The peripatetic or, Sketches of the heart, of nature and society; In a series of politico-sentimental journals, in verse and prose, of the eccentric excursions of Sylvanus Theophrastus; Supposed to be written by himself [by John Thelwall] |
 | [I]. |
[See where the heart, life's awful reservoir?] |
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| III. |
 | The peripatetic |  |
[See where the heart, life's awful reservoir?]
That pours to every part the vital store,—
Great seat of Passion, at whose proud controul
Or slow, or wild the purple torrents roll—
(Now thrilling quick when, all the soul on fire,
Eyes the bright nymph, and pants with warm desire,
Now creeping slowly thro' the sluggish veins
When chilling Fear, or drooping Sorrow reigns)—
This awful power, on whom high heaven conferr'd
Of life's great charge the first important third!—
Timid, and conscious of her charge, she flies
To pant and flutter far from human eyes;
While the soft lungs, in flexile membrane bound,
Like fond maternal wings embrace her round:
And, while the current thro' each channel swells,
And, ere again the imprison'd gales retire,
Draw from their souls the pure electric fire —
The electric fire the passing streams impart
(Life's first great mover) to the swelling heart.
Should rude disaster these or that confound,
Life and Life's hope fly rapid from the wound:
Here 'scape the currrents whence we life receive,
The zephyrs there by which those currents live.
Spread the strong ribs, their moving coat of mail,
And stretch'd around, with strong, but flexile sweep,
At distance due each casual danger keep.
Whose subtile dictates all the frame command;
Mysterious “Lord of Pleasure and of Pain,”
Of Reason, Knowledge, Sense's varied sway,
And Fancy's train—fantastic, grave, or gay.
Where vibrates sound, where splendid Vision lives,
Where Taste—where Smell her essence all receives,
And Touch, fine-thrilling, each impression gives!
From this, when injur'd, all tumultuous fly
The wond'rous train of sudden Sympathy:
The Lungs, the Heart, their functions each disclaim:
Dies thro' each Nerve the paralytic frame!
Lo! in firm compact, swells the crested pride,
Whose lines prescrib'd the spreading evil bound,
When Force or Chance inflicts the dangerous wound.
Secur'd by cautious Nature's partial grace:
Arm'd at all points, defies Misfortune's ire.
But, ah! in vain: for Art, with cruel zeal,
Delves the rent earth, and whets the vengeful steel:
Or, with invention's magic powers accurst,
Bids from wrought tubes th'ignited malice burst;
Whence, low on Earth the glorious structure lays,
Fall'n in its strength, and ere its hour decays.
The circulation of the blood being essential long before the functions of the lungs or brain are requisite.
In the human subject, and all the most perfect of the quadruped species, the whole mass of blood passes in every circulation through the lungs,
That the air in passing through the lungs, loses some part of its elementary composition is evident, because, after it has been respired a given number of times, it is no longer fit for its purpose of sustaining life; becoming, in fact, less and less fit for that office at every repeated inspiration. It is equally evident from the changes taking place in the colour and properties of the blood, in its passage through the pulmonary arteries, that something is imbibed from the air. Whether this be certain portions of the electric fluid, contained always in large quantities in the atmosphere, may, perhaps, be worth enquiry. The author hazards it only as a conjecture sufficiently probable for the foundation of a poetical allusion.
The sympathy between the Brain, Heart, and Lungs has long engaged the attention of Physiologists, it being evident, that no injury whatever can be done to the one without the others being immediately affected.
The exposed situation of the head, and the importance and sensibility of the organ it contains, necessarily called for every possible precaution; and, accordingly, Nature has not only provided it with bones of such strength as forcibly to resist the violence that may be offered it, but has also made a provision, by the many small portions into which these bones are divided, to prevent such wounds as may be inflicted from easily extending to any considerable length.
| The peripatetic | |