TALKS ON HEALTH.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16423, 11 May 1921, Page 6

TALKS ON HEALTH.

BY A FAMILY DOCTOR. HOW THE BLOOD CIRCULATES. I suppose you all know that the blood circulates round the body. The blood’s speed is very rapid ; it is not a leisurely crawl, but a high-speed pace that would astonish you if you could see it. The blood which is at this moment in the liver will be in the heart in a very few seconds, and a moment or two after that in the brain. It was a wonderful discovery, tho circulation of the blood. Have you ever heard the story ? The name of the great man immortalised by this discovery is William Harvey. Ho was born in 1578 in Folkestone. At this date, the state of the medical profession was one of black ignorance. They relied for their “learning” entirely on the writing of the Ancients. They sought their information about disease not at the bedside nor at the hospital, but in dusty tomes. But Harvey showed his greatness by seeking knowledge at first hand ; he scorn’d the authority of men who had lived centuries before, and bo went straight to Nature. He dissected human bodies and every animal he could find. He was puzzled by the action of the heart and could not accept the views held by his contemporaries. To us of the twentieth century it seems very strange to read of the old theories. Ono school taught that the sole use of the heart was to manufacture heat, as though it were a stove placed in the centre of the body to keep it warm. Another was that the heart’s business was to diffuse “spirits,” whatever they were, throughout the body. But no one before Harvey had any idea that the heart was a pump constantly receiving blood and pouring it out again. What put the older anatomists off the track was that whenever tho arteries were examined after death, they were always found empty; o.f course the blood coagulates and dries up, therefore they thought the arteries contained air during life. And the other puzzling fact was that when the arteries were traced out to their destination, they grew smaller and smaller until they disappeared- Naturally, they rhought the arteries came to an end. The minute blood-vessels that we of to-day call capillaries were unknown ; these littlo connecting channels between the arteries and veins were too small to be observed by their imperfect lenses. HARVEY'S STARTLING DISCOVERY. But Harvey, starting from nothing and closely observing the action of the heart und the structure of the bloodvessels in both the living and the dead, found that tho arteries, during life, contained nothing but blood—no spirits and no air—a startling revelation. He worked patiently for ten years, showing his work and speaking of his conclusions only to his intimate friends So staggering to the scientific world was the revelation that the blood circulated that he hardly had the courage to publish his work ; he thought he would be the laughingstock of the universe. But, emboldened by the certainty of the truth he had found, he declared to the world that the blotxl circulated round the body. Needless to say, his theories mot with grave opposition. Anatomists of English and foreign schools denounced him and gave many proofs to show that the blood could not possibly circulate 1 The British public erf that day—the early years of the seventeenth century—were very sceptical; they shook their wise heads and looked askance at poor Dr Harvey, whom they described as “ crack-brained.” The public felt they could have no confidence in a man who expressed such wild-cat ideas, and it is melancholy to relate that the doctor’s practice fell off in consequence of this loss of confidence. Harvey lived in the reign of Oil:tries the First, and although you may think that that monarch deserved to be beheaded, I hope you will remember in hi.s favour that ho befriended Harvey. His royal master showed a. striking cont rast to the general treatment the much-abused doctor received- The Fling made him his own physician, and the deer in the royal parks wore placed at Harvey’s disposal if he wished to carry out any experiments. A GREAT MEpiOO. Harvey was too much interested in science to _ care much about politics. The story is toicl that he accompanied the King to Edgehill, the Prince and the Duke of York being committed to his care. During the battle he withdrew with his charges and sat under a hedge reading a book “until a bullet from a great gun grazed the ground near him and then he moved his station.” He lived to be eighty years old and to see his discoveries universally accepted ; durincr his life his statue was placed in the College of Physicians. He was a great man, calm, dignified, and serene, and one whom all ’doctors are pround to honour. I hope you will not mind mv writing these few notes on his life and work. KEEPING MYSELF GRACEFUL. Do you know what my wife has given me? You would never guess! A punchball to keep mv muscles fit! I am not going to grow old for a long time yet. In fact, I am growing younger, but let it not be said that I have reached my second childhood yet. My punchball has a wide round base, a long thin steel neck and a football for a head ; it can hit back if lam not quick. I am hoping that the exercise it gives me during the winter months will keep the doctor away. Instead of allowing the fat to accumulate in an unsightly bulge under my waistcoat I expend my fat in energy punching into my punch-ball, and my figure remains trim and graceful. The best of a punch-ball is that it provides an outlet foil mental and moral stress as well as for muscular energy. Wiveß, buy your husbands punch balls and preserve their health and temper.

I TAKE THE DOWNWARD COURSE. All that is comedy, but now comes the tragedy. I happened to tell someone on the telephone that my wife had given me a punch-ball, and he mistook my words for Punch Bowl! The terrible news flew round the town like wildfii*o. “ Our doctor lias taken to drink; we always suspected him; we expect it is his wife that’s driven him to it, poor fellow-” And so on and so on, like a snowball, only a black one. And the other day I received a letter to say that I could not justifiably and conscientiously hold the post of Vice-President of the Semi-Teetotal League while all the time I was receiving Punch Bowls from all my friends. Another wrote to say that Punch is a strong liquid that destroys the coats of the stomach, and I could not help writing back to say that I did not care, as my stomach was strong enough to work in its shirtsleeves ! I am not sure how far the rumour has got now ; I rather think I am in an inebrifces’ home and not expected tc live. Meanwhile, I go on steadily and cheerily punching into my punch-ball.