Part 29

The woman does not think profoundly; profound thought is the prerogative of the man; but women feel more. They rule with tender looks, tears, and sighs, but not with passion and threats, unless they are monstrosities. They are capable of the sweetest sensibility, the deepest emotion, the utmost humility, and ardent enthusiasm. In their faces are signs of sanctity which every man honours.

Owing to their extreme sensibility and their incapacity for accurate inquiry and firm decision, they may easily become fanatics.

The love of women, strong as it is, is very changeable; but their hatred is almost incurable, and is only to be overcome by persistent and artful flattery. Men usually see things as a whole, whereas women take more interest in details.

Women have less physical courage than men. Man hears the bursting thunders, views the destructive bolt with serene aspect, and stands erect amid the fearful majesty of the torrent. But woman trembles at the lightning and thunder, and seeks refuge in the arms of man.

Woman is formed for pity and religion; and a woman without religion is monstrous; and a woman who is a freethinker is more disgusting than a woman with a beard.

Woman is not a foundation on which to build. She is the gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble--the materials for building on the male foundation. She is the leaven, or, more expressly, she is oil to the vinegar of man. Man singly is but half a man, only half human--a king without a kingdom. Woman must rest upon the man, and man can be what he ought to be only in conjunction with the woman.

Some of the principal physiognomical contrasts may be summarised here.

Man is the most firm; woman the most flexible.

Man is the straightest; woman the most bending.

Man stands steadfast; woman gently retreats.

Man surveys and observes; woman glances and feels.

Man is serious; woman is gay.

Man is the tallest and broadest; woman the smallest and weakest.

Man is rough and hard; woman is smooth and soft.

Man is brown; woman is fair.

The hair of the man is strong and short; the hair of woman is pliant and long.

Man has most straight lines; woman most curved.

The countenance of man, taken in profile, is not so often perpendicular as that of woman.

FAMILY PHYSIOGNOMY. The resemblance between parents and children is very commonly remarkable. Family physiognomical resemblance is as undeniable as national physiognomical resemblance. To doubt this is to doubt what is self-evident.

When children, as they increase in years, visibly increase in their physical resemblance to their parents, we cannot doubt that resemblance in character also increases. Howsoever much the character of children may seem to differ from that of their parents, yet this difference will be found to be due to great difference in external circumstances.

JUSTUS VON LIEBIG

Animal Chemistry

Baron Freiherr Justus von Liebig, one of the most illustrious chemists of his age, was born on May 12, 1803, at Darmstadt, Germany, the son of a drysalter. It was in his father's business that his interest in chemistry first awoke, and at fifteen he became an apothecary's assistant. Subsequently, he went to Erlangen, where he took his doctorate in 1822; and afterwards, in Paris, was admitted to the laboratory of Gay-Lussac as a private pupil. In 1824 he was appointed a teacher of chemistry in the University of Giessen in his native state. Here he lived for twenty-eight years a quiet life of incessant industry, while his fame spread throughout Europe. In 1845 he was raised to the hereditary rank of baron, and seven years later was appointed by the Bavarian government to the professorship of chemistry in the University of Munich. Here he died on April 18, 1873. The treatise on "Animal Chemistry, or Organic Chemistry in its Relations to Physiology and Pathology," published in 1842, sums up the results of Liebig's investigations into the immediate products of animal life. He was the first to demonstrate that the only source of animal heat is that produced by the oxidation of the tissues.

I.--Chemical Needs of Life

Animals, unlike plants, require highly organised atoms for nutriment; they can subsist only upon parts of an organism. All parts of the animal body are produced from the fluid circulating within its organism. A destruction of the animal body is constantly proceeding, every motion is the result of a transformation of its structure; every thought, every sensation is accompanied by a change in the composition of the substance of the brain. Food is applied either in the increase of the mass of a structure (nutrition) or in the replacement of a structure wasted (reproduction).

Equally important is the continual absorption of oxygen from the atmosphere. All vital activity results from the mutual action of the oxygen of the atmosphere and the elements of food. According to Lavoisier, an adult man takes into his system every year 827 lb. of oxygen, and yet he does not increase in weight. What, then, becomes of this oxygen?--for no part of it is again expired as oxygen. The carbon and hydrogen of certain parts of the body have entered into combination with the oxygen introduced through the lungs and through the skin, and have been given out in the form of carbonic acid and the vapour of water.

Now, an adult inspires 32-1/2 oz. of oxygen daily; this will convert the carbon of 24 lb. of blood (80 per cent. water) into carbonic acid. He must, therefore, take as much nutriment as will supply the daily loss. And, in fact, it is found that he does so; for the average amount of carbon in the daily food of an adult man is 14 oz., which requires 37 oz. of oxygen for its conversion into carbonic acid. The amount of food necessary for the support of the animal body must be in direct ratio to the quantity of oxygen taken into the system. A bird deprived of food dies on the third day; while a serpent, which inspires a mere trace of oxygen, can live without food for three months. The number of respirations is less in a state of rest than in exercise, and the amount of food necessary in both conditions must vary also.

The capacity of the chest being a constant quantity, we inspire the same volume of air whether at the pole or at the equator; but the weight of air, and consequently of oxygen, varies with the temperature. Thus, an adult man takes into the system daily 46,000 cubic inches of oxygen, which, if the temperature be 77° F., weighs 32-1/2 oz., but when the temperature sinks to freezing-point will weigh 35 oz. It is obvious, also, that in an equal number of respirations we consume more oxygen at the level of the sea than on a mountain. The quantity of oxygen inspired and carbonic acid expired must, therefore, vary with the height of the barometer. In our climate the difference between summer and winter in the carbon expired, and therefore necessary for food, is as much as one-eighth.