the music. A penny cannot rival a trumpet, nor an ill-developed brain one well-developed. whistle 1856.] Relation of the Animal to the Organic Functions. intelligence; the popular explanation of which would be, that the two were men of different temperaments.' And this is true; but how does the difference of temperament intervene ? Thus the nutritive processes in the one will be more rapid than in the other; he will be quick, restless, excitable-the other, slow, indolent, and meditative; and although the circuit traversed by the blood is in each of equal area, the affluence of nervous energy to a particular system will in each be different. One man has a more expensive organic system than the other, and his animal system must pay the balance. The same law holds good with respect to all subdivisions of sensibility. The petulance and excitability of the activities and senses being always at the expense of the higher meditative powers; and although we sometimes see these conjoined with great intellect, they are then terribly exhaustive of the nutritive system; so that the spectacle of a man at once vigorous, healthy, and active in body, restless in movement, with excitable senses, and great powers of continuous meditation, has never yet been presented. We sweep round from this digression to the point from which we started, and start afresh with something like a clue to lead us to a probable issue. Dwarfs have large heads and small bodies; they are always vivacious, often intelligent. Giants have small heads and large bodies; they are always dull, and mostly idiotic. Professor Owen, in his description of the skeleton of O'Byrne, the largest man of whose size we have unequivocal evidence, says his cranium presents the long narrow form; it is proportionately much depressed, and with a narrow, low, retreating forehead, the cavity for the brain not exceeding that of an European of ordinary stature;' so that with a body of enormous stature, his brain was no larger than that of an ordinary man; and although he was not the imbecile creature most giants are, he was imbecile in comparison with his atomic friend Boruwlaski. 291 seems to contradict all we have just maintained; seems, but does not really. Dwarfs are anomalies. Every one who has attended to anomalies of structure, is aware that they are sometimes grave and sometimes superficial, sometimes general and sometimes partial; everything depends on the period of evolution. at which the disturbing influence comes into play the younger the embryo, the profounder the alteration. A dwarf may present simply the anomaly of growth; in this case, as we saw in Boruwlaski, his deve lopment is undisturbed, he is vivacious and intelligent. But the dwarf may also present an anomaly of development; his spine may be rickety (and often is); his brain may be imperfect, as we saw in Bébé, and then he is deformed or idiotic. But even then he is vivacious; then, as always, his nervous activity is displayed more obviously, because less is expended on the processes of nutrition. And does our law apply to little men and big men? The reader is certain to make the application, therefore we will, in passing, say a word on it. As a general fact, it has long been recognised that the smaller men are the most vigorous and intellectual; but very numerous exceptions will at once occur to every one. There are many little men unhappily of unmistakeable dulness, and large men (Thackeray, for example) of unmistakeable power. But although the statement admits of numerous exceptions, the rule admits of none; no rule ever does. In these exceptional instances we shall find,Firstly, that the small man has a small brain, or an expensive organic system; secondly, that the large man has a large brain, or an inexpensive organic system; or finally, that the small man who is intellectually obtuse, is emotionally, sensationally, and bodily excitable; while the large man is indolent, or moderately emotional and sensational. One important distinction, which hitherto we have kept out of sight, because it does not really affect our arguA difficulty here presents itself: ment, must now be noticed, lest it be dwarfs are sometimes, as in the case adduced against the law we have of Bébé, nearly idiotic; and this laid down. We have throughout * assumed that a given mass of nervous centres will exhibit a constant ratio of power; whereas physiologists know that two centres equal in volume will be very unequal in power. Il y a fagot et fagot. The brain of one animal, though no larger than the brain of another, will be far more active. Parchappe declares among human beings he has seen men with heads little larger, nay even smaller, than the heads of idiots, who nevertheless manifested normal intelligence; and this is no more than the known differences of development and of elementary composition between nervous system and nervous system, would lead us to expect. But while insisting on this point, we remark that it only complicates our difficulty in deciding on special cases; it does not contravene the law that the activity of the animal functions bears a constant and inverse proportion to the demands made by the organic functions;' it does not contravene our position that the amount of energy which the nervous system can bestow on the locomotive and sensitive functions depends on the area of the nutritive system. We now approach the last and most delicate question we shall have to treat in this essay: What causes the arrest of growth or development which constitutes a dwarf or a giant? The answer to this must necessarily be hypothetical; nor will the hypothesis be very explicit, for knowledge here is by no means full and accurate. With this warning, we will venture on the best explanation we can furnish. Here, as elsewhere, to approach the unknown we must pass through the avenues of the known; we can only penetrate the obscure by throwing a bridge over from the familiar. Now the familiar phenomena most analogous to these of dwarfs and giants, are atrophy and hypertrophy; unhappily these phenomena themselves are only partially understood. We may however consider a dwarf as a being in whom the nutri tive system has been atrophied while the animal development has gone on at the normal rate, and a giant as a being whose nutritive system has been hypertrophied. This definition is not meant to be exact, but only to connect the phenomena with the phenomena of atrophy and hypertrophy. Let us look at what is known of these. 'I think,' says Mr. Simon, 'it may be stated as a general fact in the economy, that if the nutritive conditions be perfect, if the blood and the organs be what they should be, whenever the active structures of the body renew themselves, they do that and something more. Nature gives them enough for their necessities, and for something beyond it; they renew themselves more largely and luxuriantly than in their original condition.'+ Having stated the fact, this acute thinker and admirable writer adds, 'Of this general fact, or law, I can give no causal expla nation.' We have, therefore, at present, only to suppose that in the giant, the something more is considerably greater, and in the dwarf considerably less, than normal. The step in advance thus taken is but small; Mr. Paget, however, may help us onwards. He shows how any part, after it has attained its normal size, according to the time of life, may grow larger if it be more exercised. When this growth is the result of natural, though almost excessive, exercise, we regard it as an indication of health, and the result is admitted to be a desirable accession of strength. Examples -the arms of a blacksmith, or the legs of a dancer. But when not the result of natural exercise, but the consequence of a disease in some other part, it bears the name of hypertrophy, and is no longer reputed desirable. Nevertheless, in both cases the process of growth is the same. The conditions which give rise to hypertrophy are:-Firstly, the increased exercise of a part in its healthy functions; Secondly, an increased accumulation in the blood of the particular materials which *Recherches sur l'Encéphale, 1836, p. 34. Lectures on Surgical Pathology, 1853. A work not less remarkable for its candour and modesty than for its profound and simple treatment of a very complex subject. 1856.] What causes Arrest of Growth or Development? the part appropriates to its nutrition; Thirdly, an increased afflux of healthy blood. The last two conditions only can apply to giants, since their growth is notoriously independent of increased exercise; and of these the first-named alone can be the initial cause. The chemical condition of the blood-or, more correctly speaking, its organic constitution seems, therefore, to be the proximate cause of the gigantic hypertrophy. What is the cause of that condition? We do not know. Climate, and other geographical influences, affect the normal size of plants and animals; moist valleys and fertile plains presenting the largest species, while the arid mountainous districts have only stunted herbs and smaller animals. Buffon endeavoured to establish it as a generalisation, that the size of the fauna was always in the ratio of the area it inhabited. Virey makes humidity the preponderating condition, and refers to this as the cause of the largest creatures being inhabitants of the waters. But all such indications fail us when our search is after abnormal growth. We want to know what causes the appearance of a giant in a species subject to the same general conditions as himself. The blood of one man differs from the blood of another, differs also at different ages in his own system: what will make it differ so widely from that of other men as to cause gigantic hypertrophy? Will food? Bishop Berkeley, according to Watkinson,* determined on trying the experiment. He took a poor orphan, and reared him on certain hygienic principles, which in one sense succeeded, for his protégé attained the height of seven feet eight inches; but in another sense the experiment was fatal, for the giant was an old man before he reached his teens, and died at twenty, thoroughly worn out. We have unhappily no record of the principles which produced such a result, nor indeed is the story given on very satisfactory evidence. At any rate our cattle-feeders cannot produce giants; they feed ani 293 mals into monsters of fat, but not into giants. If we say that the blood of a giant is richer in assimilative principles, or is so organized that it admits of more rapid molecular changes, we do not indeed solve the problem, but we limit it. Another solution may suggest itself— namely, that the vascular system of the giant is from the first laid down on a larger scale; and thus, having larger heart and arteries, he has at all periods of life more blood to send to the tissues for their nutrition. Against this, however, there are two serious objections. First, we have the authority of Professor Owen for asserting that in the animal series there is no relation between the size of heart and arteries, and rapid or ultimately attained buik, whether by quick or slow growth. Secondly, we have already seen that giants are born of ordinary size, continue to grow at the ordinary rate until puberty, and then suddenly spring up into unusual bulk; or they are gigantic children, and at puberty cease their rate of increase; cases which are explicable on the supposition of a change in the organic composition of the blood, but quite adverse to any notion of the vascular system suddenly be. coming enlarged or diminished, because this vascular system itself is subject to the general conditions of growth. This reasoning equally applies to the obverse case of the dwarf. In him there has been, not the atrophy of disease, but the diminishing growth' which results from his blood having less of that something more' necessary to repair and increase. But the darkness thickens as our steps advance, and feebler, feebler burns the torch with which we grope our way. Let us pause here, and wait for more light. When Physiology shall have itself become clearer on these obscure questions of Growth and Development, we may hope to explain the anomalies of Dwarfs and Giants. G. H. L. * Philosophical Survey of Ireland, p. 187, 1777; cited by M. St.-Hilaire. A MAUD VIVIAN. CHAPTER I. ND so you have a new rector at last ?' The lady who made this remark threw herself yet more languidly back in the low chair upon which she was seated, as though the subject were one of supreme indifference to herself. Lady Giffard, who had been listening with forced attention to a recapitulation of her sister's struggles and triumphs in the London season, just drawn to a close, assumed an air of greater interest as the conversation seemed to return to the precincts of her own home, from which she seldom wandered. Yes; Mr. Sutton has now been three months amongst us,' she replied, and has done as much in those three months as it seems possible man could do.' Oh, of course,' returned her sister. Daily service, I suppose; night schools and day schools, parish visiting and parish meetings-one hears of the same thing everywhere. What sort of person is he? Presentable ?' 'Perfectly,' replied Lady Giffard, gravely; he is one of the Staffordshire Suttons, an old family, as you know.' And a poor one,' added Mrs. Vivian. The conversation languished; neither had subjects in common with the other. Lady Giffard was a widow, and lived in retirement in the country; her sister mixed as much in the gay world as it is possible for people of good family and small fortune to do. Two girls sat at the farther end of the same apartment; the contrast between them was not less than that which subsisted between their parents. Nature had given to Maud Vivian both beauty and grace: art had cultivated both to the very uttermost; perhaps a very critical eye might have detected something too obviously artificial in her manner and appearance, but she was lovely enough to disarm ordinary criticism, and what was acquired in her sat upon her so easily that it might readily have been taken for what was natural. She was turning over a large assortment of books from a London library, with a slight air of superciliousness: there was not one amongst them that she had not already seen, nor one which she considered worth reading which she had not read. Grace Giffard was not beautiful at all, nor had she enjoyed greater advantages in the way of education than such as fall to the usual lot of young ladies educated entirely in the country. The organist in the cathedral town had been her musicmaster; modern languages she found herself less lost in when reading than when speaking; drawing she certainly excelled in, but it was rather from natural taste and talent than from superior instruction. Maud's playing and singing were scarcely inferior to the first-rate masters from whom she had acquired them; she spoke to Frenchmen and Germans as fluently as to Englishmen; her drawings were a faithful transcript of the style of one of the best artists of the day. The conversation which we have detailed between Lady Giffard and Mrs. Vivian was heard by both Maud and Grace. No shadow of interest was displayed in it by Maud; an angry flush passed as she listened over the cheek of Grace, who, folding up a few moments afterwards the work on which she had been engaged, quietly left the apartment. Another careless survey of the unsatisfactory volumes, and Maud walked languidly to the window. 'I must apologize for Grace,' said Lady Giffard; she has gone, I doubt not, on a visit to a poor neighbour, which could not well be deferred; she will be back presently, I dare say.' Maud bowed. I cannot offer you the ponies this morning, as we have a dinnerparty to-day, and George is too fully employed for me to venture to order the carriage; but if either of you like a stroll, I shall be glad to be your companion.' |