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Title: The human foot and the human hand
Author: George Murray Humphry
Release date: February 13, 2025 [eBook #75360]
Language: English
Original publication: Cambridge: Macmillan and Co, 1861
Credits: Thiers Halliwell, Sonya Schermann and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUMAN FOOT AND THE HUMAN HAND ***
Transcriber’s notes:
The text of this book has been preserved as in the original, apart
from repositioning of some footnotes and illustrations closer to the
relevant text. Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
THE HUMAN FOOT
AND THE
HUMAN HAND.
BY
G. M. HUMPHRY, M.D. F.R.S.
LECTURER ON ANATOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY IN THE
UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE.
MACMILLAN AND CO.
Cambridge:
AND 23, HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN,
London.
1861.
Cambridge:
PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A.
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
The following pages originated in two popular Lectures which were
delivered in Cambridge. In the preparation for publication many
additions have been made; but I have thought it best to retain the
original form.
CONTENTS.
THE HUMAN FOOT.
Why are the generality of persons so ignorant of the structure of their
own bodies? p. 1. The dependence of the hand upon the foot, 3.
Principle of “division of Labour” illustrated in the animal world, 4;
and in the function of locomotion, 6.
Structure of Lower Limb, 8. Length of Leg in GIANTS, 9. Bones of
Foot, _ib._ Peculiarity of GREAT TOE, 10. Uniformity in plan, and
dissimilarity in detail seen throughout nature, 13. Homologous parts in
animals, 14. Comparison of Horse’s Leg with Man’s, 15. The ARCH of the
foot, 18; its elasticity greater in the fore part than in the hinder,
21. The Component bones held together by Ligaments, 24. WEAK ANKLE and
FLAT FOOT, 27, 74; time of life at which they occur, 31. Injurious
effects of “High-lows,” 29.
Movements of the FOOT, 33; compared with those of the HEAD, 35.
Nature’s abhorrence of straight lines illustrated by shape of
leg-bone, 37, and by movements of leg upon thigh, 39. Sitting upon the
heel, _ib._ Grecian and Egyptian statuary compared, 40. Relation of
PERFECTION and BEAUTY, 41.
MUSCLES of Leg and Foot, 42. Purpose served by movements of Infants,
46. CLUB-FOOT, 47. Shape of the ankle, 48. Length and direction of the
heel, 50. The CALF, _ib._; characteristic of man, 53. EUROPEAN Leg
and Foot contrasted with NEGRO’S, 51. CHINESE foot, 54. Tendency of
different races to exaggerate their peculiarities, 56. Provision for
enabling balls of toes to adapt themselves to uneven surfaces, 57.
STANDING, 59. BOWING, STOOPING and SQUATTING, 61. WALKING, 62. RUNNING,
64. TROTTING and GALLOPING, 67. Rolling in walking, 69. Sprained ankle,
70. Mode in which foot revolves on the ground, 73. Character shown in
walking, 76. The IDIOT, 80. The DRUNKARD, 81.
Distinctive features of the Human Foot, 82; most marked in highest
races, 91. The TOES of small size and, comparatively, unimportant, 84.
The foot of the ELEPHANT, 86; of the HIPPOPOTAMUS, RHINOCEROS, OX, and
HORSE, 87; of the GORILLA, 88. Proportions of the limbs, 94. Foot and
hand small in very short and very tall persons, 96. The foot measure,
97.
SKIN of the sole, 98. On SHOES, 102.
THE HUMAN HAND.
HAND how distinguished from FOOT, 109. Construction of Upper limb, 110.
Small bones rarely dislocated, 112.
Movements at SHOULDER very free, 114; conducive to good development
of Chest, 125. Uses of COLLAR-BONE, 116. Injuries to Shoulder why so
frequent, 119. Shape of CHEST, 122; in Rhinoceros, 120; in Monkey, 123.
Movements at the ELBOW, 126. PRONATION and SUPINATION of the forearm
and hand, _ib._ No exactly corresponding movements in lower limb, 129.
MUSCLES by which they are effected, 130. Anatomical reason for the
direction in which we turn a screw or a gimlet, 132.
Structure and movements of the WRIST, 134. Movements of the FINGERS,
136. MUSCLES by which they are effected, 137. MOVEMENTS of the THUMB,
141; of the metacarpal bones upon the wrist, 143. Advantage gained by
the fingers and thumb all differing in length, 145. Middle finger the
centre about which the others move, 147. On holding the PEN, _ib._ The
direction in which the letters are slanted, 148. WRITING from left to
right, 149. Reason for the RING being placed upon the fourth finger,
150. The “funny-bone,” 153.
The MONKEY’S HAND, 154, 187.
The hand the organ of the WILL, 156; its relation to the MIND, 157; an
organ of EXPRESSION, 159. SHAKING HANDS, 162. Why do we shake hands?
162. Why do we KISS? 164.
Structure of the SKIN, 165. The Cuticle, 166; its uses, 167. The Rete
Mucosum, 166. Cause of the colour of the Skin, 167. The Cutis, 168.
Difference between a WART and a CORN, 170. How to cut Corns, 172.
NAILS; their formation and growth, 173. Claws in lower animals, 173,
175. Sensitiveness of the Skin beneath the nails, 177.
HAIRS; their formation, 178; colour, 179; uses, 180.
OIL-GLANDS; their uses, the odour of their secretion, 180.
SWEAT-GLANDS, 183; their structure, _ib._ The “Pores” of the Skin, 183.
The moisture of the palm, 184. Cold Sweat, _ib._
FEELING and TOUCH, 185. Structure of the three parts in which they are
most acute, _ib._ The “Pulps” of the fingers connected with peculiar
shape of the bones, 186; their sensitiveness to cold, 187. Distinction
between Common Feeling and the Sense of Touch, 188. Relation between
the two in the Tongue, the Eye and the Hand, 189. The tentacle of a
Polyp a rudimentary hand, 191. Acuteness of touch in man, 193; in BLIND
persons, _ib._
Relation of the hand to the EYE and the MOUTH, 195. The Elephant’s
Trunk, 197. CHEIROMANCY, 198. The LOCK-JAW fallacy, 200. Cause of the
superiority of the RIGHT HAND, 201. “This unworthy hand!” 205.
Explanation of Wood-cuts, 207.
THE HUMAN FOOT.
The Human Body is one of the most worthy objects of man’s study. It is
the noblest as well as the crowning work of creation. In it material
organization is carried to the greatest perfection. It surpasses,
therefore, all other physical objects in exquisiteness of construction
and in interest. How comes it, then, that most persons are so ignorant
respecting it? Men, well informed in other matters, are usually
altogether uninformed with regard to this. In every other branch of
science we find amateur students pursuing the subject with zeal and
success. Geology, Chemistry, Botany, Zoology, and even Comparative
Anatomy have each their votaries; but Human Anatomy attracts no one.
Why is this? Partly, I think, because opportunities for acquiring such
information as is suitable and interesting are not so many as they
ought to be.
It must be confessed, also, that we teachers of Anatomy are somewhat
to blame. We are too prone, in our Lectures and Examinations, to dwell
upon bare details, without enlivening those details with the many
bright features of interest with which they are naturally invested; and
we fail, therefore, to render it so attractive a science as it might
be. The example of those able and animated teachers, John and Charles
Bell, who laboured with some success to disperse the clouds that have
ever overhung the horizon of anatomy, has been too much forgotten; and
the flame which they kindled has almost died out under the chilling
apathy of their successors. Truly glad should I be to see a change in
this. I cannot but think that if the teachers of Anatomy took higher
and more philosophical views of their science there would be no lack
of interest on the part of the students. The interest so excited would
soon spread beyond the limits of the profession; and there would thus
be opened up to the public some of the products of that rich vein of
knowledge and of that abundant material for thought which lie buried in
the human frame.
I therefore willingly accede to your request for a Lecture upon some
part of the anatomy of the human body, relying upon the intrinsic
interest of the subject to make amends for my own deficiencies in
expounding it; and I select the HUMAN FOOT, because a few of the more
important points of its construction can be explained without much
difficulty, because it affords a good illustration of some of the
principles of animal mechanism, and because its form constitutes one of
the great characteristics whereby man is distinguished from the lower
animals. As an instrument of support and of locomotion it excels the
foot of any other animal. It evinces its excellence by enabling man to
stand upright in a way that no other animal can do; and so efficiently
does the foot accomplish this and perform the task of carrying the
body, that the hand is set at liberty to minister to the will. Thus is
the foot instrumental in giving us an advantage over other animals,
and in enabling us to provide the means of defence; and, thus, it aids
us to carry out those wondrous works which are second only to the
marvellous results of creative power.
We are accustomed to regard the hand as the great agent by which all
this is attained, and we are apt to forget how much it is indebted
to the foot. We do not reflect that, if the foot of man presented no
distinguishing peculiarity, the hand, like the corresponding part in
other animals, would be compelled to share with it the task of carrying
the body, and could, therefore, not be devoted to the various offices
which it is now free to perform. Little right has the hand to say to
the foot, “I have no need of thee.”
_The principle of “division of labour.”_
In this concentration of locomotive power in the foot we have an
illustration of what is called the “principle of division of labour,”
a principle with which all civilized communities are familiar, and
to which we are much indebted for the present advanced state of the
arts and sciences; but which we may be said to have borrowed from
the economy of nature. We find ever-increasing manifestations of it
as we ascend in the animal series, from the lower and more simple to
the higher and more complicated forms. Indeed, just as each step in
civilization is attended with a further development of this principle,
so is each division of the animal kingdom distinguished from those
below it by the more distinct assignation of particular functions to
particular organs, and by the consequent improvement of the mode in
which the functions are performed. While, in proportion as the several
organs acquire more distinct speciality in their work, so do they
become, more and more, dependent upon one another, and, more and more,
subjected to the control of central government, which is represented by
the brain.
For instance, some of the lower animals, as the fresh-water POLYP,
present nearly a uniform structure throughout their whole substance;
and every part of them consequently performs the same function. There
is not one organ for digestion, another for circulation, a third for
respiration, and so on; but all these functions are performed by the
same structure, and are performed, therefore, in a rude and imperfect
manner. Any portion of the creature possesses all the requisites for
its own nutrition, and is, so, independent of the remainder, and can
live alone. Hence, the polyp may be divided into a number of pieces,
each of which goes on living. Gradually, as we ascend from these lowly
beings to the higher classes of animals, we find organs and functions
more and more distinct from another; a Stomach is provided for the
work of digestion, a Heart for circulation, Lungs for respiration.
Each of these organs is essential to the existence of the others and
of every part of the body; and they are all maintained in harmonious
co-operation by the presiding influence of the nervous system.
Or, trace one of the _functions_ in illustration of the same principle.
Take the function of Locomotion, which has an especial relation to our
present subject. In the LEECH and the WORM the whole length of the body
is occupied in the work, one part as much as another; and still, it
is but a crawl. In the FISH the whole body is buoyed up by the water;
it is flattened from side to side, and is all, from the head to the
tail, concerned in the lateral stroke by which the animal is driven
along; the side fins, which are the representatives of limbs, doing
little beyond serving to guide and balance. In the other VERTEBRATES
the work of locomotion is so far concentrated as to be assigned, almost
entirely, to the limbs. All _four_ limbs are in most of them devoted
to it; while the bones and muscles of the trunk are only indirectly
concerned in it. In MAN, however, _two_ limbs only are assigned to this
important office. In him, therefore, the concentration of locomotive
power, in other words the principle of division of labour, is carried
out to the greatest extent--a disposition which affords one of the many
proofs that the construction of his body combines with the faculties of
his mind to place him at the head of the animal kingdom.
In making comparisons of different animals with one another, and in
speaking of the relative perfection of their several organs, we must
not forget that _every_ organ of every animal is perfect as regards the
purpose for which it was made. But some animals are said to occupy a
higher position than others, or to be superior to others, because their
mechanism is more complex, and they are, thereby, enabled to perform a
greater variety of functions. And, in the animal kingdom, in proportion
as each function rises into prominence, and becomes well and distinctly
performed, so is a special organ assigned to it, and that organ becomes
more and more highly elaborated.
You will not misunderstand me, then, when I say that concentration
of function and perfection of structure usually go together. And,
forasmuch as in the lower limbs of man there is a greater concentration
of locomotive function than in any other part of any other animal,
you will expect to find, in them, a greater perfection of locomotive
mechanism--that is to say, a more complete combination of strength with
variety, rapidity, and extent of movement--than is elsewhere to be met
with.
This consideration will ensure attention while I give a brief account
of the anatomy of man’s lower limb, more particularly of the foot.
_Structure of the Lower Limbs._
The weight of the trunk is transmitted to the knee (see fig. 4,
p. 15) by a single bone--the thigh-bone. This is the longest bone
in the body, measuring, on the average, nearly eighteen inches. Above,
it is jointed with the haunch-bone of the pelvis at the hip-joint.
From the knee two bones descend to the ankle. Of these one is much the
larger, and bears the chief of the weight. The other serves to give
attachment to muscles, and to strengthen the ankle-joint. It runs down
on the outer side of the ankle, forming there what is called the “outer
ankle;” and a process of the larger bone runs down, in like manner, on
the inner side, and forms the “inner ankle.” The front and inner side
of the larger bone are close under the skin. This part is called the
“_shin_,” being so named perhaps from the word “chine” or edge, because
the leg presents an edge along the front, to facilitate its cleaving
a way through the air, water, grass, or underwood. The shin itself is
not particularly tender; but the skin is a good deal exposed here,
and, as it lies so near the hard bone, it is easily injured; and, when
“broken,” it is often difficult to heal.
In some very tall persons, and particularly in those who are so tall
as to be called GIANTS, I have found the leg or shank bones, that is,
the bones between the knee and the ankle, very long, disproportionately
long to the rest of the skeleton. They are so in the skeleton of the
Irish Giant, O’Byrne, which is preserved in the Museum of the College
of Surgeons, in another Irish Giant in the Museum of Trinity College,
Dublin, and in some other specimens which I have had an opportunity
of measuring. In the name “Long Shanks” given to Edward I., the word
“shanks” probably included the thigh as well as the leg, just as we are
in the habit of applying the word “leg” to the whole of the lower limb.
_Bones of the Foot._
[Illustration: Fig. 1.]
There are 26 bones in the Foot. The hinder 7--called _tarsal_
bones--are short and thick; they form the hinder part of the instep. In
front of them lie 5 _metatarsal_ bones, one passing, forwards, from the
fore part of the tarsus to each toe. Behind, these are close together,
and are connected with the tarsus. As they run forwards they diverge a
little from one another; and their anterior ends rest upon the ground,
and form the “balls” of the toes. They constitute the fore part of
the instep. The remaining 14 bones are the toes. They are arranged in
rows, like soldiers in a phalanx, three deep, and are hence called
_phalanges_.
You observe that, although each of the other toes has 3 bones, the
great toe has only 2. In this respect, therefore, it is an imperfect,
or, rather, an incomplete member. The deficiency does not depend upon
a want of length in the great toe; for this is usually as long as the
second toe; in some persons it is a good deal longer; and it is always
distinctly longer than the outer two toes. The reason for there being
only two phalanges instead of three probably is because the great toe
is required to be stronger than any of the others; and an additional
bone would have tended to weaken it. I have, elsewhere[1], given
reasons for thinking that it is the middle phalanx which is absent in
the great toe.
[1] _Treatise on the Human Skeleton_, p. 395.
[Illustration: Fig. 2.
Seal’s Foot.]
[Illustration: Fig. 3.
Lizard’s Foot.]
It is a curious and interesting fact, affording a remarkable
illustration of the close adherence to a uniform plan which has been
observed in the construction of the various animals, that, in no
instance, does this toe contain more than two bones. Even in those
creatures, as the SEAL (fig. 2), in which it attains to greater
length than any of the other sprawling digits, it contains the same
number of bones as in man, its extraordinary length being attained by
an elongation of the two bones, not by the addition of a third. And in
those animals, as certain Lizards (fig. 3), where the number of
bones in the other toes is increased to 4 or even 5, the number in the
first, or inner, toe is still no more than two. The same rule applies
to the fore limb; the number of bones in the inner digit, which, in
man and monkeys, is called the “thumb,” is in no case more than two.
In some animals, as will be mentioned again, there is only one bone in
this digit, and in some the digit is wanting altogether; but in none
does it contain _more_ than _two_ bones.
This reminds me of a still more remarkable instance of adherence to
a particular number of bones. In the mammalian group of animals the
_neck_, with only one or two exceptions, contains _seven_ bones,
neither more nor less. Whether it be the long neck of the GIRAFFE, or
the short neck of the MOUSE, the BAT, or the PORPOISE, each consists,
like the neck in MAN, of seven bones. For what reason a particular
number should be thus rigidly observed, it is not easy to say.
Of the seven tarsal bones the uppermost (fig. 1) is called the
_astragalus_, from a supposed resemblance to a die. It is the middle
bone of the instep. Above, it is jointed with the leg-bones; behind,
it is connected with, and rests upon, the _heel-bone_, which is the
largest bone in the foot. The bone which lies immediately in front
of the astragalus, and supports it in this direction, is called the
_scaphoid_, or boat-like, bone. In front of it are three _wedge-bones_,
each of which is connected with one of the metatarsal bones of the
inner three toes. On the outer side of the wedge-bones, connected with
the metatarsals of the two small toes, and locked in between them and
the heel-bone, is the _cuboid_ bone.
I must confine my remarks chiefly to the _human_ foot. Still the
anatomy of man derives so much interest from being studied in connexion
with that of the lower animals, and is so much more instructive when
this is done, that I cannot forbear diverging, here and there, to
make a few comparisons. Let me, for a moment, draw your attention to
a similarity, in general construction, which exists between the lower
limbs of man, and the hinder limbs of other animals. And the comparison
may be extended to the fore limbs; for however diverse may be the
appearance and the mode of action of the limbs in different animals,
whether they be terminated by hands or by feet, whether they move upon
the ground or ply in air or water, whether they be attached to the
head, as are the front fins in many fishes, or, as is more common, be
situated at the fore and hinder parts of the trunk, the same plan is
traceable in all.
Great, indeed, is the variety of detail in nature. It is everywhere
observable. No two things, however near their resemblance, are
precisely alike. Yet, as I have before said, there is a remarkable
adherence to unity of plan. One star differs from another star in
glory, yet all appear fashioned in the same manner, and subject to
the same laws. There are almost infinite varieties in the vertebrate
kingdom. Each animal exhibits its own peculiarities; yet they are all
formed in the same manner, and are developed upon one fundamental
pattern, diverging from it in different ways according to the
requirements of each. Again, though the several parts of the same
animal differ from one another; yet in the skeleton the same bones
which exist in one part may, as a general rule, be traced in other
parts and in other animals. The bones which make up the pelvis in man
are repeated in his shoulder, and, even, in his skull; and they may be
recognised in the pelvis, in the shoulder, and in the skull, of all
other vertebrate animals, with few exceptions. They undergo, it is
true, great varieties in shape and size; but they can be shown to be
the same, or, in the language of anatomists, to be “homologous.” It is
highly interesting to the anatomist to trace the same bone through the
different parts of the same animal, and through the various animals
of the vertebrate series, and to observe the modifications which it
undergoes in order to adapt it to the multiform mechanism of the
several classes, to observe it sometimes dwindling, or even vanishing,
and then, it may be, reappearing under some new conditions.
[Illustration: Fig. 4.
Human Leg.]
[Illustration: Fig. 5.
Horse’s Leg.]
I must, however, resist the temptation to wander into this attractive
field. It will suffice to take an illustration by a comparison of the
bones of the human lower limb with those of the hind limb of the Horse.
This may be easily done by the aid of these drawings (figs. 4
and 5) in which the two limbs are placed side by side, and the
corresponding bones are marked with the same letters. Notwithstanding
the many points of difference the same plan will be recognised in each.
There is in each the thigh(C), the leg(E), and the foot, with the
tarsal and metatarsal(G) bones, and the phalanges(H, I, K). But in the
HORSE two of the digits (the marginal ones, that is, the great toe and
the little toe) are wanting, two are rudimentary, and the remaining
one, which corresponds with the middle toe of man, in length, size,
and strength, more than makes amends for the deficiency of the others.
The lowermost bone, or terminal phalanx, of this huge toe, called the
_coffin-bone_(K), is encased in the hoof, which corresponds with the
human nail, and is the only part of the foot that rests upon the ground.
In MAN the whole weight of the body has to be borne upon _two_ feet;
often it is balanced upon _one_. The foot is, consequently, spread out;
and all the bones, from the heel to the tips of the toes, are made to
form the basis of support upon the ground. The HORSE, on the contrary,
having no hands, but _four_ feet, does not require so great breadth
in each foot; and the opportunity is taken to narrow the foot, and to
lengthen it so as to give fleetness. The end is attained by suppressing
some of the toes, by elongating one far beyond the others, and enduing
it with such strength as to enable it to carry the requisite weight
upon the tip of the last phalanx. The heel(F) is raised high above the
ground and becomes the “hock.” To speak of a horse _kicking with his
heels_ is, therefore, about as correct as to say, that he _breaks his
knees_. His knee, as you perceive by the position of the “knee-cap”(D),
is high up in the hind limb, near his body, quite out of harm’s way in
a fall. The fact is, that he kicks with his _toes_; and, when he falls,
he cuts the skin over the part in his _fore_ limbs, which corresponds
with the back of our _wrists_.
In the upper segment, or thigh, the difference between the two limbs
is seen to be, to a certain extent, the reverse of what it is below.
That is to say, whereas, in the HORSE, the _toe_ is elongated and
thickened, so as greatly to exceed the corresponding part of the human
limb; in MAN the _thigh-bone_ is elongated, so as to be double the
length of that of the horse; the thigh-bone in man is also placed more
vertically, nearly in the plane of gravity of the trunk. The horse’s
thigh-bone slants forwards and outwards, which gives the muscles great
power by causing them to run more at right angles between their points
of attachment; and this arrangement increases the strength of the
animal in drawing weights, and facilitates springing. A man cannot
spring without first bending the limbs a little; whereas a horse, or a
goat, can spring, at once, from the position in which it is standing.
To revert to the anatomy of the Human Foot.
_The Arch of the Foot._
The seven tarsal and the five metatarsal bones--that is, the twelve
bones of the instep--are arranged and jointed together so as to form
an arch from the point of the heel to the balls of the toes. This is
called the “plantar arch,” from the Latin word _planta_, the sole of
the foot. The _astragalus_ forms the summit, or key-bone, of the arch.
It receives the weight from the leg, and transmits it, through the
hinder pillar of the arch, to the heel, and, through the front pillar
of the arch, to the balls of the toes.
[Illustration: Fig. 6.]
The drawing represents a section, from behind forwards, of the lower
end of the leg-bone, and of the bones lying along the inner side of the
plantar arch. Behind it extends through the heel-bone, and in front
through the great toe. It exhibits the arrangement of the fibres and
plates in the interior of the bones, and shows that the greater number
of them, in each bone, follow the direction of the two pillars of the
arch; that is to say, they descend from the summit of the arch where
it supports the leg-bone, backwards and downwards, to the heel, and,
forwards and downwards, to the balls of the toes. Their arrangement
is, therefore, such as to give resisting strength to the bones in the
directions in which it is most required.
You may think that the arch of the foot would have been a much simpler
structure, as well as stronger, if it had been composed of one bone
instead of several. But it must be remembered that it would, then, have
been liable to be cracked and broken by the sudden and violent manner
in which, during running and jumping, the weight of the body is thrown
upon it. Moreover, the several bones, where they touch one another,
are covered with a tolerably thick layer of highly elastic gristle or
cartilage (represented by the clear line left in the drawing along
the contiguous edges of the bones); and this provision, together with
the slight movements which take place between these bones, gives an
elasticity to the foot and to the step, and serves to break the jars
and shocks which are caused by the sudden contact of the foot with the
ground.
This last is a very important point; and we find numerous contrivances
in different parts of the body to protect the brain and other
delicate organs from jars. So efficient are these contrivances, and
so exact is the adaptation of the mechanism of the limbs and the
trunk to the texture of the internal organs, that, while these are
in a healthy state, we are able to run, to jump, and to leap from a
considerable height, without inconvenience. But, if the organs be
inflamed, or if the nervous system be over sensitive, as in common
headache, the provisions, which are calculated for the normal state,
are insufficient; ordinary movements are then painful, and to jump is
intolerable.
The muscles play a very essential part in this work. _First_, they
place the limbs in the most favourable position. Thus, when we alight
upon the ground, from a height, we always contrive to do so with the
knees and hips a little bent, so that the limbs readily yield at the
joints, and act as springs to break the jar. Elderly persons commonly
keep the limbs bent, even when walking quietly along. They do this
because they need all the benefit which position will afford to make
amends for the loss of elasticity consequent on the thinning and drying
of the cartilages, and other changes that take place in the body with
advancing years. _Secondly_, the muscles brace the limbs and joints in
the position in which they have placed them. We experience the effect
of the want of this salutary influence when we kick against an unseen
object, or fall suddenly, or receive any blow or shock for which we are
unprepared. How disagreeable, to say the least, it is to make the step
for an additional stair when we have arrived at the top of a staircase,
or, still worse, to meet with an unseen stair when we think that we
have got to the bottom.
You perceive from the drawing (fig. 6) that there is a great
difference between the two pillars of the plantar arch. The hinder
pillar is comparatively short, and narrow, and descends suddenly,
almost in a vertical direction, from the ankle, to the ground; and it
is composed of only one bone--the heel-bone--which is jointed directly
with the astragalus: whereas the fore pillar is longer and broader,
is composed of several bones jointed together, and slopes much more
gradually to the ground. There is, therefore, far less elasticity in
the hinder part of the foot than in the fore part. Hence, when we
descend from a height upon the ground, we always alight upon the balls
of the toes, and thus gain the advantage which the several bones and
joints afford in breaking the shock. If, after going up stairs this
evening, you take the trouble to come down again, you will find that
you alight upon each stair on the balls of the toes and experience no
inconvenience, however quickly the descent is made. But, if you change
the mode of proceeding, and descend upon the heels, the feeling will
be by no means agreeable; and the various organs of the body, being
disturbed from their accustomed repose, will raise such remonstrances
against your infringement upon nature’s ways, that you will scarcely
be able to continue the experiment. Proportionately more distressing
is the sensation caused by jumping from a chair upon the heels.
Indeed, this is not done altogether without risk; and the trial of it
is scarcely to be recommended to persons who have attained to that
sober period of life at which we are willing to concede that, in some
things, nature is wiser than ourselves. Only a short time since I
saw a gentleman, who, in jumping down some steps into a back yard,
accidentally came upon his heels, and jarred one hip so severely that
he was confined to his sofa for several days in consequence.
But, you may say, “in walking we do place the heel upon the ground
first and experience no inconvenience.” True, because the force with
which the foot descends in walking is very slight; and the weight is
directed upon the heel, obliquely, in such a manner as to bring the
toes very quickly to the ground, and really to throw nearly the whole
force in that direction. Moreover, you may observe that when we walk,
the weight of the body is partly sustained by the fore part of the
one foot till the whole of the other foot is on the ground. I will,
however, revert to the disposition of the feet in walking and running
presently.
The arch of the foot has to bear great weight and at great
disadvantage; and there is very little in the _shape_ of the bones to
maintain its integrity. Indeed, they all fall asunder when the other
structures are removed, the key-bone dropping through of its own
weight. And the same thing may be remarked throughout the skeleton.
Wherever two or more bones move upon one another, their surfaces are
so constructed that they do not hold together without some assistance
from the soft parts. There are joints in the body which we call
“hinge-joints,” and others which we call “ball-and-socket joints;” but
in none of them is there such a holding and locking of one part in the
other as you have in the hinge and the ball-and-socket of the mechanic.
In every case the bones are held together, not by their own shape, but
by ligaments and muscles. Consequently, any one of the bones may be
dislocated from those next it without breakage; and when the muscles
and ligaments are cut through, or have been destroyed by maceration,
all the bones, between which any movement was possible during life,
separate from one another.
Not only is this so, but in no instance are the movements of joints
_limited_ simply by the shape of the bones--that is to say, they are
never brought to a stop by a part of one bone coming into contact
with the edge of another. Such a contact would have caused a _sudden_
check; and this would have been attended with more or less jar and with
some danger of chipping and breaking the articular edges. The range
of movement of a joint is always regulated by the ligaments or the
muscles, not, directly, by the bones; and the restraint thus imposed
upon the movements is brought to bear, not suddenly, but _gradually_;
somewhat like the effect of the “break” upon a railway-train; while the
cartilages between the bones may be compared with the “buffers” between
the carriages.
It is chiefly by means of strong LIGAMENTS, or sinewy bands, passing
from bone to bone, that the shape of the plantar arch is maintained and
the movements of the bones upon one another are regulated and limited.
These ligaments are numerous; but I will mention only two.
[Illustration: Fig. 7.]
One, the _Plantar Ligament_ (A, fig. 7), of great strength,
passes from the under surface of the heel-bone, near its extremity,
forwards, to the ends of the metatarsal bones; in other words, it
extends between the lowest points of the two pillars of the arch,
girding, or holding, them in their places, and preventing their being
thrust asunder when pressure is made upon the key-bone (D); just as
the “tie-beam” of a roof resists the tendency to outward yielding of
the sides when weight is laid upon the summit. The ligament, however,
has an advantage which no tie-beam can ever possess; inasmuch as a
quantity of muscular fibres are attached along the hinder part of its
upper surface. These instantly respond to any demand that is made
upon them, being thrown into contraction directly the foot touches
the ground; and the force of their contraction is proportionate to
the degree of pressure which is made upon the foot. Thus they add a
living, self-acting, self-regulating power to the passive resistance
of the ligament. In addition to its office of binding the bones in
their places, the ligament serves the further purpose of protecting
from pressure the tender structures--the blood-vessels, nerves and
muscles--that lie above it, in the hollow of the foot, under the
shelter of the plantar arch.
Another very strong ligament (B in the wood-cut) passes from the under
and fore part of the heel-bone (F) to the under part of the scaphoid
bone (E). It underlies and supports the round head of the astragalus,
and has to bear a great deal of the weight which is transmitted to that
bone from the leg. It does not derive the same assistance from a close
connexion with muscular fibres as the ligament just described; but it
possesses a quality, which that and most other ligaments do not have,
viz. elasticity. This is very important, for it allows the head of the
key-bone (D) to descend a little, when pressure is made upon it, and
forces it up again when the pressure is removed, and so gives very
material assistance to the other provisions for preventing jars and for
giving ease and elasticity to the step.
A glance at the drawing will show you that here is a weak point in the
foot. The head of the key-bone receives great weight from the leg,
but is comparatively unsupported; and there is a considerable strain
upon this part when the heel is being raised in walking. Moreover,
a good deal of movement takes place between the key-bone (D) and
the scaphoid bone (E), more than between any other two bones of the
instep; and freedom in the range of movement is generally attended
with some sacrifice of strength. The strong elastic ligament comes in
therefore with peculiar advantage at this point; and it is underlaid,
and additional support is afforded exactly when it is most required, by
the tendon (b in fig. 12) of a strong muscle, the especial office
of which is to assist in raising the heel and bending the instep, and
which runs, from the back of the leg, behind the inner ankle, to the
scaphoid bone.
_Weak Ankle and Flat-foot._
In spite, however, of the thick elastic ligament and the strong
tendon just mentioned, the joint between the astragalus or key-bone and
the scaphoid bone still remains a weak point. The head of the key-bone,
from being insufficiently supported or from being overweighted, is very
apt to descend a little below its proper level; the consequence of
which is that the plantar arch is lowered and the foot is flattened;
and the more the foot is flattened the weaker it necessarily is,
because the position of the bones then becomes less and less favourable
for bearing weight, and an increasing strain is thus incurred by the
ligaments and muscles. Hence the foot and ankle feel weak; and the
weakness is especially felt when the person endeavours to raise the
heel, so as to mount upon the balls of the toes, in walking. For the
performance of that movement with ease and steadiness a well-formed
plantar arch is essential; and the person, whose feet are defective
in the manner we are considering, can never walk with a bold, firm
step. The movement in him may be better described as a shuffling from
one foot on to the other, than as a walk. To this I will recur again
when I come to speak more of walking. The defect, when slight in
degree, is commonly called “weak-ankle;” when more decided it is called
“flat-foot,” because the sole is then nearly, or quite, flat. The head
of the key-bone, under such circumstances, may even bulge downwards and
inwards, and form a prominence on the inner side of the sole, so as
to give more or less _convexity_ to the line on the inner side of the
foot, which should be _concave_.
[Illustration: Fig. 8. Flat-foot.]
The representation of “flat-foot” here shown was drawn from the foot of
a labouring man in this county. He said he believed the deformity was
due to his having worn thick tight shoes when he was a growing boy. He
is most likely right in his opinion; for tight or ill-fitting shoes,
cramping the feet and preventing the proper growth of the bones and the
free play of the muscles, are a common cause of this evil. This is so
especially among the agricultural class, whose feet are, from an early
period, enclosed in stiff unyielding leather cases that are enough to
mar nature’s best efforts to construct a plantar arch.
The same drawing shows that flat-foot is not the only deformity
for which “high-lows” are answerable. Besides the almost total want
of calf, which is due to the wearer being obliged to hobble along,
whole-footed, with short feeble steps, it will be seen that the great
toe has not been allowed to assume its natural straight line, but has
been squeezed athwart the other toes, so as to be almost at a right
angle with the foot. No room at all is thus given for the second toe;
it has been driven quite out of the field, and has been obliged to hide
itself by bending down under the other toes. This is no uncommon state
of things. Frequently it is attended with the formation of a painful
bunion upon the prominent inner side of the ball of the great toe;
and, in addition, there is sometimes a corn upon the first joint of
the second toe, which is a source of so much inconvenience that I have
known many sufferers glad to get relief by parting with the toe.
I wish I could hope that the days of high-lows are numbered, and could
believe that in the next generation they will be ranged with the things
of the past, and that our children may know these enemies to the form
of the rustic foot, only as objects to be gazed upon with feelings of
astonishment and pity, just as we regard the perukes and the stays of
our ancestors. There are, however, some practical difficulties in the
way of the fulfilment of this charitable wish.
There are two periods of life at which FLAT-FOOT is most likely to be
engendered. _First_, in infancy, if the child be put upon its feet too
early, before the bones and ligaments are strong enough to bear the
weight of the body. Therefore mothers should not indulge their anxiety
to see their infants walk very early; the pride attendant on premature
success is liable to be followed by regret at finding that the children
never walk well. Parents and nurses should be content to let the
children crawl and roll about upon the floor, and should not encourage
them to stand upright, especially if they be rather heavy or weak
children. Children are quite sure to acquire the faculty of walking as
soon as they are well fit to exercise it.
The _second_ period is at about fourteen. The body attains a
considerable increase of weight at this time, in consequence of the
quick growth that takes place. We often remark that lads and girls
of this age shoot up apace; and their greater weight is not always
attended with a proportionate acquisition of strength. They are apt to
be rather weak and ungainly in their movements; and the weakness often
shows itself in the foot, by a yielding of the plantar arch. Moreover,
many boys and girls are, at this age, turned out into the world to
earn a livelihood, and are obliged to be a good deal upon their feet,
and perhaps, in addition, have to carry weights. Thus errand-boys,
butchers’ and bakers’ boys, and young nursery-maids, are frequent
sufferers in this way. The constrained positions in dancing, also,
if enforced too much, or continued too long, so as to tire the feet,
sometimes lead to the same result. On the other hand, moderate exercise
of this kind is calculated to strengthen the foot and also the whole
frame, and contributes much to improve the carriage.
This is not the place to enter into particulars of _treatment_. I
will, therefore, merely remark that the common notion of supporting
and strengthening the ankles by tight-laced boots is altogether a
mistake, and must be ranked among the most influential of the causes
which combine to spoil so many feet. It has its parallel in the idea
of strengthening the waist by stays. The notion is, in both instances,
fortified by the fact that those persons who have been accustomed to
the pressure, either upon the ankle or the waist, feel a want of it
when it is removed, and are uncomfortable without it. They forget, or
are unconscious, that the feeling of the want has been engendered by
the appliance, and that had they never resorted to the latter they
would never have experienced the former; just as dram-drinking induces
a recurrence to the stimulus by causing a sense of sinking when it is
discontinued; and, for the same reason, the opium-eater can hardly
exist without his drug.
_The Movements of the Foot._
We come now to the MOVEMENTS of the foot upon the leg; and rarely do we
contemplate anything more calculated to excite our admiration. Consider
their variety, the rapidity with which they take place, in order to
effect the requisite succession of positions in walking and running,
and to adapt the sole to the inequalities of the surface on which we
tread; and remember the great weight which has to be sustained while
these movements are going on: yet, how seldom is there a failure.
This combination of variety of movement with security is effected by
the employment of _three_ joints, each of which plays in a direction
different from the others, while all act harmoniously together.
_One_ of the three joints--strictly called the “ankle-joint”--is
between the leg-bones and the foot-bones, that is, between the tibia
and fibula, above, and the astragalus beneath. By means of it the foot
may be bent or straightened upon the leg; in other words, the toes may
be raised or depressed. In this movement the heel participates, being
depressed when the toes are raised, and _vice versâ_. A _second_ joint
is between the astragalus and the heel-bone. It permits the foot to
be rolled inwards or outwards upon an antero-posterior axis; so that
the sole may be turned inwards, with its inner edge upwards, or may be
turned down so as to be placed flat upon the ground. A _third_ joint is
between the first and second row of tarsal bones--that is, between the
astragalus and the heel bone, behind, and the scaphoid and cuboid bones
in front. It permits the degree of flexure of the tarsal or plantar
arch to be increased or diminished.
Had the several movements which are requisite for easy walking all
taken place in one joint, that joint must necessarily have been very
insecure; indeed, it must have been a “ball-and-socket” joint, and we
should have been poised upon our feet in the state of what is called
“unstable equilibrium”--a state quite incompatible with security or
strength, and which would have rendered the assistance of the upper
limbs essential to either standing or walking.
An instance of a similar kind of mechanism to this of the joints
between the foot and the leg is presented by the mode in which the
head is secured upon the back-bone. We can nod the head upwards and
downwards; we can turn it to either side in so free a manner that we
are able to command with our eyes the whole circle in which we sit
simply by the movements of the head; and we can incline the head to the
right or to the left. Any of these movements may be made very quickly;
and there is a separate joint or joints for each of them. Thus, the
_nodding_ movement takes place between the head and the first vertebra
or uppermost bone of the spine; the _turning_ of the head from side
to side takes place between the first and second vertebræ, the head
with the first vertebra rotating upon a pivot projected upwards from
the second vertebra; and the _inclination_ of the head from side to
side takes place by movements of the second vertebra upon the third,
of the third upon the fourth, and so on. The result is that, although
the movements are thus varied, they are free as well as rapid. Yet the
head is so well poised and so strongly fixed that the neck is able to
bear it all day long without fatigue; and, as though the weight of the
head, which is by no means inconsiderable, were not enough for the
neck, we are in the habit of selecting this as the part upon which to
carry burdens. One never feels so strongly impressed with the carrying
capabilities of the neck and the ankle, as when following men and women
in mountain districts toiling up and down the hills under great bundles
of hay, baskets full of bitter beer, and various things intended to
minister to the comfort and luxury of travellers and the inhabitants at
the top. So effectual, indeed, are the provisions for security that,
notwithstanding the freedom and variety of their movements, the joints
of the foot with the leg, and of the head with the spine, are, in
proportion to their size, the strongest in the body.
I have stated the movements that take place in the three joints of
the foot with the leg in a simple manner, for the sake of avoiding
confusion. In reality, however, they are not so simple, but very
difficult to analyse and make out correctly. The difficulty is due,
partly, to the close proximity of the joints to one another, which
renders it no easy matter to distinguish the movements of one from
those of the others, and, partly, to the fact that the movements in
each joint are a little oblique.
In the latter respect the foot-joints resemble most of the others in
the body; and it is this _obliquity_ in the movements of the joints,
added to the _curves_ and _twists_ in the shape of the bones, that
constitutes one of the chief difficulties in investigating and clearly
understanding the mechanism of the human frame. It has been said
that “Nature abhors a vacuum:” it may with equal truth be said that
she abhors a straight line. In the Human Skeleton, at any rate, all
the bones are bent and twisted, some in two or three directions; and
the surfaces by which any bone is jointed to the adjacent bones, are
invariably oblique with regard to each other.
[Illustration: Fig. 9.]
Take, for instance, the _tibia_, or large bone of the leg, of which
a front view and an inner side view are given in the drawings. The
tibia is a column transmitting weight from the thigh to the foot;
and in any machine of man’s construction a column fulfilling similar
purposes would be made straight and of uniform diameter throughout.
The bone, on the contrary, does not present the same thickness at any
two parts of its length. It has a distinct bend, forwards, in nearly
its whole length (fig. 10): there are lateral curves, alternating
like those in the letter S, seen along its front (fig. 9): and
the articular surface at the lower end is placed obliquely with regard
to that at its upper end, in consequence of a twist in the shaft, in
such a manner that when the hinder surface of the upper end of the bone
rests upon a board, the lower end touches the board only by its outer
corner (fig. 10). This disposition of the lower end, I may remark,
assists to give the foot a slant outwards from the heel to the toe, so
that when we stand, with the heels together, the great toes of the two
feet diverge a little from one another.
[Illustration: Fig. 10.]
Moreover, the surfaces by which the tibia is jointed with the
thigh-bone at the knee are arranged with a varying degree of obliquity,
so that the relation of the leg to the thigh varies somewhat in
different positions of the limb. For instance, when we stand upright,
the _thigh_ slants _in_wards from the pelvis, and the _leg_ descends
in a _vertical_ direction to the ground. While, however, the knee is
being bent the leg is carried, not in a vertical plane, but a little
obliquely, so that the lower part soon begins to slant _out_wards; and
when the knee is fully bent the obliquity of the leg and that of the
thigh correspond, and the leg is, as it were, folded up against the
thigh. The heel is thus brought up, not to the middle line of the body,
but to the hip, and we are enabled to sit with the hips upon the heels,
as the Japanese are represented doing, or with one hip upon one heel--a
position in which our riflemen are trained to take aim, and in which
their predecessors with the arrow were wont to shoot, as is shown by
the accompanying sketch of a bowman (fig. 11), taken from one of
the Æginetan marbles in the Glyptothek at Munich.
[Illustration: Fig. 11.]
A variety of purposes is attained by the curvilinear shape of the
bones and the obliquity in the movements of the joints. Not the least
of these is the appearance of elegance and ease which is given to the
whole frame, both when it is at rest and when it is in motion. In
order that you may fully appreciate this result, I would ask you, the
next time you are in a gallery of antique statuary, to contrast the
figures which the Egyptians have left us with those by the Greeks. In
the former you will find that straight lines and right angles prevail:
the figure sits, probably, bolt upright, with the elbows, hips, knees,
and ankles bent at right angles: the fingers commonly run straight
forwards; and a hand is often laid upon each knee, the limbs of the two
sides being quite symmetrically placed. Such statues may be imposing;
but they are stiff and unnatural. They represent positions which the
body rarely assumes; and they, certainly, are far from pleasing. Very
different is the Greek statuary. A correct representation of nature
is the great difficulty and the highest consummation of art; and the
Greeks evinced their greatness in art by a true appreciation and
close imitation of natural form. The position of their figures is
life-like; and, therefore, we love to contemplate them. The outline
in them exhibits a graceful disposition of curves and obliques; and
it is because the great sculptors of Greece were, in this and in
other respects, so true to nature that their works have commanded the
admiration, and served as models for the imitation, of all succeeding
ages.
It is one of the master results of creation, and one of the peculiar
marks of creative genius, that _perfection_ and _beauty_ are usually
presented together. As truth is the soul of eloquence, so is perfection
the soul of beauty. The works of nature are beautiful because there is
so much excellence in them, such admirable adaptation to their purpose;
and we find the works of man beautiful only so far as they are correct
imitations of their great originals in nature, or show some approach
to nature’s excellence. And man is the most beautiful object in nature
because he is the most perfect, that is, because the purpose of his
existence is the highest, and because his physique exhibits the most
marvellous moulding to adapt it to its high purpose; because, in short,
in him the material is wrought to such a point of refinement as to be
the receptacle and minister of the immaterial.
The movements of the three joints between the foot and the leg take
place in harmony. The following is the order observed. The raising
of the _heel_ is accompanied by a rolling of the foot _in_wards, and
by an increased _flexure_ of the plantar arch; and the raising of
the _toes_ is accompanied by a rolling of the foot _out_wards and a
_straightening_ of the sole.
_The Muscles of the Leg and Foot._
[Illustration: Fig. 12.]
The _first_ series of the movements just described is effected,
mainly, by three muscles. Of these one (A, fig. 12) raises the
heel while the other two (B, fig. 12, and C, fig. 13) raise
and support the ankle. The muscle which acts upon the heel is one of
the largest and most powerful in the body; and well it may be, for in
raising the heel it has to raise the whole weight of the body. Its
fibres, accumulated at the middle and upper part of the leg, form the
“calf;” below they taper into a thick tendon (a) connected with the
hinder extremity of the heel-bone, and called the _Tendo Achillis_. The
name, it need scarcely be said, refers to the tale of Thetis holding
her son Achilles by this part when she dipped him in the river Styx.
Her hand prevented the part from coming in contact with the water; and
so it did not partake of the invulnerability which was conferred upon
the rest of his body by the immersion. We read, accordingly, he was
finally killed by a wound in the heel[2].
[2] It does not appear that the legend is based upon any peculiar
ideas of susceptibility attached to the heel among Eastern nations;
nor can the passages in Scripture, that the Serpent shall bruise
man’s heel (Genesis iii. 15); “For the greatness of thine iniquity
are thy heels made bare” (Jeremiah xiii. 22), be adduced as
indicating the existence of such an idea. There are some other myths
resembling this one of Achilles; but in them a different part of
the body missed the protecting influence. Thus, Ajax was wrapped by
Hercules in the skin of the Nemæan lion, and was, thereby, rendered
invulnerable, except at the pit of the stomach where the edges of
the skin did not quite meet; and he killed himself by running his
sword in there. In the _Niebelungenlied_, the hero, Siegfried, is
represented to have rendered himself invulnerable by smearing himself
with the blood of a dragon which he had killed. A leaf, however,
adhering to his back, prevented the contact of the fluid with one
spot. The secret was unwarily communicated by his wife Krimhild to
his enemy Hagan, who took advantage of the information to plunge his
sword into the fatal spot while Siegfried was stooping down to drink
at a rivulet.
The lesson inculcated by these myths seems to be that all men, even
heroes, have their weak points.
The other two muscles (B and C) also descend from the leg and terminate
in tendons (b and c) which pass, one on either side, behind the
projections (D and E) which we call respectively the inner and outer
ankle, to the inner and outer edges of the instep. They assist to raise
the ankle, and support it so as to prevent its swerving from side to
side; and they permit it to play to and fro upon them, like a pulley
upon ropes running under it, in a safe and easy manner. The inner (b,
fig. 12) of the two tendons passes, as before mentioned, beneath
the head of the key-bone, and adds greatly to the strength of the arch.
It is, moreover, the chief agent in effecting the two movements which
are associated with the elevation of the heel, viz. the turning of the
sole inward and the flexion of the foot.
[Illustration: Fig. 13.]
The _second_ series of movements--the raising the toes, the turning
the sole downwards, and the straightening the foot--are effected by
two muscles (F, fig. 12, and G, fig. 13), the tendons (f and
g) of which pass, one in front of the inner ankle, and the other in
front of the outer ankle, to the respective edges of the instep. These
require much less power than their opponents; and the muscles on the
front of the leg are, therefore, smaller and weaker than those behind.
A question of practical interest here suggests itself. How is the
balance between these antagonistic muscles maintained, and the
proper position of the foot preserved? If the muscles which cause
the elevation of the heel and the other movements associated with it
are so much stronger than those which produce the opposite series of
movements, and if, as we know to be the case, muscles are always, even
when a limb is at rest, contracting with a certain amount of force, why
do not those of superior power gain and maintain the ascendancy, and
hold the limb in the position to which they have a tendency to draw it?
And why, in this instance, are not the feet kept with the heels raised
and the soles inturned and bent? The reply is, that the ill consequence
suggested is prevented, and a proper adjustment between the opponent
sets of muscles, in this and other parts of the body, is effected
through the medium of the nervous system. That system institutes
friendly relations, and compels an orderly and harmonious action of the
several muscles; and it does so by frequently exerting its influence
upon them, keeping them in drill, as it were, and enforcing the habit
of yielding in a kindly manner to one another.
[Illustration: Fig. 14. Club-foot.]
You have often observed, and perhaps wondered at, the almost
incessant, semi-involuntary and, seemingly, meaningless movements of
infants, especially the peculiar sprawlings out of their fingers and
toes. Now these are for the purpose of keeping the different sets
of muscles in practice and in order, till the will acquires a due
control, when they gradually cease. They are going on before birth as
well as afterwards; and when they are deficient, or when they take
place irregularly, in consequence of an imperfection in the nervous
system, the limbs are liable to become deformed. The feet, under these
circumstances, are often drawn into the very position I have just
mentioned; the sole is turned inwards and upwards, so as never to touch
the ground; the heel and the toes are approximated; and the foot rests
upon the ground on the outer side, or quite on the fore part, of the
instep. Such a condition constitutes one of the most common forms of
what is called “club foot.” Children are often born with one or both of
their feet thus distorted. Happily, however, if they be submitted in
time to the modern improved modes of treatment they may usually be set
right. The accompanying woodcut gives a sketch of the foot of a young
woman who had not the good fortune to be thus attended to.
The muscles compose the flesh or chief part of the bulk of a limb. The
“calf” is almost entirely made up of the fibres of the “calf-muscle.”
But at the ankle there are no muscles. As they descend the leg, all
the _muscular_ fibres disappear, and there are only _tendons_. These,
though much thinner than the muscles, are very strong; and they are the
cords or ropes by which the muscles pull upon distant parts. As they
pass over the ankle they are strapped down close to the bones by means
of stout sinewy cross-bands, which prevent their starting from their
places when the muscular portions pull at them.
Two especial advantages result from this arrangement.
_First_, the lower part of the leg and the ankle are reduced in size.
Thereby the resistance to the passage of the limb through the air is
lessened; and when it is upon the ground, the leg is less in the way of
the other foot which is swinging, to and fro, beside it. An elegance
of shape is also thereby imparted. The “pretty ankle” owes much of its
charm to the mode in which the tendons are disposed. How comparatively
thick and clumsy would the ankle be if the tendons of the toes took the
straight course represented by the line _a_ in the drawing, instead of
being bound down, as they are, to the curve of the ankle!
[Illustration: Fig. 15.]
_Secondly_, the obliquity with which the tendons run to their
insertions is increased by this arrangement; and the velocity of the
movements to which they minister is increased also. True, a loss of
strength is involved in such a disposition, but the gain in velocity is
of more importance. If (to refer again to the diagram, fig. 15)
the tendon ran in a straight course from the front of the leg to the
great toe, the angle at which it joined the toe would enable it to act
with more strength; but the movements connected with it could not be so
quick as they now are.
We find in the construction of the human frame many instances in which
strength is sacrificed to rapidity of movement in this and other ways.
Scarcely any conceivable amount of strength, for instance, would be an
adequate compensation for a loss of that celerity of movement of the
hand which enables us to strike a blow and drive a nail. No wonder,
therefore, that strength is here sacrificed to obtain celerity. And the
same principle holds good for other parts.
The length and direction of the heel affords a good illustration of
the principle of which I am speaking. When the heel-bone runs out to
a considerable distance, and nearly straight, behind the ankle, as it
does in some of the lower animals and in the inferior races of mankind,
it presents a better leverage to the calf-muscle, which is, then,
enabled to raise the ankle with a less amount of effort; but there
is proportionately less velocity. Accordingly, in the more perfectly
formed foot, such as we find it in the higher races of mankind, the
heel-bone, instead of running out backwards, descends very obliquely,
almost vertically.
In this instance, the loss of strength, which is thus incurred for
the purpose of acquiring celerity in movement, is usually compensated
for by the greater development of the calf-muscle. Hence the high heel
and the well-developed calf go together; and, like most of the other
features of good bodily formation, they are, on the whole, best marked
in the nations which are endued with the highest intelligence, and
which are, in this way, physically, as well as mentally, qualified
to occupy the foremost places in the human family. Thus, we may mark
a relation between the heel and the brain; and, as the comparative
anatomist is able by the inspection of a bone to trace out the skeleton
to which it belonged, so might it be possible for the human anatomist,
by observing minutely the peculiarities of the heel and the other
features of the foot in any particular race of men, to form some
estimate of the capacity and conformation of the skull, and thereby, of
the amount of intelligence.
Contrast the foot and leg of the EUROPEAN (fig. 16), as
represented in the drawing reduced from the Farnese Hercules, with
those of the NEGRO (fig. 17), the drawing of which was taken from
a native of Sierra Leone. In the former the leg is plump and the calf
well developed; the foot is compact and well arched; the heel descends
nearly vertically; and the inner ankle stands clearly out and is raised
high above the ground. In the Negro the leg is thinner and the calf is
not so well defined; the foot is long, flat, and sprawling; the heel is
more horizontal; and the inner ankle does not show clearly, and almost
touches the ground.
[Illustration: Fig. 16.]
[Illustration: Fig. 17.]
[Illustration: Fig. 18. European.]
[Illustration: Fig. 19. Negro.]
Contrast also the outline (fig. 19) of the foot of the same
Negro with that (fig. 18) of an Englishman. Both were traced upon
the ground, and reduced upon the same scale. The Negro was 5 ft.
2 in. in height; the Englishman was 6 ft.; both were of the
same age: yet the Negro’s foot was considerably the larger. It was 11
inches long, 3-1/2 inches across the middle of the instep, and 10-1/2
inches round the balls of the toes. Whereas the Englishman’s foot
was less than 10-1/2 inches long, was 2-1/2 inches across the middle
of the instep, and 9-1/2 inches round the balls of the toes. Even in
this simple outline how much less shapely is the African’s foot. Some
allowance must be made for the fact that the Negro was more accustomed
to go barefooted than the Englishman; and the pressure of the boot or
shoe has, in some degree, the effect of giving compactness to the foot.
In the native AUSTRALIAN the leg is commonly still more lanky, there
being less calf than in the African; and in the MONKEY the heel is
quite horizontal, the sole is flat, and the muscular fibres of the
leg are continued low down, close to the ankle, instead of being
concentrated higher up; so that the leg has nearly the same thickness
from the knee to the foot, and there is no calf at all. Indeed, in
the GORILLA (see fig. at page 90) the circumference of the leg
increases towards the ankle. Thus, the calf may be regarded as the
characteristic of MAN; and a well-developed calf is a characteristic of
the higher members of the human species. The pride, therefore, which
is felt in a well-formed leg is not altogether a senseless folly, but
finds some excuse in the fact that its foundation lies deep in the laws
of physiology and ethnology. It must be confessed, that the fashion
which, in the last century, dictated the knee-breeches, the silk
stocking, and the shoe, evinced a truer appreciation of the dignity and
beauty of the human figure than do the modern investments, which quite
cover up the limbs, encumbering their movements and hiding the beauty
of the leg and ankle.
In the addition of the _high heel_ to the shoe we recognise an effort
to improve upon the original, by exaggerating one of the peculiar
features of the human foot; but it results in a failure, as is
invariably the case with such strainings after a greater perfection
than nature has given. It increases the apparent height of the person
and of the arch of the instep; but it throws the weight too forward
upon the toes, and detracts from the length and security of the step.
Moreover, by causing disuse of the elevators of the heel, it interferes
with the full growth of the calf.
[Illustration: Fig. 20. Chinese.]
This is, however, a harmless piece of vanity in comparison with the
monstrous efforts of the Chinese to mould the foot to their ideal by
squeezing the heel and the toes together. They effect this to such
a degree that (fig. 20) the heel-bone descends vertically from
the ankle, the plantar arch is bent to an acute angle, and the foot
is so crumpled up that all movement in it is effectually prevented,
and the part is reduced almost to a mere stump. These observant and
ingenious people have caught, it may be, the idea that compactness,
elevation of instep, and sudden descent of heel are characteristics
of the well-formed foot, and may urge that they are helping nature
to perfection in the direction which she has herself indicated. But
in their silly attempt at the preternatural, in this impious use, as
it were, of fire stolen from heaven, they simply burn and cripple
themselves, and render themselves ridiculous, and give to all other
nations the much needed lesson that it is enough for man to follow as a
humble imitator of his Maker’s works, and that his attempts to alter,
or improve upon, any part of the wondrous design of creation will
assuredly have the effect of spoiling and defacing it[3].
[3] It is a remarkable statement by a correspondent in _The Times_,
Jan. 14th, 1861, that in the pillage of the Summer Palace of
the Emperor of Pekin “all the ladies of the Court must have had
natural-sized feet, all the slippers found in their rooms being
large; not a single cramped-footed shoe was seen.”
It seems that the several races of mankind are usually rather proud
of their peculiarities, and that each has an inclination to make much
of, and artificially exaggerate, the points in which it differs from
the others. Thus the Chinese are remarkable for the spareness of their
hair and the smallness of their feet; so the men shave their heads,
leaving only the pig-tail, and the women squeeze up their feet in the
remorseless manner we have seen. The Singhalese, who are flat-footed,
are said to consider it one of the requisites for a ‘belle’ that the
soles of her feet should not have any hollow. The red Indians of
America delight in staining and painting their skins of a lively red
colour. The Columbian tribe of Indians increase the natural lowness of
their forehead by flattening it out in infancy, and succeed in bringing
about a deformation of the skull almost as remarkable in its way as is
the effect of Chinese cramping upon the foot. These people also take
pains to reduce the small quantity of hair upon their eyebrows, lips,
and chin, by plucking it out.
_Joints of the Metatarsus with the Tarsus._
[Illustration:
Figs. 25 24. 23. 22. 21.]
I will briefly draw your attention to one other point in the anatomy
of the foot; and that is, the mode in which the “metatarsal” bones
are jointed with the “tarsal.” If you take hold of the ends of the
metatarsal bones--in other words the “balls”--of the great toe and of
the two toes next to it, in your own foot, you will find that you can
move them scarcely at all; they are firmly set upon the rest of the
foot, almost as though they formed one piece with it. If you then try
the end of the metatarsal bone of the fourth toe you will be able to
move it a little upwards and downwards; and in the case of the little
toe the movement is still more distinct. This difference depends upon
the mode of construction of the joints of the metatarsal bones with
the tarsal, which is easily understood by the aid of the accompanying
drawings, representing sections, from above downwards, through these
joints. In 21, 22, and 23, which are the tarso-metatarsal joints of
the great toe and the two next it, the opposed surfaces of the bones
between _c_, _c_, are quite flat, so that the only movement that can
take place is a slight sliding of one bone upon the other, just enough
to assist in breaking the jar, but not enough to interfere with the
firm basis of support which these toes are required to afford to the
plantar arch in consequence of the great stress of the weight in
walking being borne upon this side of the foot. In No. 24, which is the
joint of the ring toe, and still more in No. 25, which is the joint
of the little toe, the end of the metatarsal bone (A) is rounded and
is received into a corresponding concavity or cup in the tarsal bone
(B). This allows a slight revolving of one bone upon the other to take
place, and permits the movement which you discover when you grasp the
balls of these two toes between your fingers. The outer part of the
foot needs not to be so strong and firm as the inner part, because it
does not lie so nearly in the plane of gravity during walking; and the
provision just described, which permits some movement in the outer
two metatarsals, enables the balls of the toes to adapt themselves to
inequalities on the ground, and to share more equally, under various
circumstances, the weight which is thrown upon them.
_Standing and Stooping._
[Illustration: Figs. 26. Standing.
27. Bowing.
28. Stooping.
29. Squatting.]
When we STAND straight upright (fig. 26) the centre of gravity of
the head is directly over a point midway between the two ankles; and
the plane of gravity, represented by the vertical line in the figure,
descends, from the head, through the spine, pelvis, and lower limbs,
to the key-bone of the instep. And you observe that, between the head
and the ankle, the skeleton is not quite straight, but is arranged in
six curves, which are, alternately, in front of and behind the line
of gravity. Of these curves the upper three are in the spine. They
are well marked; the uppermost (_a_) is in the neck and is directed
forwards; the next (_b_) is in the back and is directed backwards;
the third (_c_) is in the loins and is directed forwards. The fourth
curve (_d_), less distinct than those above it, is in the pelvis and
is directed backwards. The fifth and sixth curves are very slight; the
fifth (_e_), directed forwards, is at the hip-joint; and the sixth,
(_f_), directed backwards, is at the knee. The last two curves, though
slight, are not unimportant; and they contribute very much to our
comfort and to prevent fatigue when we are standing: they do so in the
following way. The strong ligaments of the hip are placed towards the
_fore_ part of the joint, that is, in _front_ of the line of gravity;
and the strong ligaments of the knee are placed towards the _back_
part of the joint, that is, _behind_ the line of gravity. It follows
that when these joints are fully extended they are “locked,” as it is
termed, just as is a hinge when opened to a little beyond the straight
line; and, by this means, the muscles are set at rest, and we are able
to maintain the erect posture, for some time, steadily and without
fatigue.
When standing upright in this way, at rest on both legs, or on one leg
in the military position of “at ease,” and the muscles are off their
guard, if a sudden and unexpected, though slight, pressure be made upon
the ham, so as to bend the knee a little and throw the joint in front
of the line of gravity, the man will drop, unless the muscles come
quickly to the rescue--a tendency which has not escaped the observation
of school-boys.
In BENDING or BOWING (fig. 27) the head is carried forwards; and,
to maintain the balance, the opposite pole of the trunk is carried
backwards, so as to preserve the line of gravity still over the ankles.
In STOOPING (fig. 28) or SQUATTING (fig. 29), as in picking
up any thing from the ground, the lower limbs and the trunk are bent in
a zigzag manner; the heels are raised; and the plane of gravity falls,
in front of the ankles, over the balls of the toes. Now we recognise
one of the advantages which accrues to man from the great length of his
thigh. For the head and upper part of the trunk are advanced so far in
_front_ of the feet, that it would be impossible to maintain a balance
at all, even upon the balls of the toes, and we should necessarily fall
forwards, were it not that, owing to the length of the thigh, the lower
part of the trunk is carried backwards to a plane _behind_ the heels,
and so serves to maintain the equilibrium.
_Walking._
[Illustration:
Figs. 30. 31. 32.
Walking.]
[Illustration:
Figs. 33. 34. 35.
Walking.]
Let us next consider the part which the foot performs in WALKING.
To understand this it is necessary to consider its positions and
movements in the several stages of a step. When first placed upon the
ground the foot (R, fig. 30) is a little in advance of the body;
and the heel comes first (fig. 33) into contact with the ground.
The toes quickly follow; and the body, then, passes, vertically, over,
the ankle and the key-bone of the instep. The foot (R, fig. 31
and fig. 34) now rests steadily upon the heel and the balls of
the toes; the other foot (L) leaves the ground, so that the whole
weight is borne by one foot; and the plantar arch of that foot expands
a little, so as to cause slight lengthening of the foot, under the
weight that is laid upon it. Much yielding of the arch is, however,
prevented by the ligaments that brace the arch (fig. 7), and by
the muscles that are disposed beneath it. Next, the heel (fig. 35)
is raised by the action of the calf muscle, and the weight of the body
is thrown forwards, over the balls of the toes, while the other foot
(L, fig. 32) is carried onwards, and is placed upon the ground
ready to receive the weight and commence its carrying work. When this
has been done the foot is withdrawn from the ground; and, in the
withdrawal, a final impulse onward is given, so as to throw the weight
of the body fairly over to the other foot. The fore part of the foot
is then raised, and the knee is bent a little. By these means the toes
are kept clear of the ground, while the foot is swung forward, beside
the other, so as to be ready again to rest upon the ground and bear the
weight of the body.
In each complete step, therefore, there is a period during which the
foot rests upon the ground, and a period in which it is swinging in
the air. In walking the former period is considerably longer than
the latter; and at the commencement, and at the end, of that period
(figs. 30 and 32) the other foot is also upon the ground, so that
it is only during the middle of the time (fig. 31) in which the
foot rests upon the ground that it has to bear the whole weight of the
body.
_Running._
In RUNNING the process is much the same as in walking. The chief
difference is that, whereas in walking _both_ feet are never _off_
the ground at the same time, and both are _upon_ the ground at the
beginning and end of each step; in running _both_ feet are never _on_
the ground at the same time, and both are _off_ the ground, and the
body is flying unsupported through the air, at the beginning and end
of each step (figs. 36 and 38). Thus, you may always distinguish
running, though it be ever so slow, from walking, because, in the
latter, the two feet are upon the ground at the same time; while, in
the former, only one foot touches the ground at a time.
[Illustration:
Figs. 36. 37. 38.
Running.]
The period during which the body rests upon the ground in running is
comparatively very short, being merely the time when one foot is set
down in the middle of each step (fig. 37); and great force has,
consequently, to be exerted to propel the body through the air during
the whole remainder of the step. Hence the exertion of running is much
greater than that of walking. In slow running the same parts of the
foot are applied upon the ground as in walking, and in the same order;
but in quick running the balls of the toes only touch the ground. The
quicker we run the shorter, relatively to the rest of the step, is the
time during which the foot rests upon the ground, and the greater,
consequently, is the effort.
After the foot leaves the ground, in running, it is thrown up behind;
and, at the same time, the fore part of the sole and the toes are
turned a little obliquely _in_wards, so as to prevent their catching
against adjacent objects. If the toes were turned _out_, when thrown
up behind, it would present a very awkward appearance, and we should
frequently be tripped up by their coming in contact with substances
near which we pass. While the foot is being swung forwards the toes
are gradually turned a little the other way. Thus, by the time they
pass the other leg the toes have lost the inclination inwards, and are
directed straight _for_wards; and when the foot has reached a point in
advance of the other leg, and the sole is preparing to present itself
to the ground, the toes are turned a little _out_wards. This turning of
the foot _in_wards and _out_wards during its movement _back_wards and
_for_wards, in each step, is a graceful movement, and may be compared
to the “feathering” of an oar. It takes place, also, in walking, but
is less marked than in running; and in many persons it can scarcely be
discerned during walking.
The distinction between the paces of other animals resembles that
between the walking and the running of man, and is equally definite.
Take, for instance, the WALKING, TROTTING, and GALLOPING of the Horse.
In WALKING the fore and the hind limbs of the _same_ side are moved
together, or nearly together, but they do not leave the ground till the
limbs of the opposite side are placed upon it; so that at one period
all four limbs are upon the ground together. In TROTTING the fore and
the hind limbs of _opposite_ sides move together; but, as in walking,
neither of them are withdrawn from the ground till the opposite one has
reached it[4].
[4] In WALKING the hind leg moves first, then the fore leg of the
same side; and both reach the ground before the hind leg of the
opposite side is raised. So that at one time there are three feet on
the ground, at another two, but never less than two.
In TROTTING, especially quick trotting, one foot is raised at the
same instant that the opposite one is put down. This renders it
difficult to make out the sequence of the movements.
In GALLOPING, or CANTERING, the horse springs or bounds with all four
limbs at the same time; all the feet are thrown up nearly together;
all are off the ground together; and all reach the ground again nearly
at the same time ready for another spring. I say that the feet are
all thrown up _nearly_, and not _quite_, together, because the fore
and the hind limbs of one side take the precedence a little of the
others, or “lead,” as it is called. The trained horse is taught to
lead, habitually, with one, usually the right, side, because the motion
is more steady when the horse is accustomed to gallop in one way than
if he be allowed to vary it. Directly the horse begins to gallop, the
rider knows, by the motion, whether he is leading with the proper
leg. In some animals, as the DEER, the two fore and the two hind feet
move together exactly in galloping. Anthony Trollope tells us that in
Panama, Cuba, and other Spanish countries in the West, the horses are
“taught to pace, that is, move with the two off legs together, and then
with the two near legs. The motion is exceedingly gentle, and well
fitted for those hot climates, in which the rougher work of trotting
would be almost too much for the energies of debilitated mankind.” This
_pacing_ is probably only a quick walk.
When we walk the heels follow one another nearly in a straight line,
as is shewn by “walking a chalk,” or more readily by walking along the
line between the curb and the flagstone pavement; and the plane of
gravity of the body corresponds with this line. There ought, therefore,
to be no perceptible _swerving_ of the trunk from side to side in
walking. There should, also, be scarcely any _rising_ or _falling_;
inasmuch as there are provisions in the mode of bending the limbs
(which I cannot here discuss) to prevent the body from being moved up
and down during the step. The head and shoulders should be carried
along nearly in a straight line. If it were otherwise, if they were
moved in a zigzag or undulating manner, from right to left, or up and
down, the space traversed in a given distance would be much increased,
and there would be a proportionately greater expenditure of muscular
force. By a beautiful combination of movements this is prevented, and
a rectilinear course is maintained, while the weight of the body is
transferred from foot to foot, in a succession of steps.
Only observe a good walker for a minute or two, and you will see
how straight the head is carried along; and when your eye falls upon
a person who “rolls in his walk” you perceive how ungainly are his
movements, and you have an instinctive feeling that he is an awkward
fellow. Whether you are disposed to make an exception in favour of the
British tar, in consequence of his many other good qualities, I must
leave you to judge. His peculiar gait on shore is probably due to his
not being sufficiently practised in straight walking to counteract the
effect of the lounging manner and general disregard for appearances
which he acquires on board ship. Whatever the reason may be, though he
has the better of us in a storm at sea, he certainly does not always
appear to advantage on _terra firma_. Now that a general improvement
in gait and step may be expected among landsmen, as a result of the
volunteer movement, it becomes still more desirable that the sailor
should participate in the good influences of the drill.
Although the heels follow one another in a line the toes diverge a
little from the line, because the foot slants, as I have just said,
somewhat _out_wards when it is placed upon the ground. It results from
this position of the foot that the weight of the body descends upon it
with a slight obliquity, _in_wards as well as forwards; and that is
precisely the direction in which the foot is best prepared to receive
weight. For, when the foot rests upon the ground in this position
all the ligaments on the inner side (and they are very strong) as
well as those beneath, are on the stretch; and the joints, with the
exception of the ankle-joint, are as it were locked, so as to afford
a secure, steady basis of support to the leg. When the weight of the
body descends upon the foot in the direction mentioned a sprain rarely
occurs. It is when the weight falls in the opposite direction, that is,
more or less obliquely _out_wards, and throws the ankle out, that a
sprain easily happens. Thus a slight inequality of the ground, or any
other cause that tilts up the inner edge of the foot, is likely to lead
to a sprain, especially when we are going down hill or down steps.
Here let me remark that a SPRAIN is the result of a stretching of
some ligament, or other part, caused by an undue force being brought
to bear upon it. The ligaments are very strong, and under ordinary
circumstances are not very sensitive; and they are capable of offering
great resistance to force applied in the direction in which they are
calculated to meet it. But, if the force be applied in a direction in
which they are not calculated to meet it, they are easily injured, and
they become, then, very painful. The same is, also, likely to occur if
the force be severe or sudden.
The muscles are a very great assistance to the ligaments, forasmuch
as, by placing and retaining the joints in proper positions, they
regulate the direction in which forces are brought to bear upon
the ligaments. Moreover, by steadying or bracing the joints, they
check or break the force and prevent its being suddenly imposed
upon the ligaments. And the muscles, by virtue of their contractile
property, have the capability of becoming tight in any position of
the joint, which is an immense advantage; whereas a ligament having
no contractility and, usually, no elasticity, is tight only in one
position. The office of a ligament is to limit the movement of a joint
in a particular direction; and, till the joint has assumed a certain
position--till it is bent or straightened to a certain angle--the
ligament does not come into play. During the bending or straightening
of a limb the muscles regulate the movement, and bring it to a stop or
check it before it has gone to its full extent; and, thus, the ligament
is relieved from that sudden imposition of force which would result if
it were required to check the movement of a joint in its full swing.
Accordingly, when the muscles are prepared and in proper action, that
is, when they place the joint in a suitable position and duly support
or brace it, a sprain very rarely occurs. It is when the muscles are
unprepared, when we make a false step, or when the foot encounters an
unexpected obstacle, and the weight falls suddenly upon the ligaments
in an unfavourable direction, that a sprain occurs. A man jumps from a
considerable height, or descends deep steps with a heavy weight upon
his back, and no harm results; but he slips off the curb-stone, or
treads unwarily upon a piece of orange-peel, or turns his foot hastily,
to avoid some object on the ground, and sprains his ankle.
In order that they may do their work well, be alert, and maintain good
guard, the muscles need to be kept in practice. A person unaccustomed
to throw a ball is very liable to sprain his elbow with the sudden
jerk which is required for that feat; or if a person takes to tumbling
and jumping, without proper training, he will probably suffer for his
temerity. Again, common experience tells us that a joint which has been
sprained is, for a long time, liable to be sprained again. This is
because the part remains tender as well as weak; and the muscles do not
brace it steadily and firmly, or come nimbly to its aid when it is in
danger.
In consequence of the foot, in walking, being placed upon the ground
with the toes slanting a little outwards, the _out_er and hinder edge
of the heel first touches the ground. Hence this part of the heel of
the shoe is usually worn down before the remainder. The ball of the
little toe next comes to the ground, and the balls of the other toes
follow in quick succession; and it is from the great toe--that is, from
the inner side of the foot--that the last impulse is given to propel
the body, forwards, over the other foot. In order to give full effect
to this final impulse an especial muscle, the “Long Fibular” muscle (I
in fig. 13), is provided. The tendon (i) of this muscle passes,
behind the outer ankle, beneath the sole of the foot, to the great
toe. It has the effect of pressing the ball of the great toe upon the
ground, while it raises the outer ankle, and so contributes to throw
the weight, across, in the direction of the other foot.
Thus the foot revolves upon the ground, from the heel to the balls of
the toes, and from the outer edge of the former to the inner edge of
the latter; and during the revolution, which has been compared, though
the comparison fails in many points, to the revolving of the segment of
a wheel, the ankle is raised and advanced forwards.
On the complete and steady execution of this movement good walking
chiefly depends, more particularly upon the full performance of the
last stage of the process, viz. the rising fairly upon the balls of
the toes and delivering the weight steadily over to the other foot.
This is the most difficult part of the process, the whole weight of
the body during its execution being borne upon the fore part of the
foot, that is, upon the longer pillar of the plantar arch; forasmuch
as the heel is being raised and the other foot is off the ground. For
the good performance of this part of the process, all the features of
the well-made foot are essential. There must be a high and firm plantar
arch, a heel set at a proper angle, and a strong great toe running
straight forwards. There must be also a fully developed calf to set the
machinery well in motion.
If the plantar arch be low it cannot bear the strain attendant
upon this movement; and the person, in consequence, shirks the full
performance of it. He does that by turning the toes too much out; and,
then, he contrives to roll over the inner side of the foot, instead of
rising upon the balls of the toes; and so he gets along with short,
shuffling, feeble steps. How many persons, owing to one cause or other,
hobble in this way! Some turn the toes very much in, and rise over the
ball of the little toe, instead of over the great toe. This is done
with comparative ease, because the ball of the little toe is nearer to
the ankle; but the step is, thereby, shortened, as well as rendered
less firm and less graceful.
The revolving movement of the foot, or the bringing of its several
parts into contact with the ground in succession, in a distinct manner,
is peculiar to man. Many animals do not bear upon the heel at all; they
only tread upon the toes, and are, therefore, called DIGITIGRADE. Some,
indeed, bear only upon the tips of the toes, as the Horse (fig. 5,
p. 15). Others go upon the balls of the toes, as the Cat, the
Hare, the Pig, and the Dog. Some animals bear upon the heels as well as
the toes, and are called PLANTIGRADE, as the Bear, the Badger, and the
Monkey; but these all flop the sole upon the ground in its whole length
at once. The foot in them is not sufficiently compact and strong to
bear the weight of the body first upon one part then upon another; and
they, consequently, walk in an ungainly manner, as compared with man.
_Character evinced by manner of Walking._
Bear in mind that for the firm vigorous walk there is required, not
only the well-formed limb, but also the manly and determined WILL,
acting in a decided and authoritative manner over the several members
of the body, so that these are accustomed readily, and steadily, to
obey its commands; just as the soldiers of a well-drilled regiment obey
the directions of the superior officer in an orderly and efficient
manner. And, as you may judge of the character of the officer by the
discipline of his men, so may you form an estimate of a man by the
movements of his limbs. You see a man walk along the street, and you
instinctively form an opinion of him by the mode in which he carries
himself and treads the ground. Be careful not to allow yourselves to
be inflexibly biassed by these first impressions, as that amounts to
prejudice. Nevertheless, experience tells us that they are not to be
altogether despised. They originate in a perception of the working of
the great laws by which body and mind are harmonized; and, if fairly
estimated, they rarely deceive us.
We have little difficulty in recognising three chief classes among
pedestrians. _First_, there are those who pay too much attention to
the movements, who walk with a pompous strut, or a mincing gait, or
affect some style or other. We are naturally very little inclined in
favour of such persons; indeed, we have usually to make an effort not
to be decidedly prejudiced against them. _Secondly_, there are those
who pay too little attention to their movements, who do not seem to be
sufficiently alive to the responsibility attaching to the possessors of
so noble a structure as the human frame, and who do not give themselves
the trouble to exert the powers of the glorious mechanism with which
they are charged. They slouch, or dawdle, along in a listless lazy
manner. Instinct tells us, and tells us rightly, to beware how we
trust such persons with the conduct of our affairs, or with any office
of responsibility. We feel that the lack of energy manifested in the
guidance of their limbs is, too probably, a feature of character,
which unfits them for the active duties of life; and we know that such
men are not usually successful in their calling. _Thirdly_, there are
those who shew, by the firmness and precision of their step, and by
the regularity in the succession of the movements by which the step
is made, that they are conscious of the dignity of their species, of
the responsibility attendant on that dignity, and of the respect due
to themselves. Such men we feel are likely to pursue their avocations
energetically and methodically, as well as with punctuality.
Many points of character peep out in the way men walk. Our poet tells
us that in one we may read
“rascal in the motions of his back
And scoundrel in his supple sliding knee.”
Another has a halting, shuffling, undecided gait; while a third walks
in a bold, determined, straight-forward, erect and independent manner.
One has a cautious, parsimonious step, as if sparing of shoe-leather,
or afraid to trust the ground; he has, however, probably, trusted the
funds with considerable investments. Some walk with long, pretentious,
measured strides; others make short, quick, insignificant steps. Some,
again, are hurried, fussy, noisy; while others glide along in a quiet,
shrinking, unpretending, it may be timid, manner.
I need not dilate upon these diversities. Your own observation will
supply abundant illustrations of the correspondence between character
and manner of walking.
The several movements in walking are under the control of the WILL,
and are directed by it, to such an extent that the continuous agency
of the will is essential to the process. If the influence of the will
be suspended, but for a moment, the action ceases, and the man falls
to the ground. Nevertheless, the play of the individual muscles, and
their co-ordination, or the manner in which their several movements
are combined, are, in a great measure, independent of the will.
They are, to a certain extent, automatic, and result from peculiar
relations between the nervous and the muscular systems. The will may
be compared to the driver of an engine, who, by turning on the steam,
and maintaining the supply, sets the machine in motion, and regulates
the rate of its speed; but the several wheels are so arranged that they
go on irrespectively of his immediate superintendence. It would be
impossible for the engine-man to attend to the working of each detail
of his machine; and it would be too much for the will to have to direct
all the movements of the limbs in walking. We should be wearied with
such an effort of attention before we had walked across a room; for the
exercise of the will is exhausting, and soon engenders fatigue. The
more we think of any movement and take pains to direct it, the sooner
we are tired and unable to continue it; and the more the attention is
diverted, the less quickly do we experience a feeling of exhaustion;
while those movements in the body which are not at all under the
influence of the will--the movements of the heart for instance--go on
unceasingly, through a long life, without any sense of weariness. What
so prevents fatigue, when we are walking, as the diverting conversation
of an agreeable companion?
But though the combination of the movements in walking is, to a
certain extent, automatic, it is not complete without the proper
control of the will. This is proved by the gait of those unfortunate
beings in whom the mind, and with it commonly the will, is deficient
from birth--I mean IDIOTS. Their movements are, usually, more or less,
irregular and unharmonious, jerky, without proper steadiness and
rhythm; the head is tossed about; the eye looks one way; the fingers
are sprawled out in another direction; the foot is jerked out at a
hazard, as it were, so that you don’t know when it will reach the
ground, perhaps it kicks against the other foot. A sad spectacle this.
The visit to an Idiot Asylum fills one, it is true, with a sense of the
value of an institution where these poor members of the human family
are kept out of harm’s way, and away from the gibes of the village
boys, and are made clean, and tidy, and taught so far as they are
capable of instruction; but I know no sadder sight than is presented
by a string of the inmates of such an asylum, guided from room to room
by the foremost of the number, who shews by his walk, somewhat more
steady than that of the others, that he is gifted with rather more
intelligence than they, and is so fitted to be their guide.
An equally melancholy, an even more distressing, spectacle is that
of criminals pacing, like animals in their dens, up and down the
court-yard of their prison; for in them we know, that there is no
deficiency of will. It is strong enough to control and regulate
the movements of their limbs; but there is a still more important
deficiency, viz. a deficiency of that moral sense which should control
the will.
Another sad, but physiologically interesting, sight is the rolling
walk of the drunkard. Here, again, the will is not deficient; but it
is, partly, and by its own agency, dethroned. Enough of the will is
left to set the machine going, not enough to guide it and control it
well. Though the movements follow one another, for the most part, in
proper sequence, they are uncertain and ill-directed. The balancing
power is partly lost. The feet are dragged hither and thither, and
thrown about, by the swerving weight of the body; and they follow
one another upon the ground at uncertain intervals, and in any but a
straight line. You watch a man in this state staggering from side to
side, and wonder how he keeps his legs at all. Soon the foot catches
against some slight obstacle or against the other leg, or fails to
come quickly enough into the required place, and the man rolls over.
The supple manner in which his unstrung limbs give under the weight,
perhaps, saves him, to some extent, from the shock; but you must
not imagine that drunkards have any charm against injury. A large
proportion of the accidents admitted into our Hospitals are the result
of drunkenness.
_Distinctive Features of the Human Foot._
I have already made a few comparisons between the human foot and that
of certain of the lower animals. It will be interesting to add some
others.
There are several animals, as the Monkey, the Bear, and some Reptiles,
in which the foot resembles the human foot in many particulars. It has,
for instance, the same number of toes as the human foot, and the same,
or nearly the same, number of bones, and the latter disposed in much
the same manner. Certain peculiarities, however, distinguish the human
foot. These all have reference to the power which man, and man alone,
possesses of standing firmly upright, and of walking steadily, upon the
two feet.
The following are the most important of these distinctive features.
_First._ The several parts are fitted and bound together in a compact
firm manner, so as to combine strength and elasticity in the highest
degree. In this respect the human foot contrasts very remarkably
with the sprawling foot of the Seal or Lizard (figs. 2 and 3,
p. 11). The result is obtained, partly, by the great size of the
tarsal bones, in proportion to the other components of the foot, and,
partly, by the formation of the “Plantar Arch,” which is higher and
stronger in man than in any of the lower animals.
_Secondly._ The TOES are short and small in relation to the other parts
of the foot. In many animals, the Monkey for instance (fig. 44,
p. 89), the toes form the greater part of the foot; and, in some,
the bones of the instep are reduced in number as well as in size: the
reason being that, in such animals, the toes are required to perform a
variety of offices--burrowing in the ground, scratching, holding on to
the branches of trees, catching and tearing prey, &c.--for which their
services are not needed by man.
It may here be noticed that one of the great points of dissimilarity
between the foot and the hand consists in the difference which the
length of the digits bears to the other components in the two members.
They form nearly _half_ the length of the hand, but not more than a
_tenth_ of that of the foot. Clearly, therefore, they constitute a far
less important segment of the lower limb than they do of the upper,
and are intended to perform much less important functions in it. In
the hand the fingers and thumb may be said to constitute the essential
part; whereas the toes do little more than help the foot to adapt
itself to inequalities of the ground and so to obtain a firmer holding.
In civilized countries, accordingly, where we walk, chiefly, upon even
paths and paved streets, very little evil results from the loss of the
services of the toes which is incurred by covering over the foot to
protect it against the hardness of the roads.
We often hear the toes spoken of as ill-treated members, which are
not allowed fair play because the art of man keeps them in a state
of inertness and deprives them of their natural functions. Anatomy,
too, gives some countenance to the idea, inasmuch as it shews that
the muscles which minister to the toes are as numerous as those which
are concerned in moving the fingers; and we occasionally see persons,
who, having been born without hands, or having lost them, contrive to
write and paint and do other unusual offices with their toes. Watch
the movements in an infant’s foot as yet unshod. They are considerably
more free than in your own; especially you will observe that there is
a power of separating the great toe from the others and approximating
it to them which you have, probably, altogether lost. The small size,
however, of the toes, and the comparative fixedness of the inner, or
great toe, prove, that they were never intended for anything like the
same variety of purposes as the fingers, and shew that, under the most
favourable circumstances, the _pes_ could never be _altera manus_, as
some would persuade us that it is. Certainly it was never intended to
be an organ of prehension. Hence, although in practice, boot-makers may
excite our wrath and deserve our condemnation, I don’t think that, in
principle, they are so much to be complained of.
The _third_ striking peculiarity of the human foot is the size of the
inner or GREAT TOE and the firm manner in which its metatarsal bone is
joined to the other bones, so as to render it a main pillar of support
to the foot. These features of the great toe have reference to the
share of the weight of the body which is borne by the inner side of the
foot, more particularly during the last stage of the step, when the
body is propelled forwards over the other foot. Hence it is sometimes
called the “hallux,” from a Greek word (ἅλ-λομαι) signifying to bound
or spring. The _mobility_ of the _thumb_, enabling it to be opposed so
easily to each of the other fingers, is a characteristic of the human
_hand_; and the _solidity_ of the _great toe_ is equally, or even more,
characteristic of the human _foot_. The great toe should be continued,
from the instep, straight along the inner edge of the _foot_, or
inclined a little _in_wards; often, as before mentioned, its phalanges
become inclined _out_wards so as to interfere with the other toes[5].
[5] In ancient times warriors were wont to cut off the _great toes_
as well as the _thumbs_ of their captives to disable them for further
service (Judges i. 6, 7).
Though, in many animals the number of the toes is the same as in man,
this is not the case in all; and we may trace a gradual and progressive
diminution of the number, in the following order.
[Illustration: Figs. 39. Elephant.
40. Hippopotamus.
41. Rhinoceros.
42. Ox.
43. Horse.]
I have said (page 10) that the inner toe is incomplete in all
animals, forasmuch as, in none, does it possess the same complement
of bones as do the other toes. You will not be surprised to find,
therefore, that it is the first to be missing. The ELEPHANT goes upon
_five_ toes; but if you look closely you will perceive that the inner
toe (fig. 39, I.) has not attained even its usual incomplete
number of bones. It is short of one; and the inner wedge-bone, which
looks like a metacarpal bone, is prolonged, downwards, to supply the
place, and to give sufficient length to the toe. The same thing may be
seen in some other animals, and it is interesting as shewing the first
indication of departure from what may be called the standard number of
the phalanges. In the HIPPOPOTAMUS (fig. 40) we have an additional
stage of imperfection in this same toe; for here there is only one
small bone to remind us of the existence of the toe (it is the same in
the Rhinoceros, I.); all the rest have failed to be developed; and the
animal, consequently, goes upon _four_ toes. Next the failure appears
on the _out_er side of the foot, and affects the little toe. Thus, the
RHINOCEROS (fig. 41) goes upon _three_ toes--namely, Nos. II. III.
and IV.--and there is scarcely a trace either of the first toe or of
the fifth. In Ruminating animals, as the OX (fig. 42), the second
toe is wanting, as well as the first and the fifth; so that the foot
rests upon _two_ toes (Nos. III. and IV.); and in the HORSE (fig. 43),
as we have already seen, only _one_ toe--the middle one (No. III.)--is
developed sufficiently to reach the ground.
[Illustration: Fig. 44. Gorilla.]
Whatever pretensions to Humanity the MONKEY may make--and they are
sufficiently striking to render some persons very uncomfortable on
the score of relationship--he is certainly far removed from us in the
construction of the foot (fig. 44); and the good people to whom
I have alluded may derive consolation from the reflection that, in
this respect at least, there is very little indication of cousinship.
Indeed we ought not to speak of his _foot_ at all; for the part which
corresponds with the human foot does not even deserve that name. It is
so much more like a hand, that the term four-handed, or _quadrumanous_,
is by naturalists applied to this class of animals. There is scarcely
any plantar arch; the animal bears, chiefly, upon the outer edge of the
foot; the digits are long and strong; and the inner one, instead of
being parallel with the others, diverges from them so as to constitute
a true _thumb_ instead of a great toe. All these points are very
suitable for enabling the animal to cling to branches of trees, and for
other prehensile purposes; but they unfit him for the upright posture,
and render it impossible for him to walk steadily upon his lower limbs.
[Illustration: Fig. 45. Gorilla.]
In the great ape called the GORILLA, which is found in the
south-western part of Africa, and of which many specimens have now been
sent to this Country, the _hind-hand_ is of great size and strength, as
may be seen in the accompanying drawing made from a stuffed specimen
in the British Museum. The lower part of the leg is also very thick,
owing to the size of the muscles which move the great toe and the other
digits, and which enable them to give a most powerful grasp. So strong
and savage is the creature that all efforts to capture one alive, when
full-grown, have, hitherto, failed. He is said to give evidence of his
strength of hand and of his amiable propensities in the following way.
He swings by his fore-hands from the trees, and, letting himself down
quietly by them, watches an opportunity of seizing by the neck, with
his huge hind-hand, some unwary Negro who may be passing by, draws him
up, and holds him with vice-like grasp, till his struggles have ceased,
and then drops him a strangled corpse to the ground.
Most of the characters above mentioned as distinctive of the human
foot--such as its compactness and strength, the height of the plantar
arch, the shortness of the toes--are, like the size of the calf, most
marked in the higher members of the human family, in those, that is to
say, who are gifted with the highest intelligence. Thus the formation
of the foot is found to have a correspondence with the formation of
the head, and may, like it, be, to a certain extent, taken, as I
have before remarked, to be an index of intellectual, as well as of
physical, capacity. The relation between the intellectual power and
the physical conformation of man, which is here exemplified, and which
is maintained throughout the frame, is a subject of extreme interest,
and is one which has not attracted the attention of anatomists and
ethnologists so much as it deserves.
To what secondary causes this harmonious adaptation of body to mind
may be due, we cannot clearly tell; but we can see in it a provision
for giving physical ascendancy to superior intellect. And it is most
gratifying to be able to derive, as we may do, from this as well as
from the observation of the past and the present, the assurance that
the cultivation of the mind, provided its moral tone be preserved and
proper sanitary precautions be taken, is not likely to be attended with
any deterioration of the body. On the contrary, we have good reason to
believe that the present civilized nations of the earth, with their
higher mental culture, are inferior to none of their predecessors
in the qualities of the body; surely soldiers never maintained a
hand-to-hand struggle better than the victors at Inkermann; and we
know that the civilized nations are physically superior to most of the
uncivilized. We have good ground, therefore, to hope that the extension
of education and commerce will be productive, on the whole, of an
improvement of the physical condition of the species.
Sir James Emerson Tennent says that the Veddahs, or aboriginal
inhabitants of Ceylon, use the foot in drawing the bow. They sit down,
place the toe against it, and draw the string with the hand; and some
of the American Indians appear to have used both feet in the same way.
These Veddahs furnish a good illustration of the low physical condition
which is usually associated with absence of mental culture. They are
described as in a singularly degraded state. “They have scarcely any
language, no knowledge of God, nor of a future state, no temples, no
idols, no altars, prayers, or charms; and, in short, no instinct of
worship, except it be some addiction to ceremonies, analogous to devil
worship, to avert storms, lightning, and sickness. All presented the
same characteristics of wretchedness and dejection--projecting mouths,
prominent teeth, flattened noses, stunted stature, and other evidences
of the physical depravity which is the usual consequence of hunger
and ignorance. The children were unsightly objects, entirely naked,
with misshapen joints, huge heads, and protuberant stomachs. The women
were the most repulsive specimens of humanity I have ever seen in any
country.”
_The Proportions of the Limbs._
A few years ago I took the measurements of numerous skeletons which
I found in the museums in France, Germany, and England, and made the
following table to shew the proportions of the several parts.
The length of the foot and hand is in all somewhat greater than it
should be, in consequence of the bones composing them being usually
less closely articulated in the artificial skeleton than they are in
nature.
From this it appears that the limbs of MAN differ from those of the
APE, chiefly, in the proportionate length of the thigh and arm, and in
the shortness of the foot and hand. And it will be seen that, in both
these particulars, the NEGRO differs from the EUROPEAN and exhibits
some approximation to the APE.
I found, also (the tables shewing this are given in my work on the
Human Skeleton), that these characteristic proportions of the European
are brought out only during growth; for that in the early periods of
infancy the foot and hand are, relatively, very long, and the thigh
is actually shorter than either the leg or the foot, and the arm is
shorter than either the forearm or the
MEASUREMENTS OF SKELETONS (IN INCHES).
+----------+---+------------+------+-------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-------------+
| | H | | |C S| H | R | H | F | T | F | Pelvis. |
| | e | Middle |Spine,|i f k| u | a | a | e | i | o +------+------+
| | i | point | |r e o u| m | d | n | m | b | o | | |
| | g | of |length|c r f l| e | i | d | u | i | t |Trans.|Ant.- |
| | h | spine. | of. |u e l| r | u | . | r | a | . | dia- |post. |
| | t | | |m n .| u | s | | . | . | |meter.|dia- |
| | . | | |- c | s | . | | | | | |meter.|
| | | | | e | . | | | | | | | |
+----------+---+------------+------+-------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+
|European | | | | | | | | | | | | |
|(average |65 | Symphysis | 22.2 | 20.5 |12.7 | 9.2 | 7.3 |17.88|14.4 |10.6 | 5.2 | 4.3 |
| of 25) | | pubis. | | | | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | | | | |
|Negro | |{ 1 inch }| | | | | | | | | | |
|(average |62 |{ below }| 19.3 | 19.8 |12.1 | 9.4 | 7.7 |17 |14.4 |11.11| 4.6 | 4.1 |
| of 25) | |{Symphysis.}| | | | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | | | | |
|Bosjesman | | | | | | | | | | | | |
|(average |54 | Symphysis. | 17 | 19.6 |10.8 | 8.3 | 6 |15 |12.9 | 7.5 | 4.4 | 3.5 |
| of 3) | | | | | | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | | | | |
|Idiot | | | | | | | | | | | | |
|(in Berlin|57 | | 19.5 | 13.5 |12 | 8.8 | 7 |16 |12.5 | 8.5 | 5 | 3.8 |
| Museum) | | | | | | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | | | | |
|Chimpanzee| |{ 3 inches }| | | | | | | | | | |
|(average |50 |{ above }| 17 | |12.2 |11 | 9 |12.4 |10 |10.5 | 4 | 5.5 |
| of 4) | |{Symphysis.}| | | | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | | | | |
|Orang | |{ 3-1/2 }| | | | | | | | | | |
|(average |44 |{ inches }| 18 | |14 |14 |10 |10.6 | 9.2 |12 | 3.8 | 4.5 |
| of 2) | |{ above }| | | | | | | | | | |
| | |{Symphysis.}| | | | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | | | | | |
|Gorilla | |{ 4 inches }| | | | | | | | | | |
|(average |58 |{ above }| 21 | |16.6 |12.9 | 9 |13.9 |11.3 |12 | 5.7 | 7.3 |
| of 3) | |{Symphysis.}| | | | | | | | | | |
+----------+---+------------+------+-------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+
hand; and it is only, gradually, during the advance to manhood,
that the proper proportions are attained. So that the transient or
immature condition of the human frame shews certain resemblances to the
permanent Negro type and to that of the quadrumanous animals; and these
resemblances become obliterated during further growth.
The accounts of travellers indicate that some other nations
present great varieties in the proportion which the length of the
foot and hand bears to the height. Bushmen and Hottentots are very
diminutive, commonly under 5 feet in height; and their hands and
feet are remarkably small and delicate, in which respect they differ
from Negroes. Mr Bartram observes with regard to the Cherokees or
Muscogulges--a tribe of North American Indians--that the women are,
perhaps, the smallest race of women yet known, almost all under
5 ft.; and their hands and feet are not larger than those of
Europeans of 9 or 10 years of age. He tells us, also, what is very
strange, that the men of this same tribe are of gigantic stature, “a
full size larger than Europeans,” many of them above, and a few under,
6 ft.; but he says nothing of the size of their hands and feet.
The hands and feet of the Patagonians are said to be very small. This
may be contrary to what we might expect; but it accords with what I
found to be the case in the skeletons of some Giants which I measured;
for in all of them the feet and the hands were disproportionately
short. It would seem, therefore, that, whether the stature of the
individual be diminutive or gigantic, the foot and the hand, in either
case, are, usually, less than their proper relative length. A greater
number of accurate data are, however, necessary to enable us to
generalise correctly upon this and other points of a like nature, or to
decide what truth there is in the common remark, that a long foot in a
child indicates a tall man.
In former times the parts of the human body were used as measures; and
it was not uncommon to illustrate the tables of measures by drawings
of the human body, with descriptions of the foot, palm, &c. One of the
tables of the 16th century, derived in great part from the Romans and
the Greeks, is founded upon the notion, which is not very far from
the truth, that in the well proportioned man, the breadth of the palm
is a 24th part of the whole stature, and the length of the foot a 6th
part, and the length of the cubit--from the elbow to the end of the
fingers--a 4th. The measures, however, varied at different times and in
different countries, even though the names were the same. The latter
have, in several instances, remained, though the definite measure
which they now indicate is different from what it was, and differs
from that of the part of the body from which the name was taken. Thus,
our present foot measure (twelve inches) is considerably more than the
length of the human foot.
_The Skin of the Sole._
The SKIN of the sole is soft and yet very tough and strong. It
underlies a thick pad of fat, which separates it from the bones and the
plantar ligament. The fat is interwoven with fibres passing, through
it, from the tissue of the skin to the bones and ligaments. It is,
in this way, rendered very firm, though it retains much of the soft
quality of fat; and it forms an admirable cushion for receiving the
weight of the body and defending from injurious pressure both the skin
and the other parts of the foot. The fibres just mentioned bind the
skin to the superjacent bones and ligaments, and hold it firmly to
them, so as to prevent its being displaced from them in the movements
of the foot upon the ground.
[Illustration: Fig. 46.]
The accompanying woodcut shows that these connecting fibres are
most numerous where there is the greatest pressure, viz. beneath the
heel and the balls of the toes. It shows, too, that they take the
direction at each of those parts which is most calculated to prevent
displacement. Thus, at the heel their direction is chiefly from the
heel-bone, backwards, to the skin. When we place the heel upon the
ground in walking, the weight of the body has a tendency to drive the
heel-bone _for_wards from the skin; and the direction of the fibres,
from the heel-bone, _back_wards, just resists this tendency and
holds the skin and the bone firmly together. On the contrary, when
we withdraw the foot from the ground the pressure is in the opposite
direction, and has a tendency to drive the metatarsal bones _back_wards
from the skin. The course of the fibres is, consequently, changed.
They, many of them at least, run _for_wards from the bones and prevent
the displacement that would be likely to occur. This direction is also
very marked, and for the same reason, at the end of the great toe. A
bundle of fibres radiates from the projecting process, or tubercle,
which is conspicuous upon the under surface of the bone near its end;
and the greater number of them run _for_wards, through the pulp of the
toe, to the skin, and maintain the connection of the skin with the bone
when the latter is pressed _back_wards in withdrawing the foot from the
ground.
The skin of the sole has a peculiar sensitiveness, which enables it to
take quick cognisance of contact with the ground or of any injurious
substances lying upon the ground. The sensitiveness in the foot is
rather increased by its being so much covered up. We are aroused to a
consciousness of this sensitiveness when the soles are tickled, or when
any one treads on our toes, especially if there happen to be a corn
there. We know also how sensitive the feet are to cold, and how liable
we are to catch cold from wet feet. This sensitiveness renders washing
the feet a refreshing luxury, especially in hot climates or when we
are fatigued. It is a luxury much indulged in by Eastern nations;
“Mephibosheth had neither dressed his feet nor trimmed his beard from
the day the king departed, until he came again in peace;” and among
the Jews in our Saviour’s time (Luke vii. 38), when guests were made
very welcome, their sandals were unloosed, and their feet washed and
carefully wiped, and, if the person were of high rank, anointed.
The integument of the foot varies in different animals, according to
the nature of the ground upon which they tread and other circumstances.
Thus the Elephant, the Hippopotamus, and the Rhinoceros, living in
jungles and in marshy districts, have a more or less soft covering of
skin. Oxen and Horses gallop about upon dry ground; and their feet
are soled with thick hoofs of horn. The Dog has tough pads of skin
with thick cuticle upon his feet; and the feet of the Feline tribe
are muffled with fur so as to enable them to approach their prey with
a noiseless tread. Man’s foot is, by nature, like the rest of the
surface of his body, comparatively unprotected; but as the foot, by its
efficiency, emancipates the hand from the drudgery of carrying, so does
the latter make some return for this relief by providing artificial
coverings which enable the foot to tread upon various surfaces, and
protect it against the inclemencies of the seasons.
_On Shoes._
A few words on the subject of SHOES. No one will dispute the
correctness of the principle that the shoe should be made to fit the
foot; yet it is not a little remarkable that this principle is so often
departed from in practice, and that the usual plan is to make the foot
adapt itself to the shoe. That is, the shape of the shoe is determined
according to the fancy of the maker or the dictates of fashion, and
the foot is expected to mould itself accordingly. This is particularly
the case with the fore part of the shoe, into which the toes, or most
compliant parts of the foot, are squeezed. Thus, the shape of the
sole of a sound foot is about that represented in fig. 47; the
great toe is seen to be free from the others, and the line of its
axis, prolonged backwards, traverses the centre of the heel. Compare
this with the outline of the sole of a shoe as usually made; and the
violence that is done to nature is at once perceived. The shoe is made
quite symmetrical, or is curved a little in the part between the heel
and the sole--in the “waist” as it is called--when the shoes are to be
worn on the left and right foot respectively; and the toes, instead
of being allowed to spread out a little, are pressed together, and
made to converge to a point in the line of the middle toe, as seen in
fig. 48.
[Illustration: Figs. 47. 48. 49. 50.]
The line of the great toe is thus quite altered, and the other toes
are tightly wedged together (figs. 49 and 50); or, not being able
to find room side by side, they overlap one another and form unsightly
projections beneath the upper leather of the shoe. No wonder that
“corns” and “bunions” and “in-growing toe-nails” are the frequent
result of this treatment, and that so many persons are compelled to
walk in a cautious, feeling manner, and to watch the ground narrowly,
lest their cramped and tender toes come into contact with a stone or
other projecting body.
How greatly to be lamented it is that the foot should be thus
maltreated and distorted, and that walking should be made so painful,
and that the shoe, which is intended to befriend and protect the foot,
and which, if well fitted, would support it and preserve its shape,
and make some amends to it for the rough hard roads upon which it is
compelled to tread, should be thus perverted into a means of galling it
and impairing its functions.
This subject has been treated of in a simple and concise manner by
Dr Meyer, Professor of Anatomy at Zurich, in a small pamphlet, which
has been translated into English by Mr Craig, and entitled, “_Why the
Shoe pinches_[6].” I hope it may be read by boot-makers, and may lead
to some improvement in their art. Dr Meyer very properly remarks that
one of the main points to be attended to is, to allow the great toe to
have its normal position; and this can be done by making the inner edge
of the sole incline _in_wards, from the balls of the toes, instead of
_out_wards. The accompanying drawing (fig. 51) gives the outline
of a shoe designed under his superintendence, and shows the difference
between it and the usual shape, the latter being indicated by the
dotted outline. In fig. 52 the shoe is pointed, the pointing being
effected from the outer side. I have often laboured, but laboured in
vain, to impress the same point, and hope the more systematic attempt
of Professor Meyer may lead to better results.
[6] _Why the Shoe pinches_, a contribution to Applied Anatomy by
Hermann Meyer, M.D. Professor of Anatomy in the University of Zurich,
translated from the German by John Stirling Craig, L.R.C.P.E.,
L.R.C.S.E., price sixpence.
The preceding four figures and the two following are taken from this
pamphlet with Mr Craig’s permission.
[Illustration: Figs. 51. 52.]
With regard to the _heel-piece_, I have already said that it should
not be high because it makes the step less steady and secure, and at
the same time shortens it, and impairs the action of the calf-muscle.
A high heel-piece, moreover, renders the position of the foot upon the
ground oblique, placing the fore part at a lower level than the heel;
thus the weight is thrown too much in the direction of the toes, and
they are driven forwards and cramped against the upper leather of the
shoe. The high-heel of a boot, therefore, tends to aggravate the evils
which are caused by the insufficient and ill-adjusted space which is
allowed to the toes.
* * * * *
This account of the foot has necessarily been very superficial and
imperfect. There are many points in its anatomy to which I have not
even alluded; but, if I have succeeded in giving you some idea of the
general plan of its construction, and in stimulating you to further
enquiry respecting the mechanism of the Human Frame, my purpose will
have been served. Still more will it have been so, if you carry away
with you some sense both of the Pride and of the Humility which the
review of such a structure is calculated to excite--of pride, not
selfish pride, but pride resulting from a consciousness of the nobility
of your physical nature, a pride which will make you spurn what is bad
and degrading, and will help you to aspire to what is elevated and
good. The impressions resulting from a comparison of this one fragment
of Nature’s work with our own most laboured achievements must quell
any other pride; and the very admiration with which we contemplate the
structure of our body impels us to walk humbly with our God, whose gift
that body is.
THE HUMAN HAND.
The great characteristic of the Hand, as distinguished from the Foot,
is the mobility of the first digit, or thumb. Accordingly when this
digit stands out apart from the others, and can be moved independently
of them, so as to be more or less completely opposed to them, in the
upper or Mammalian Class of animals, at least, we call the member a
Hand. When this digit is absent, or is fixed in the same manner as the
others, which is the case in each of the four limbs of Quadrupeds, we
call the member a Foot. In Monkeys, or in most of them, the thumb is
present and is separate and moveable in each of the four limbs; and
these animals are, therefore, called “quadrumanous” or “four-handed.”
Man, having the moveable thumb upon each of the two upper limbs only,
is “bimanous” or “two-handed.” By this peculiarity, perhaps more
definitely than by any other, he is distinguished in structure from all
the rest of the animal series; and naturalists have, accordingly, given
the epithet “Bimanous” to the class in which he is placed, and in which
he stands alone.
The hand is the executive or essential part of the upper limb. Without
it the limb would be almost useless. The whole limb is, therefore, so
made as to give play and strength to the hand; and, in ever so brief a
description of the hand, it is necessary, even more than in the case
of the foot, to give some idea of the manner in which the other parts
of the limb are constructed, and to dwell a little upon such points as
have relation to its movements.
[Illustration: Fig. 53.]
The general plan of construction of the upper limb will readily
be understood by means of the drawings (figs. 53 and 58,
p. 122). It resembles very much that of the lower limb
(see fig. 4, page 15). The one bone of the upper arm--the
_humerus_--resembles the one bone of the thigh, and is jointed, above,
with the shoulder-blade, which, with the collar-bone, corresponds
with the pelvis. Below, it is connected with the two bones of the
fore-arm--the _radius_ and _ulna_; and these correspond with the two
bones of the leg. In the wrist there are eight bones, called _carpal_
bones, arranged in two rows. These are connected with five _metacarpal_
bones; and these, like the metatarsals of the foot, are jointed with
the _phalanges_. Of the latter there are three in each finger; but in
the thumb, as in the great toe (page 10), there are only two.
[Illustration: Fig. 54.]
The diagram shows how the bones of the hand are arranged in three
divisions. Thus, the upper row of carpal bones (3, 4, 5) consists,
practically, of three bones; the fourth (6), which is much smaller than
the others, being rather an appendage to one of them than a distinct
constituent of the wrist. (According to this view, the number of the
wrist-bones corresponds exactly with that of the tarsal bones of the
foot, viz. 7). The _outer_ of these three carpal bones (3) bears the
thumb[7] and the fore-finger (I. and II.), and constitutes, with them,
the outer division of the hand; the inner one (5) bears the ring-finger
and the little finger (IV. and V.), and constitutes the _inner_
division of the hand; and the middle one (4) bears the middle finger
(III.), and is the _middle_ division of the hand. The diagram shows,
too, that the two outer bones (3 and 4), with the two outer divisions
of the hand, are connected with the radius; whereas the inner bone (5)
only, with the inner division of the hand, is connected with the ulna.
Strictly speaking, even this bone is not directly connected with the
ulna, but is separated from it, as will be shown presently, by a thick
ligament.
[7] In deference to custom we call the palm the _front_ of the hand;
and, therefore, we speak of the thumb as the _out_er and the little
finger as the _in_ner digit: though it would better accord with the
ordinary position of the part, with its correspondence with the foot
and with comparative anatomy, to reverse these terms.
You frequently hear ignorant persons (and the greater number of
persons are lamentably ignorant of the structure of their own body)
speaking of the _small bones_ of the shoulder, or the _small bones_
of the elbow. You may think this a matter of no importance, and that
it does not concern you and people generally to have any knowledge of
human anatomy. But I will tell you what is very often happening, and
will leave you to judge whether such complete ignorance on this subject
is not attended with some practical disadvantage. A man meets with an
injury, falls and hurts his shoulder. The immediate effects of the
injury subside; but he does not quickly recover the use of the part; he
still cannot raise his elbow, or put his hand upon his head, or put it
behind him. Soon he begins to think that something more is wrong than
has been suspected; and the notion creeps over his mind, and gradually
takes possession of it, that some small bone is displaced. Not content
with the assurances of his medical man, he resorts to a quack, called
a “bone-setter.” The latter, taking advantage of the popular fallacy,
gratifies the patient with the information that his fears are correct,
affirms that “a small bone is out,” and proceeds forthwith to employ
the requisite forcible measures for putting the said “small bone” in. I
need not say with what result. Every year, in this civilized country,
many persons are maimed for life by these attempts to put imaginary
small bones in. I beg you, therefore, particularly to observe that
_there is no small bone_ either at the shoulder or at the elbow. The
only small bones are at the wrist; and these are so well fitted to one
another, and so firmly bound together, that nothing short of a crushing
force suffices to displace them. This remark respecting the small bones
of the wrist is true of nearly all the small bones in other parts of
the body. So that, in fact, small bones are very rarely dislocated;
and when you hear it asserted that a small bone is out, you may pretty
confidently conclude that the speaker does not know what he is talking
about.
I have said that the upper limbs resemble the lower in their general
construction. There are, however, some important differences; and
one of the chief of these is the greater variety and freedom of the
movements in the upper limbs. _Strength_, for the purpose of carrying
the body, is the object in the lower limbs. _Mobility_ is the requisite
in the upper limbs. Of this one example has already been given in the
instance of the thumb as compared with the great toe.
_Movements at the Shoulder._
An equally striking example is afforded by the shoulder. In the
first place, the “Shoulder-blade” itself can be moved in several
directions--upwards, downwards, backwards and forwards;--whereas
the “Pelvis,” i. e. the part which bears to the lower limb the same
relation that the shoulder-blade does to the upper-limb, is immoveably
fixed.
Secondly, the “Shoulder-joint” is so made as to permit a great variety
and extensive range of movements to take place. We can move the arm
forwards or backwards, as in throwing a ball, or, in sword exercise; we
can raise it so that the limb points straight upwards; and we can swing
it round in any direction. It is owing to the free movement in this
joint that we are able to apply the hand to every part of the body, so
as to remove sources of irritation. It is interesting to observe how
other animals get on without hands, though they are much exposed to
what we should consider great annoyance, as from flies, &c. The Cow,
for instance, lashes its hide with its tail. The Cat licks itself with
its tongue. The Sparrow dusts itself by the road-side. The Pig and the
Donkey roll in the mud. And many of them, as the Horse and the Ox,
have a thin muscle, called “panniculus carnosus,” spread out under the
skin, which effects those sudden twitchings of the skin whereby they
are enabled to jerk off anything that troubles them. In Man the hand
answers better than all these methods combined; and it is necessary
that it should do so, because his skin is more sensitive and less
protected by natural covering than that of any other animal.
[Illustration: Fig. 55.
Chest and shoulders of man.]
For this freedom of movement of the arms, so important to the
usefulness of the hand, we are much indebted to the “Collar-bones.”
These bones, so called because they are placed at the lower part of
the _collum_ or neck, extend, horizontally, from the upper edge of the
breast-bone, to the processes of the blade-bones which overhang the
shoulder-joint. Thus they hold the shoulders apart, and give width to
the upper part of the chest. They also steady the shoulder-blades,
and afford a _point d’appui_ to the muscles which effect the lateral
movements of the arms,--for instance, to the muscles which tend to draw
the arms together, as when we hold anything, between the hands, in
front of us; and to those which separate the arms from one another, as
when we stretch them out at right angles with the body.
[Illustration: Fig. 56.
Chest and shoulders of bird.]
Many animals--the ELEPHANT, the RHINOCEROS, the HORSE and the OX--have
no collar-bones; and they are only able to swing their fore limbs to
and fro. They cannot execute any lateral movements. They cannot throw
the limbs out sideways, nor press their fore feet together, so as to
hold anything between them. If the horse wants to seize or hold any
substance he must do it with his mouth. The Elephant has a special
provision for the purpose of prehension in his trunk, which enables him
to provide himself with food by pulling down the branches of trees.
The LION and the TIGER can press their fore paws together sufficiently
to enable them to hold their prey, and fix it upon the ground, while
they put the head down to it and pull at it and tear it with their
teeth; and they are furnished with rudimentary, or half, collar-bones
suspended in the flesh of the upper part of the chest; while the
little SQUIRREL, which sits upon its hind legs, and holds up the nuts
between its fore paws to be nibbled, has complete collar-bones. So has
the flying BAT, the climbing SLOTH and the digging MOLE. In BIRDS the
collar-bones (fig. 56, AA) are very large; and, for the purpose of
giving them greater strength, they are united together in the middle
line just above the breast-bone, forming what is commonly called the
“merry-thought;” and, as this is not sufficiently strong to resist the
force of the powerful muscles which flap the wings and sustain the
animal in the air, there are, in addition, stout “side-bones,” called
by anatomists “coracoid bones.” These (B) run, from the breast-bone
(D), in the same direction as the collar-bones, one, on either side, to
the shoulder-blades (C); and they afford even more efficient support to
the shoulders than do the collar-bones. The coracoid bones are peculiar
to oviparous animals, or nearly so. In some reptiles, as the CROCODILE,
they quite supersede the collar-bones.
These few examples are enough to show that freedom of movement of
the arms, especially of lateral movement, is closely associated with,
and, indeed, is dependent upon the shoulder-blades being supported
and steadied by bones, which extend from the breast-bone to the
shoulder-blades, and fasten the one to the other.
But, even the powers and advantages conferred by nature have often
some drawbacks; and this free play of the arm at the shoulder in man,
of which we are speaking, and the provision for it afforded by the
collar-bone, are no exceptions to the remark. It is necessary for so
great a range of movement that the socket in the shoulder-blade should
be shallow, and that the ligaments which connect the arm-bone with the
blade-bone should be loose. Hence the shoulder-joint is weak as regards
its ability to resist injury. The collar-bone also causes the shoulder
to project so much that it is greatly exposed to injury and often bears
the brunt of a fall. A man is thrown from a horse or is knocked down
upon the ground, and, if anything prevents the hand being stretched
out, the chances are that he falls upon the shoulder. True, the head is
saved thereby; but the shoulder suffers. Hence the shoulder-joint is
more often dislocated than any other; and no bone is more frequently
broken than the collar-bone. Even in little children, in whom,
notwithstanding their many tumbles, the other bones usually contrive to
escape, the collar-bones are often broken; and in grown-up persons the
shoulder is sometimes dislocated by the mere action of the muscles, as
in swimming, or throwing, or lifting a weight above the head.
That you may understand the movements of the shoulder a little more
fully, I will ask you to contrast the drawing (fig. 58), which
shows the position of the blade-bone upon the chest in Man, with the
drawing (fig. 57) of the corresponding parts of the Rhinoceros;
and you will at once recognise several important differences, besides
the presence of the collar-bone in the one and its absence in the other.
[Illustration: Fig. 57. Rhinoceros.]
In the RHINOCEROS the chest is deep, from the back-bone to the
breast-bone, and is flattened at the sides; and the depth of this part
of the trunk is increased, slightly, by the breast-bone projecting,
keel-like, underneath, and, much more, by the spines of the back-bone
running up into a high ridge, above. The blade-bone and the arm-bone
are applied against the flat side of the chest, and lie, lengthways,
between the spine and the breast-bone, nearly parallel with the
broad flat ribs. The blade-bone has no process overhanging the
shoulder-joint, and, as before said, there is no collar-bone. The short
thick arm-bone descends nearly in a line with the blade-bone, and has
huge processes at its upper end for the attachment of muscles. The
parts are designed to bear the great weight of the animal, and to carry
its ponderous head and horn; but the only movement of which they admit
is a sliding of the blade-bone and arm-bone, backwards and forwards,
upon the side of the chest.
In animals of similar construction to the Rhinoceros, but of lighter
frame, and of greater fleetness, the blade-bone is placed more
obliquely, which gives freer and easier movement both to it and to the
arm-bone. This, for instance, is the case with the well-bred horse, and
if we want a quick-going horse, one that can lift his fore feet well,
we should observe whether the shoulder-blade is oblique, and whether
the spines of the back rise well above it. Such a horse is said to have
“a good shoulder” and to be “well up.” He will carry a saddle well, and
is not likely to trip.
[Illustration: Fig. 58.]
In MAN the chest has proportionately less depth and length, and greater
breadth, than in any other animal; the breast-bone is quite flat;
and the spines of the back are sloped downwards, so that they do not
project beyond the level of the ribs and the blade-bones. Hence he can
lie easily either upon the stomach or the back--a privilege which is
shared with him by very few of the lower animals. Scarcely any of them
can lie upon the back, or even upon the stomach without the help of the
fore limbs. The donkey enjoys rolling over and over upon a dusty road,
but he cannot poise himself for a minute upon his back.
The sides of Man’s chest, moreover, are not _flat_, as in the
Rhinoceros and Horse, but _rounded_, so that the blade-bones can
revolve upon them to and fro, as well as slide upwards and downwards;
and the long arms--comparatively long, that is, from the shoulder to
the elbow--hang quite free of the chest and form sharp angles with the
blade-bones.
The blade-bones are accommodated to the shape of the chest; for,
instead of being elongated in a direction parallel with the ribs, they
are prolonged downwards, along the sides of the chest, at right angles
with the ribs. This prolongation of the lower part of the blade-bone
is very important, inasmuch as it enables the muscles to hold the
bone steady upon the wall of the chest, and so gives greater power to
those muscles which pass from the blade-bone to the arm and act upon
the shoulder-joint. Were it not for this provision the contraction of
the muscles intended to raise the arm would quite fail to produce the
desired effect, and instead of it would simply cause the shoulder-blade
to revolve upon a transverse axis. That is to say, when we endeavoured
to raise the arm our effort would merely have the effect of raising the
hinder part of the shoulder-blade.
In each of these particulars--in the form of the chest, and in the
shape and direction of the shoulder-blade--the Monkey is intermediate
between Man and the inferior animals. The Monkey’s chest is broad
and round, in proportion to its length, if we compare it with other
animals; but this is less marked than in the human chest. And you
perceive that the Monkey’s back-bones project, as they do in other
animals, beyond the level of the ribs. The blade-bones are also like
those of Man in being prolonged downwards, and in being carried, to a
certain extent, across the ribs; but their lower angles do not run so
far in this direction as they do in the human skeleton.
[Illustration: Fig. 59. Monkey.]
The movement of raising the arm, as in carrying the hand _outwards_,
or pointing upwards, or putting the hand upon the head, is rather a
difficult one, and requires the combined action of many muscles. It
is, therefore, to be avoided by persons to whom muscular straining is
likely to be injurious; and the power of effecting this movement is
easily impaired by accident or disease. A long time often elapses even
after a slight bruise of the shoulder, before the person recovers the
power of putting the hand upon the head.
The exercise of raising the arms above the head is a good one for
those in health, and is much, and wisely, recommended by the directors
of gymnastics. It brings many muscles into play, not only those of
the shoulder, but the muscles all round about the chest, viz. those
which pass from the spine and ribs, as well as from the breast-bone,
head, and pelvis, to the shoulder-blade and arm; and, thus, it tends
to strengthen the spine and the chest, as well as the shoulders and
arms. There is, perhaps, no exercise so good as this; and it is much
to be regretted that the dress of young ladies, with its paraphernalia
of stays and shoulder-straps, interferes so greatly with it. The
frequency among them of “pigeon-breast” and “crooked spine” must,
partly, be attributed to the confinement of the arms, caused by the
mode of dress and the customs of life. One of the few opportunities
afforded to the arms of availing themselves of this exercise is in the
dressing-room during the process of brushing the hair. I would by all
means, therefore, recommend young ladies to give sufficient time and
attention to this part of the toilette, and not to delegate it to the
lady’s maid. If, in addition, I suggest that it be commonly done with
open window, I feel sure that I shall have a deservedly great authority
among them--Miss Nightingale--on my side.
[Illustration: Fig. 60. Elbow-joint.]
The movement at the ELBOW is, merely, that of bending and
straightening, in a hinge-like manner; yet there is a slight obliquity
in the direction in which it takes place, an obliquity resembling that
in the movement at the knee (page 39).
_Pronation and Supination of the Hand._
In the FOREARM and HAND there is a movement with which we have
nothing exactly corresponding in the leg. It is called “Pronation
and Supination.” In _pronation_ we turn the palm _down_wards, as in
picking up any substance from a table; in _supination_ we turn the palm
_up_wards, as a boy does when he holds out his hand for a caning, or
for the more agreeable purpose of having a shilling put into it.
PRONATION and SUPINATION take place in the following manner. Each of
the two bones of the forearm extends from the elbow to the wrist (fig.
53); but one of them--the “ulna”--is chiefly connected with the elbow;
and the other--the “radius”--is chiefly connected with the wrist, and,
by means of the wrist, with the hand. The two bones are separate from
one another, except at their ends. There they touch, and are jointed
together in such a manner that the large lower end of the radius can
play round, or partly round, the small, button-like, lower end of the
ulna; and, in so doing, it carries the hand with it. In this movement
the upper end of the radius (A, fig. 60) does not leave its place,
but simply revolves, upon its own axis, on the surface of the arm-bone;
and its edge turns in a notch cut for it in the upper end of the ulna
(B), which remains still.
[Illustration: Fig. 61.
Hand supine.]
[Illustration: Fig. 62.
Hand prone.]
In the drawings (figs. 61 and 62) the relation of the parts in
the supine and in the prone state is shown by the aid of a plumb-line
falling from the part of the arm-bone upon which the upper end of
the radius revolves. The line traverses the upper end of the radius,
then passes along the interval between the two bones, then traverses
the lower end of the ulna, and, finally, takes the course of the ring
finger. And, provided the limb be held vertically, the line traverses
the same parts whatever be the position of the forearm and hand. It
does so in complete supination, as shown in fig. 61; it does so
in complete pronation, as shown in fig. 62; and it does so in
every intermediate position. We may call it, therefore, the axis upon
which the radius and the hand turn in pronation and supination; and,
according to this representation, the ring finger remains stationary
during the movement, while the other fingers and the thumb perform
their partial revolutions around it.
I have said there is no movement in the lower limb exactly like the
pronation and supination of the forearm and hand. We have, it is true,
a power of moving the leg upon the thigh in a somewhat similar manner;
but this can only be done when the knee is bent. For instance, when
sitting in a chair with the foot upon a fender, or with the toes upon
the ground, we can make the foot revolve so as to turn the heel in
or out. A little careful observation, however, will prove that this
movement takes place, altogether, at the knee, and that _both_ bones
of the leg participate equally in it, the _whole_ leg revolving with
the foot. Whereas, in the case of the forearm, the movement takes
place, partly, at the wrist, and, partly, at the elbow; and _one_ bone
(the ulna) remains _still_ while the lower end of the other bone (the
radius) revolves around it. Moreover, the pronation and supination of
the hand and forearm are much more free than these movements of the
foot and leg; and they take place with equal facility and freedom in
any position of the limb. We can turn the palm up or down as easily
when the elbow is straight as when it is bent.
The movement of which I am speaking is so important to the usefulness
of the hand, that I will call your attention to three of the muscles by
which it is effected.
And, let me remark, by the way, that all the movements in the solid
parts of the body--probably all without exception, even the slight
wrinklings of the skin that take place when it is exposed to cold--are
the result of muscular action. Muscles are bundles of fibres which
have usually a red colour and constitute what is commonly called the
“flesh” or “lean meat” of animals. They are endued with the power
of contracting or shortening themselves; and it is this property
which gives rise to the various movements of animal bodies. At their
ends muscles often dwindle into “tendons” or “sinews” which, though
occupying much less space, and having no contractile power, are very
strong, and serve to connect the muscles with the bones.
One of the three muscles just mentioned (A, fig. 61) passes from
a projecting process on the inner side of the arm-bone, at its lower
end, to the outer edge of the middle of the radius. Its contraction
causes the radius to roll over, or in front of, the ulna. It thus
pronates the hand, and is called a “_Pronator_” muscle. Another muscle
(B, fig. 62) passes, from a projecting process on the outer side
of the arm-bone, to the inner edge of the radius near its upper part.
It runs, therefore, in an opposite direction to the former muscle and
produces an opposite effect, rolling the radius and the hand back into
the position of supination. Hence it is called a “_Supinator_” muscle.
[Illustration: Fig. 63. The Biceps Muscle.]
The third is a very powerful muscle. It is called the “_Biceps_”
muscle (fig. 63), because it has _two_ points of attachment to the
shoulder-blade. It descends along the front of the arm, and, bulging
there, forms a conspicuous feature, to which athletic persons are proud
to point in evidence of their muscular development. Its tendon crosses
over the front of the elbow, and is inserted into the hinder edge of a
stout tubercle which is seen on the inner side of the radius near its
upper end. The chief effect of this muscle is to bend the elbow; but it
also rotates the radius so as to supinate the hand; and it gives great
power to that movement. When we turn a screw, or drive a gimlet, or
draw a cork, we always employ the _supinating_ movement of the hand for
the purpose; and all screws, gimlets, and implements of the like kind,
are made to turn in a manner suited to that movement of the right hand,
because mechanicians have observed that we have more power to supinate
the hand than to pronate it, though they are, probably, not aware that
the preponderating influence of the _biceps_ muscle is the cause of the
difference.
The movement of which I am speaking is performed to its full extent
only by Man. Monkeys cannot completely supinate the hand; and in most
of the lower animals the part corresponding with the hand remains
nearly, or quite, fixed in a state of pronation. Even in Man, complete
supination is rather a constrained and awkward position. It is not
a position which is habitual or natural to us. When we see any one
sitting or walking with the palms turned forward it strikes us as
strange, and the idea is suggested to us that the individual must be
strange too, that, possibly, his head may be a little turned as well as
his hands. In a state of ease the hand is naturally more or less prone;
so that when it is desired to place the forearm or hand at rest, as
in case of disease or injury, the prone position is usually selected.
If the forearm be broken, for instance, the surgeon sets the fracture
and fixes the limb with the hand prone or semiprone. This is, also,
the position of greatest strength, as well as of most ease. Hence, in
striking a blow, or carrying a weight, or making any strong muscular
effort, the palm is always kept more or less inturned.
_The Wrist._
[Illustration: Fig. 64. Wrist-joints.]
This drawing (fig. 64) represents what is seen when a section has
been made, from side to side, through the wrist and lower part of the
forearm. It gives an idea of the mode in which the several bones of the
wrist are adapted to one another and held together by ligaments. The
upper three wrist-bones (C, E, D) are joined together, so as to present
a convex surface, which is received into a wide cup, or socket, formed
by the end of the radius (A) and a ligament passing from the radius to
the ulna (B); and, in pronation and supination, the end of the radius,
together with this ligament and the wrist-bones, revolves upon the end
of the ulna.
All the bones here represented are so well fitted to one another, and
so strongly bound together, that, as I have before said, displacement
very rarely occurs among them. We sometimes _hear_ of a dislocation of
the wrist, but very seldom _see_ one. The wrist is often bruised, or
its ligaments strained, by falls upon the hand; or, what very often
happens, especially after the middle period of life, the bones of the
forearm are broken a little above the wrist.
You might think that, in such an accident, the radius only would
suffer, inasmuch as it is especially connected with the wrist-bones,
and so receives the force directly from the hand. But, if you observe
the line of contact of the radius and ulna (running from F), you will
see that it is oblique, and that its direction is such as to cause the
ulna to support the radius, and to receive some of the force from it;
and this disposition, which makes the ulna share the duties of the
radius, makes it, also, share the dangers; hence, it is very frequently
involved with the radius in fracture of the forearm.
By the joints of the wrist we are enabled to move the hand backwards
and forwards, and also slightly sideways.
_The Movements of the Hand._
I come now to speak more particularly of the movements that take
place in the Hand. I have already said that the mobility of the thumb
is the chief characteristic of the hand as distinguished from the
foot. Another important distinction between the hand and the foot is
the greater length and mobility of the fingers as compared with the
toes. The toes are short; and our power of moving them is, under any
circumstances, slight. They constitute a small, and, comparatively,
unimportant, part of the foot. The fingers, on the contrary, are long;
they form a half, and, including the thumb, the more important half,
of the hand. Without them the rest of the hand, indeed the rest of the
limb, would be comparatively useless. Their movements are varied and
free, and take place with singular facility and rapidity. We can bend
them quite down upon the palm, and can extend them beyond the straight
line; we can separate them from one another to a considerable extent;
and we can bring them together with some force, as a waiter does when
he carries a number of wine-glasses between his fingers; and persons
who have lost the thumb contrive to hold a pen, a knife or fork, or
other things, between the fingers.
[Illustration: Fig. 65.
Muscles of forearm and hand.]
Let me endeavour to give you an idea of some of the muscles which are
concerned in executing these movements.
The wrist and hand are bent forwards upon the forearm by means of
three muscles (A, B, C, fig. 65). These all pass downwards from
the inner side of the lower end of the armbone. The outer and inner
ones (A and C) are connected, by tendons, with the wrist-bones; and the
tendon of the middle one (B) runs over the wrist and becomes spread
out in the palm like a fan, so as to support the skin of the palm and
to protect the nerves and blood-vessels, which lie beneath it, from
injurious pressure, when we grasp any substance firmly in the hand. The
fan-like expansion of this tendon in the palm is called the “palmar
fascia.” It is very strong, and is connected, below, with the ends of
the metacarpal bones, and with the sheaths of the fingers. The bundle
of muscles near D forms what is called the “ball of the thumb,” and
serves to move the thumb in various directions.
[Illustration: Fig. 66.
Muscles and tendons of hand.]
Beneath these three muscles which bend the wrist and strengthen the
palm lies another set of muscles (A, B, fig. 66) which bend the
thumb and fingers. They pass from the bones of the forearm, and end in
long tendons or “leaders” which run over the wrist and palm and along
the fingers and are firmly connected with the last phalanges of the
fingers. They lie close to the bones in their whole course, and are
held in their places by sinewy cross bands and sheaths which are seen,
both at the wrist and in the fingers, in fig. 65.
[Illustration: Fig. 67.
Muscles and tendons on back of forearm and hand.]
Fig. 67 represents the muscles on the back of the forearm. The
tendons pass from them, and run, some to the wrist and extend, or bend
backwards, the wrist upon the forearm, some to the thumb and extend the
several joints ofthe thumb; and others run to the back of the fingers. These leaders
lie nearer to the skin than do those on the palmar aspect; and most of
those which go to the thumb and fingers may be distinguished through
the skin. The short muscles (A, A) situated upon and between the
metacarpal bones pass from them to the sides of the fingers; some of
these serve to spread the fingers out from one another, while others
have the effect of drawing them together. There are several such small
muscles on both surfaces of the hand, but I must not detain you by
a description of them; and there are other little muscles passing
from the flexor tendons to the phalanges, which have been called
_fidicinales_, from their assisting in performing the short quick
motions of the fingers, and from their being, accordingly, called into
action in playing upon the violin and other musical instruments.
_Movements of the Thumb._
In its adaptation to the purposes of bearing the weight and
ministering to the locomotion of the body the human foot excels that
of any other animal; and, unquestionably, the human hand is not less
preeminently distinguished by the nicety, the variety, and the freedom
of its movements. This is shown by the manner in which it can be
twisted about, by the exquisite play of the fingers; and it is shown,
above all, by the mode in which the thumb can be moved to and fro, can
be opposed to the other fingers, and to any part of them individually
and collectively, and can be folded beneath them or clasped upon them
as occasion may require.
The power which the thumb possesses, and gives to the hand, is
signified by its name--“pollex,”--derived from the Latin word
_pollere_, which means to have power. Some have supposed that the word
“poltroon” is derived from _pollice truncato_, and signifies one so
cowardly that he has submitted to have his thumb cut off in order that
he may be incapacitated for fighting.
The faculty which we possess of moving the thumb in the way I have
mentioned, athwart the other fingers, and of touching any part of the
palmar surface of either of them depends, partly, upon its being set,
not quite in the same plane with them, but, obliquely, so that when it
is moved towards the palm it faces or opposes the other fingers; and,
partly, upon the nature of the joint between its metacarpal bone and
the bone of the wrist with which it is connected.
This joint is so constructed as to admit of three different movements.
_First_, the thumb can be moved forwards or backwards, that is,
towards, or, away from, the palm. _Secondly_, it can be “adducted” or
“abducted,” that is, approximated to the forefinger or inclined away
from it. _Thirdly_, it can be “circumducted,” that is, its extremity
can be made to describe a circle, as in “twiddling the thumbs.” These
several movements are effected with great power and rapidity by
means of the bundle of muscles which forms the “ball of the thumb”
(fig. 65. D), as well as by the long muscles and tendons which
descend, from the forearm, to the thumb.
_Movements of the metacarpal bones of the Fingers upon the Wrist._
The movements of the thumb, through the medium of its metacarpal bone,
upon the wrist are much more free than those of any of the other
fingers. The middle finger, indeed, has its metacarpal bone set upon
the wrist so fixedly as to admit of scarcely any such movement. The
forefinger can be thus moved a little; the ring finger more and the
little finger still more.
You may easily prove this by taking the knuckles or heads of the
respective metacarpal bones of one hand between the fingers and thumb
of the other hand, when you will find that you can press the knuckle of
the little finger backwards and forwards in a very perceptible manner.
Then try the knuckle of the ring finger; the movement is distinct,
though not so free as in the case of the little finger. The knuckle of
the forefinger you will find to be almost fixed; and in that of the
middle finger you will be unable to perceive any movement at all.
In fact the joints of the metacarpal bones of the fingers with the
wrist resemble those of the outer four toes with the tarsus; and the
drawings of these joints of the foot (figs. 22 to 25) will serve
sufficiently well to illustrate those of the hand.
These movements of the metacarpal, or knuckle, bones upon the wrist
enable us to increase or diminish the hollow of the palm by bringing
its edges more or less forward. Thus, when we make a cup of the hand we
bring forward the metacarpal bones of the thumb and the little finger,
wrinkling the skin of the palm; and when we spread the hand open we
carry those bones backwards, rendering the skin of the palm tense.
These movements, moreover, enable us to bring the little fingers and
the thumb more easily into contact.
Have you ever wondered what advantage is gained by the fingers and
thumb all differing from one another in length; or don’t you take the
trouble to reflect upon little matters of this sort? If you have, I
would ask you now to remark that there is, in the several fingers,
a relation between their shortness, their position near the edge of
the hand, and the amount of mobility of their metacarpal bones upon
the wrist. Thus the finger which is in the middle of the hand is
the longest, and its metacarpal is the most fixed. The fore-finger
is not quite so long; and its metacarpal is rather less immovable.
The ring-finger comes next in shortness and in the mobility of its
metacarpal. Then the little finger; and the thumb which is much shorter
than any other has also its metacarpal much more moveable.
[Illustration: Fig. 68.]
Observe, further, that, when the fingers and thumb are separated from
one another, and then bent, the middle knuckle-bone remains stationary,
but the others are advanced a little forwards, each to an extent
proportionate to its mobility upon the wrist, and to the shortness of
the finger. The fore-finger is, by this means, advanced a little, the
ring and the little fingers more, and the thumb most of all. And the
result is, that the tips of the fingers and the thumb come all to a
level, and form, with the palm, a great hollow in which we can grasp
any substance, a cricket-ball, for instance, and hold it very firmly.
The length of the several fingers and the thumb is, therefore, just so
regulated, in relation to their mobility upon the wrist, as to give us
this power.
You may observe, also, that when the fingers and the thumb are spread
out the space between the thumb and the fore-finger is considerably
greater than either of the spaces between the other fingers. Then, by a
slight movement, the thumb takes up a position in front of, or opposite
to, the fingers; and in grasping any substance it has to antagonise the
pressure exerted by all the fingers. Hence it needs to be much stronger
than they are, and to be wielded by more numerous and more powerful
muscles.
The MIDDLE FINGER is not only the longest and the largest finger; it
is also, to a certain extent, the centre about which the others move.
Thus, when the fingers are bent down into the palm, their tips all
converge towards the middle finger; and when they are spread out, they
all diverge from it. Its greater length and the greater prominence
of its knuckle, expose this finger to injury more than any of the
others; which may account for the fact that Surgeons are called upon
to amputate the middle finger more frequently than either of the other
fingers or the thumb.
The FORE-FINGER has the greatest range of independent movement. Hence
it is used to point with, and is called the “Index” or “Indicator”
finger.
_Writing._
In WRITING the pen should be held between the pulps of the fore and
middle fingers and the thumb, in contact with all three, and firmly
lodged between them. The down-stroke is made by bending the phalanges
of the fingers and the thumb inwards and the metacarpal bone of the
thumb outwards; and the up-stroke is made by straightening all the
joints of the fingers and thumb. The hand rests lightly, not upon its
whole edge, but, upon the hindermost and foremost parts of the edge,
that is, upon the pisiform bone of the wrist and upon the little finger
near the end, so that it can be moved easily along the paper, and can
be inclined, or rolled, a little to either side. The obliquity of the
stroke is not imposed by mere arbitrary rule, but is in accordance with
the direction in which there is the freest movement of the fingers and
thumb when thus holding the pen. Make the experiment for yourselves of
moving the pen in different directions, and you will soon be satisfied
that the writing-master has nature on his side in insisting on a
particular movement as well as a particular mode of holding the pen.
Some persons make the strokes vertical, or slope them the wrong way;
but in either case the writing is stiff and awkward; it is not natural.
The custom of writing from left to right may also be regarded as
correct or natural, inasmuch as we can move the pen more freely
upwards and _out_wards than upwards and _in_wards. Hence the light
_up_ or advancing stroke--that which connects a letter with the one
which follows it--is most easily made _out_wards or to the right;
and the letters are, consequently, made to follow one another in
that direction. To understand this more clearly make a down-stroke
upon paper in the usual manner; you will then find that you can make
up-strokes from any part of it more easily to the right than to the
left; and if you make a series of continuous up-and-down-strokes at
a little distance from one another, the up-stroke is, not merely
habitually, but naturally, made fine and inclined to the right, whereas
the down-stroke is made heavier or thicker and is sloped to the left.
Moreover, you will perceive that the hand slides along the paper more
easily from left to right than from right to left.
It is worthy of remark that the writing of all that great class of
languages called Indo-European, which includes Sanscrit, Greek, Latin,
and many others, with our own, is from left to right; whereas nearly
all the writing of another great class called the Semitic, which
includes the Hebrew and Arabic, is in the opposite direction, viz.
from right to left. Some nations write in perpendicular columns, the
letters being placed under one another, of which the Chinese affords an
example. But either of the two latter methods must be inferior to the
Indo-European style in ease of execution and expedition.
_Reason for the Ring being usually placed upon the Fourth finger._
The RING-FINGER has less independent movement than either of the
others. It cannot be bent or straightened much without being
accompanied by one or both of those next it. This is, partly, because
its extensor tendon is connected, by means of a band of fibres, with
the tendon on either side of it. You may discern these connecting bands
working up and down under the skin of the back of your hand when you
move the fingers to and fro (they are represented in fig. 67).
The ring-finger is, therefore, always, more or less, protected by the
other fingers; and it owes to this circumstance a comparative immunity
from injury, as well, probably, as the privilege of being especially
selected to bear the ring in matrimony. The left hand is chosen for a
similar reason; a ring placed upon it being less likely to be damaged
than it would be upon the right hand.
Other reasons have been given for this preference. It has been
attributed to a notion among the ancients that the ring-finger is
connected with the heart by means of some particular nerve or vessel,
which renders it a more favourable medium than the other fingers for
the reception and transmission of sympathetic impressions; the left
hand being selected, in preference to the right, because it lies rather
nearer to the heart.
[Illustration: Fig. 69. Nerves of hand.]
Some slight foundation for such a notion might be imagined to exist
in the fact (supposing the ancients to have been acquainted with it)
that the distribution of the nerves to the ring-finger is rather
peculiar. The peculiarity will be readily understood by reference
to the accompanying drawing (fig. 69). Two chief nerves are
seen descending, in their course from the brain, along the arm and
forearm, to supply sensation to the palmar surface of the hand. One
(A), the larger of the two, passes in front of the middle of the
wrist, and divides into branches which are distributed to the skin of
the thumb, of the fore and middle fingers, and of the _out_er side
of the ring-finger. The other nerve (B) lies on the _in_ner side of
the forearm and wrist, and its branches go to the skin of the little
finger, and of the inner side of the ring-finger. You see, therefore,
that there is, in this finger, a meeting of the branches of the two
nerves; the two sides of the finger being supplied by different
nerves. It would be a mistake, however, to suppose that it gains
any superiority in sensitiveness or sympathetic relations by this
arrangement; and this distribution of the nerves certainly does not
offer so probable an explanation of the selection of that finger for
the honourable office of ring-bearer as the one I have suggested.
I must remark, here, that the nerve (B), in passing from the arm to
the forearm, lies on the inner side of the back of the elbow, and is
popularly known by the misnomer of the “funny-bone[8].” It lies, pretty
much out of harm’s way, in a well-protected channel between two bones.
Nevertheless, it is now and then hurt; and you know that when the
“funny-bone” is struck, a peculiar pain, or tingling, is experienced
along the little finger and the adjacent side of the ring-finger.
[8] It has been suggested, probably by _Punch_, that it is called the
“_funny-bone_” because it lies near the “_humerus_.”
The practice of wearing rings upon the hand is a very ancient one. In
some instances they were badges of slavery. More generally they were
marks of high esteem or authority; as when “Pharaoh took off his ring
from his hand and put it upon Joseph’s hand,” and when “Ahasuerus took
off his ring, which he had taken from Haman, and gave it to Mordecai.”
The Roman knights also wore rings of gold. Sometimes rings were worn
as charms against diseases; a practice which has been revived in our
own day. They were placed upon any of the fingers, and upon the right
hand as well as the left. Thus we read in Jeremiah, “though Coniah the
son of Jehoiakim king of Judah were the signet upon my right hand.”
The preference of the left hand and of the ring-finger seems to be
comparatively modern, originating, probably, when the ring was made
lighter and more fragile, and was, at the same time, adorned with
precious stones, and when it became, therefore, desirable to place it
upon the part of the hand where it is least exposed to injury.
_The Monkey’s Hand._
Most of you have spent some time in watching the inmates of that
interesting part of a zoological collection, the MONKEYS’ cage, and
have observed how nearly the hand of that animal resembles the human
hand, in the presence of a thumb, in the variety and celerity of its
movements, in the facility with which it can catch and pick up objects
and hold them up to the mouth, and in some other points. A little
closer observation, however, will show that there are some differences
between the two. The several parts do not bear the same relation to one
another in the Monkey’s hand which they do in the human hand; neither
have they quite so great variety or range of movement. The hand is
altogether narrower, and straighter. The thumb is shorter and less
strong, scarcely reaching beyond the knuckle of the fore-finger. The
fingers, on the contrary, are longer and of more uniform length; they
do not admit of being separated so widely from each other in a fan-like
manner; and the metacarpal bones at the edges of the hand, i. e. the
metacarpal bones of the thumb and of the ring and little fingers, have
not the same amount of play upon the wrist. Hence the thumb and the
fingers of the Monkey cannot be opposed to one another so easily as
in man; neither can they be so advanced in front of the middle finger
as to form a hollow or cup, in the way I described when speaking of
the hollow of the palm and the different lengths of the fingers in the
Human hand. When you throw a Monkey a nut he usually picks it up and
holds it between the thumb and the _side_ of the bent fore-finger, not
between the tips of the thumb and fingers. The length of the fingers
adapts the Monkey’s hand well for clasping firmly the branches of
trees, and assisting the animal to climb about in its native forests,
or to hold on to the bars of its cage; and so the part answers the
requirements of the creature better than if these qualities had been
sacrificed to a greater regard for variety and range of movement.
_The Hand the Organ of the Will._
The human hand is peculiarly an organ devoted to the will, being more
directly and completely under its influence than is any other part of
the body. The WILL, remember, is that self-directing faculty which can
be said to exist, definitely and decidedly, in Man alone, which is
associated in him with the responsibility attaching to the selection
between good and evil, and which is given to him to fit him to be
the reasonable servant of his Maker, and upon which, therefore, his
dignity, and his capability for occupying a position between the low
animal and the high spiritual world, so much depend. How appropriate
is it, then, that the will should have a special organ assigned as its
more peculiar minister. It is to the complete subjection of the hand
to the will, no less than to the combination of strength with variety
and delicacy in its movements, that Man is indebted for his dominion
over the rest of the animal world, and for the ability to execute the
wonderful works which his genius designs.
When we reflect how essential is the hand to Man’s well-being, power,
and progress, and upon the infinite variety of purposes which it serves
in obedience to the will, we are not surprised that the construction
of the foot, indeed of every part of the frame, should have reference
to the object of liberating the hand from the subordinate work of
locomotion to a degree which we find in no other animal, and of leaving
it free to execute its higher offices in a ready and efficient manner.
But, after all, notwithstanding the excellence of its mechanism and
its intimate relation to the will, what would the hand be without
the reflecting and designing MIND--the mind that can build upon the
past and prepare for the future, and so carry on the ever-advancing
work of human civilization and progress. Without it Man would remain
stationary, like the other animals; and, as age succeeded age, the
hand would only suffice to provide the necessary requirements of the
body. Nay, even this is saying too much; for without the mind, without,
at least, some higher instinctive or reflective faculty than the
other animals possess, Man would, in reality, be inferior to them. He
would be absolutely unable to maintain his existence, and would be a
miserable victim to the fineness of his organisation. His hand would
fail to supply him with food, or to defend him against his numerous
enemies, or to provide for the protection of his delicate and sensitive
frame from the inclemency of the elements.
The real excellence of the human hand--and the remark applies equally
to the whole human body--consists, not in the admirable construction of
its several parts, nor in their well-adjusted relation to one another,
so much as in the adaptation of the whole to the mind that presides
over it. This it is that renders Man the lord of the creation, that
enables him to subdue all his foes, and gives him, in some measure,
power over the elements, so that land and water, fire and air, are made
to serve his purpose. By this harmonious co-aptation of mind and body
Man is rendered cosmopolitan, being able to thrive in every clime,
from the regions of continual snow to those burning equatorial plains
where even reptiles perish from the heat and drought, and being able to
convert the barren plain into a fertile field, and to draw water out of
the stony rock.
At the late meeting of the British Association at Oxford, a gentleman
related that he had a monkey which was very partial to oysters, and was
very fond of playing with a hammer; but he never could be taught to use
the hammer for the purpose of breaking the oyster-shells to gratify
his appetite. How wide a gulf does the absence of intelligence in this
simple matter indicate between ourselves and the animal that approaches
nearest to us!
_The Hand an Organ of Expression._
Further, we cannot fail to recognise and admire the adaptation of
the hand to the mind at all ages, and under various circumstances;
in its weakness and suppleness, and in its purposeless and playful
movements in infancy and childhood; in its gradually increasing
strength and steadiness as the intellect ripens; in the stiffness and
shakiness of declining years; in the iron grasp of the artizan; in
the light delicate touch of the lady; in the twirlings, fumblings,
and contortions of the idiot; in the stealthy movements of the thief;
in the tremulousness of the drunkard; in the open-handedness of the
liberal man; and in the close-fistedness of the niggard.
Thus the hand becomes an organ of expression and an index of
character. What would the nervous young gentleman in a morning call
give to be quit of these tale-telling members; or what would he do
without a hat or a stick to employ and amuse them? How effective an
auxiliary to the orator is the wave of the hand, or, even, the movement
of a finger. Some men, indeed, seem to owe the efficiency of their
declamations as much to the hand as to the tongue. I have seen a
practised orator (he was a man of the most complete self-possession)
quell an excited audience by one determined movement of his hand. It
happened to me to hear two of the most celebrated preachers of the
day within a short period. In each of them the movements of the hand
were remarkable, though very different. In one, the free, impassioned,
but natural, and, therefore, easy action of the hand showed a deep
and genuine interest in the subject, and helped to waft the fervid
sentiments straight from his own heart to the hearts of his audience.
In the other, who was a no less accomplished speaker, the constrained
and carefully regulated movements of the hands were evidently the
result of forethought and study; they were intended to be impressive,
but were too obviously done for effect; and, therefore, were far less
effective as well as less pleasing.
Our great and venerable orator, as well as high authority on the art
of speaking (Lord Brougham), tells us that the subject of a speech
should be carefully studied, and the sequences well adjusted. He says
that, in the most effective passages, even of practised speakers,
the exact words are usually selected beforehand; but he is silent
respecting the actions by which they should be accompanied. These, at
least, should be unpremeditated; and they will best assist to convey to
others the real feelings and emotions when they are the simple result
of the natural working of the mind upon the body.
The kind of expression that lies in the hand, being much dependent
on the effect of the muscles upon it, is very hard for the artist
to catch, though very important to the excellence of the picture.
Painters, usually, make the hand a subject of careful study, but
rarely succeed in throwing the proper amount, either of animation or
of listlessness, into it. In portraits, especially, the hands are a
difficult part to treat satisfactorily; yet the artist feels that they
are too important not to have a prominent place, and he, commonly,
imposes upon himself the task of representing them both in full. I have
seen them drawn held up in front, like the paws of a kangaroo, in an
otherwise good picture. The stereotyped position in portraits is that
one hand lies upon a table, though it, probably, evinces an uneasiness
there, while the other rests, perhaps equally uneasily, upon the arm of
a chair. Vandyck, in whose paintings the hand usually forms a prominent
feature, is considered to have peculiarly excelled in imparting to it a
sentimental air imbued with deep pathos.
_Shaking Hands._
How much do we learn of a man by his “SHAKE-OF-HAND.” Who would expect
to get a handsome donation, or a donation at all, from one who puts
out two fingers to be shaken and keeps the others bent as upon an
“itching palm”? How different is the impression conveyed by the hand
which is coldly held out to be shaken and slips away again as soon as
decently may be, and the hand which comes boldly and warmly forward and
unwillingly relinquishes its hearty grasp? Sometimes one’s hand finds
itself comfortably enclosed, nursed, as it were, between both hands of
a friend, an elderly friend probably; or it is shaken from side to side
in a peculiar short brisk manner. In either case we are instinctively
convinced that we have to do with a warm and kindly heart. In a
momentary squeeze of the hand how much of the heart often oozes through
the fingers; and who that ever experienced it has forgotten the feeling
conveyed by the eloquent pressure of the hand of a dying friend, when
the tongue has ceased to speak?
Why do we shake hands? It is a very old-fashioned way of indicating
friendship. Jehu said to Jehonadab, “Is thine heart right as my heart
is with thine heart? If it be, give me thine hand.” It is not merely
an old-fashioned custom; it is a strictly _natural_ one, and, as usual
in such cases, we may find a physiological reason, if we will only
take the pains to search for it. The Animals cultivate friendship by
the sense of touch, as well as by the senses of smell, hearing, and
sight; and for this purpose they employ the most sensitive parts of
their bodies. They rub their noses together, or they lick one another
with their tongues. Now, the hand is a part of the human body in which
the sense of touch is highly developed; and, after the manner of the
animals, we not only like to see and hear our friend (we do not usually
smell him, though Isaac, when his eyes were dim, resorted to this sense
as a means of recognition), we, also, touch him, and promote the kindly
feelings by the contact and reciprocal pressure of the sensitive hands.
Observe, too, how this principle is illustrated by another of our
modes of greeting. When we wish to determine whether a substance be
perfectly smooth and are not quite satisfied with the information
conveyed by the fingers, we apply it to the LIPS and rub it gently upon
them. We do so, because we know by experience that the sense of touch
is more acutely developed in the lips than in the hands. Accordingly,
when we wish to reciprocate the warmer feelings we are not content with
the contact of the hands, and we bring the lips into the service. A
SHAKE-OF-HANDS suffices for friendship, in undemonstrative England at
least; but a KISS is the token of a more tender affection.
Possibly it occurs to you that the TONGUE is more sensitive than
either the hands or the lips. You have observed that it will detect an
inequality of surface that escapes them both, and that minute, indeed,
is the flaw in a tooth which eludes its searching touch. You are right.
The sense of touch is more exquisite in the tongue than in any other
part of the body; and to carry out my theory, it may be suggested that
the tongue should be used for the purposes of which we are speaking. It
is so by some of the lower animals. But, in man, this organ has work
enough to do in the cultivation and expression of friendship in its own
peculiar way; and there are obvious objections to the employment of it
in a more direct manner for this purpose.
_The Skin of the Hand._
By the aid of the accompanying drawings you will be able to form some
idea of the structure of the SKIN of the hand.
[Illustration: Fig. 70. Skin.]
One of them (fig. 70) represents a section of the skin, made
perpendicular to the surface, as seen under the microscope. It is from
the end of the thumb, and includes three of those delicate lines, or
ridges that are found there.
The superficial, or uppermost strata (_a_ and _b_), are the “Cuticle”
or “false skin.” The outer layer (_a_) is hard, horny, and dry. It is
composed of numerous fine scales laid upon one another, like the tiles
upon the roof of a house, but adhering more closely together, so as to
form one continuous sheet extending all over the body. The outermost
of these scales are continually being shed, peeling off as scurf, or
being rubbed off; and fresh ones are supplied by the next layer (_b_),
which is a softer material and lies immediately upon the surface of the
“cutis” or “true skin.”
This softer layer (_b_) is often called the “_Rete Mucosum_.” It is
made up of minute bags or bladders, named “cells” by anatomists, which
grow and propagate upon the exterior of the true skin, being nourished
by the blood in the skin. Those which lie nearest the cutis are the
youngest and the softest. Gradually they are pushed outwards by their
successors or offspring; and, as they approach the surface, they become
flatter and drier and more adherent to one another, and are finally
converted into the thin scales of the cuticle. Thus, there is no real
line of division between the cuticle and the rete mucosum; but the
cells of the latter are gradually transformed into the scales of the
former.
The rete mucosum is thicker in the Negro than in the white man, and
contributes somewhat to the softness of his skin. It contains also the
colouring matter in the form of minute black particles diffused among
its cells (fig. 72). These particles disappear, more or less,
as the cells become changed into scales; hence the outer part of the
cuticle of the Negro is not so dark as the rete mucosum, but, as it is
transparent, or nearly so, it allows the dark colour of the rete to
show through it.
Persons commonly speak of the cuticle as if it were the whole thickness
of the skin. Thus, when a blister has drawn, they say the _skin_ is
raised; whereas it is only the _cuticle_. This is forced off from
the skin by the fluid effused into its softer layer--i. e. into the
rete--in consequence of the irritating influence of the blister.
The cuticle has no nerves, and, therefore, no feeling. It may be cut
or torn without pain. The snipping of a blister with the scissors is
not felt, because the cuticle only is touched. It forms a covering
to the whole surface of the body, and is invaluable as a means of
preventing too great evaporation. Without it we should be dried up,
almost mummified, by the end of a summer’s day. It also protects the
delicate sensitive skin underneath. How sore is the knuckle when
the cuticle has been rubbed off! The cuticle has, moreover, the
accommodating property of becoming thickest where it is most wanted, as
on the sole of the foot, and on the palms of the hands of blacksmiths,
and artizans, and persons who handle the oar. And if any other part
of the body be subjected to much friction, for instance, the knees of
housemaids, or the shoulders of men who carry packs, the cuticle soon
becomes thickened there.
Beneath the cuticle lies the “Cutis” or “True Skin” (_c_,
fig. 70, and _c_ and _d_, fig. 71). It is a tough structure
consisting of interlacing fibrous and fine muscular tissue, and
contains the blood-vessels and nerves. The cuticle may be pared off
without any bleeding; but directly the skin is wounded the blood flows.
The cutis does not present an even surface next the cuticle, but shoots
out into a number of little finger-like processes, called “Papillæ,”
which project into the contiguous soft stratum of the cuticle, and are
embedded in it. Thus the superficies of the skin is increased; and
as the blood-vessels and nerves of the cutis are continued into the
papillæ, they contribute very greatly to the sensitiveness of the skin.
They are most numerous in parts where the sensitiveness of the skin
is greatest; for instance, they are more numerous on the palmar, than
on the dorsal, surface of the hand. Near the ends of the fingers and
thumb they are arranged in a linear manner, forming the delicate ridges
that encircle the cones of the pulps. Sections of these ridges are
represented in fig. 70.
[Illustration: Fig. 72.]
[Illustration: Fig. 71. Skin.]
The superficial or papillary part of the cutis is of finer and more
delicate structure than the deeper or fibrous layer, and is, therefore,
sometimes described as a separate layer. It is so represented in the
accompanying figure (71, _c_).
As we are upon the subject of the cuticle and the papillæ, I will
take the opportunity to say a word respecting two diseases of these
structures, in which most of you, probably, have a personal interest. I
mean “Warts” and “Corns.”
[Illustration: Fig. 73. Corn.]
[Illustration: Fig. 74. Wart.]
A WART (fig. 74) depends chiefly on a diseased state of the
papillary stratum of the skin. The papillæ become coarse and grow up
beyond the level of the surrounding skin, so as to present an uneven or
“warty” surface. They carry a layer of cuticle before them. This layer
is usually thin, so that the wart bleeds easily when it is rubbed.
Sometimes, however, it is very thick and hard like a piece of horn.
We, now and then, hear of a horn growing upon some part of the body,
perhaps on the forehead. Such a horn is, usually, nothing more than a
conical mass of cuticle formed upon the surface of a large wart. Warts
are generally caused by something irritating the skin, as dirt or soot
rubbed into the cuticle. For this reason they are more frequent upon
the hands than upon other parts of the body.
In a CORN (fig. 73), also, the papillæ are somewhat enlarged;
and this accounts in part for the great tenderness of corns. But the
primary and essential feature of a corn is a thickened state of the
cuticle. This is caused by too great rapidity in its formation, and
is, usually, dependent upon pressure, especially if the pressure be
combined with some friction. Hence corns are most commonly found upon
the foot, and upon the parts of the foot, where the skin is subject to
pressure and rubbing against the shoe. The drawing shows the appearance
presented by a vertical section through a corn and through a small
portion of the skin on either side. The accumulated layers of cuticle
are seen, and the enlarged papillæ shooting up into them. I need
scarcely add that it is owing to ignorance, or something worse, when
corn-cutters talk of curing the malady by taking out the _roots_; for,
corns, evidently, have no roots.
One word of advice about corn-cutting. Most persons have some
experience in this art, and some opportunity of practising it on
themselves; and many pride themselves on their skill in it. The
usual plan is to shave off layer after layer from the whole surface
of the corn; and this, by lessening the projection of the corn, may
give relief for a few days, though it does not always do that. Soon,
however, the distress returns; and the area of the corn increases
after each operation. Now, I would have you observe that it is at the
_middle_ of the corn that the papillæ are most enlarged; and it is
here that the formation of cuticle goes on most quickly, giving rise
to the little white cone or cones often seen in a corn and sometimes
wrongly called the roots. The proper mode is to confine the cutting to
this part, and to remove as much of the thickened cuticle as you can
from this spot, digging, as it were, a hole in the middle and leaving
the circumference intact. The circumference, which is not usually
tender, thus forms a wall round the excavated centre and defends it
from pressure; and great relief is experienced. Further benefit will
be found from covering the corn with some soft adhesive plaster; and
you may sometimes, with advantage, lightly apply common caustic before
putting on the plaster. If you follow these directions carefully you
may be your own chiropodists, and almost defy your bootmakers.
If, in cutting a corn, you go too deeply, you will wound the tops
of the papillæ and cause some bleeding; this is not however usually
followed by any ill consequences.
_Nails._
Almost all vegetable as well as animal surfaces are covered with some
kind of cuticle. It forms the smooth exterior of a leaf and the rind
of an apple; and the soft down of a moth or a butterfly, the scales of
fish, the feathers and claws of birds, the quills of the porcupine, the
horns of oxen and the hoofs of the horse are examples of modifications
of cuticle. NAILS and HAIR are also of this nature. They are both
continuous with the cuticle, and peel off with it when it is, by any
process, separated from the skin. Both are formed, like the cuticle, of
compressed plates or scales matted together; and these are continually
being shed or rubbed off on the one side, and supplied from the rete
mucosum on the other.
The rete mucosum, it should be stated, extends over the whole surface
of the body. In most situations, as already mentioned, it is the medium
from which the ordinary cuticle is produced; but on the upper part of
the ends of the fingers and toes it is converted into nail, and in the
hair follicles, as I will presently describe, it is transformed into
hair.
[Illustration: Figs. 75, 76, 77. Longitudinal sections of Nail.]
The drawings will help you to understand the relation of the nails to
the cuticle and the cutis. In the upper of the three (fig. 75)
the nail with the cuticle has been detached from the cutis, so that
the continuity of the two, at either end, is shown. In the middle one
(fig. 76) it is represented lying in its bed in the cutis; its
thin hinder edge being received into a furrow made for it in the cutis.
The layer of rete mucosum (_b_) extends behind and beneath it, between
it (_d_) and the cutis (_c_), and continually adds fresh material to
the nail, just as, in other parts, it adds to the substance of the
cuticle. The cuticle, or white line (_a_) is continuous with the nail
at the sides as well as at either end. The lower figure (77) shows the
bed of the cutis in which the nail reposes, the nail as well as the
adjacent cuticle and the rete having been cleared away.
Thus the addition from the rete--in other words the growth of the
nail--takes place at the hinder edge and at the under surface. In
consequence of the addition from _behind_ the nail is increased in
length and is pushed forward; and as it advances forwards it receives
accessions from _beneath_, which increase its thickness and strength.
Unless they be cut, or worn down, the nails grow to an indefinite
length; and, when they extend beyond the tips of the fingers, their
edges are bent in towards each other, and they become curved like
claws. This tendency to a convex form is shown also if the nails be
not properly supported by the pulps of the fingers. For instance, when
persons become emaciated the pulps of the fingers usually participate
in the general wasting and the nails become curved. Hence this shape
of the nails has been regarded as an indication of consumption. You
will understand, however, from what I have said that it is not really
a symptom of any one particular disease. It simply indicates that,
from some cause or other, the nutrition of the body is not properly
maintained.
The Dervishes in some parts of Asia allow the thumb-nail to grow long,
and then pare it to a point, so as to be able to write with it. Dr
Wolff, the Eastern traveller, has told me that he has repeatedly seen
this done, and that he has in his possession manuscripts written in
this way.
[Illustration: Fig. 78. Transverse section of Nail Rete and Cutis.]
Beneath the nail the cutis is disposed in a series of parallel ridges
(fig. 78) with intervening furrows. These take the same direction
as the nail, and, indeed, give rise to the fine lines that you see upon
the surface of the nail. The rete mucosum, or deep soft layer of the
nail, extends into the furrows between the ridges, just as the soft
stratum of the cuticle extends between the papillæ of the cutis. It
thus serves to keep the nail steady in its place, while it permits a
certain amount of movement, and allows the nail to slide forwards upon
the skin under the pressure caused by the growth at its hinder edge.
A little in front of the root of the nail the ridges of the cutis
suddenly become larger and more vascular. This gives a pink hue to
the nail in the greater part of its extent; while the hinder portion,
separated from the front by a crescentic line, is white, in consequence
of the subjacent cutis being there, more pale. You will, at once,
recognise the distinction between these parts by looking at your own
nails.
The ridges and furrows serve, like the papillæ in other parts of the
skin, to increase the surface of the cutis; and, by affording more
space for the distribution of the vessels and nerves, they contribute
to the sensitiveness of the part, and account for the severe pain which
is caused when any foreign body is thrust under the nail. The pulp
in the interior of a tooth, and the frog of a horse’s foot, are also
instances in which an exquisitely sensitive structure is placed beneath
a hard or horny substance. The object, in each case, is the same, viz.
to give the power of taking cognizance of impressions which are made
upon the surface.
_Hairs._
HAIRS may also be regarded as modifications of the cuticle, because,
like the nails, they are continuous with the cuticle, and are formed
from the rete mucosum. Each hair (figs. 79 and 83) is received
into a depression of the cutis, which is called a “follicle,” and which
is lined, as far as the bottom, by cuticle (_a_), and rete mucosum
(_b_). At the bottom of the follicle (_d_) the cuticle is absent, and
the hair rests, directly, upon the rete; and, at this part, the rete,
instead of being converted into cuticle, as it is at the sides of the
follicle, becomes transformed into hair, in the following way.
[Illustration: Fig. 79. Hair.]
[Illustration: Fig. 80.]
[Illustration: Fig. 81.]
[Illustration: Fig. 82.]
The cells of which the rete is composed swell out as they ascend,
and so form the soft “bulb” of the hair. The outermost cells are
gradually flattened, and assume an imbricated arrangement, overlapping
one another like the tiles upon a roof (fig. 79, _e_, and
fig. 80); and those in the interior are elongated, so as to be
converted into more or less distinct fibres. The cells nearest the
middle, or axis, of the hair remain moister and softer than those
nearer the exterior, and form what is sometimes called the “marrow” of
the hair (figs. 81 and 82).
The colour of the hair is given by the presence of minute grains of
colouring matter, like those in the cuticle of the Negro. They are
formed in the cells at the root of the hair, and pass up with them into
its structure. The quantity of colouring matter is usually slight in
infancy and childhood, and increases during adolescence. Hence the hair
becomes darker as we grow up. It is more or less deficient in the grey
hair of old age; and in the instance of Marie Antoinette, and others
whose hair is said to have turned grey in a few hours, the colouring
matter is supposed to have been destroyed by some fluid, formed from
the blood, and passing, through the pulp, into the hair.
The hairs serve to protect the skin; and, as a general rule, they
are most abundant upon the parts which are most exposed, and which,
therefore, stand most in need of such protection. They are scattered
over the back of the hand. On the palmar surface they are not required,
and they would have interfered with the sense of touch; and we do not,
accordingly, find them there, nor upon the sole of the foot, nor upon
the edges of the lips. In certain parts of some animals, however,
they serve as valuable adjuncts to the tactile organs by extending
the range within which the contact of surrounding substances is felt.
Thus the whiskers of the cat are set upon papillæ so sensitive that
the slightest touch upon any part of the hair is felt; and the animal
is thereby assisted in threading its way in the dark. This provision,
added to the mode in which their feet are muffled with soft hair and
their claws are retracted, enables the members of the feline tribe to
steal with almost absolute stillness upon their prey.
_Oil-glands._
[Illustration: Fig. 83. Hair, and Oil-glands.]
There are also in the skin a number of little GLANDS. One set of
these are called “oil-glands;” for their office is to furnish an oily,
or waxy, substance, which serves to keep the skin soft and pliable,
and defends it against too much moisture, or too great dryness of the
atmosphere. They are usually, as shown in the accompanying sketch,
(fig. 83, _g_, _g_) connected with the hairs, lying beside them; and
their ducts--the little tubes that carry off the oily matter formed in
them--open either into the hair follicles, or penetrate the cuticle at
some other part. They are not found on the palms of the hand or the
soles of the feet, because those parts are, in great measure, sheltered
from atmospheric influences, and are well moistened with perspiration.
When the dry easterly winds prevail one is disposed to wish that these
glands were more numerous on the back of the hands; for a more liberal
supply of their secretion would, probably, prevent the disagreeable
chapping to which we are subject at those times. As a substitute we
resort to some unctuous matter, such as glycerine, which if frequently
applied in small quantities performs, to some extent, the part of
the natural secretion in keeping the cuticle soft and supple, and so
preventing its cracking.
The secretion of these glands has an odour, the purpose of which,
in man, is not very obvious. It is faintest in the highest and most
civilized nations. In none is it very agreeable; and persons are
fain to conceal it by substituting some other odour, as that of
lavender or eau-de-cologne. Unfortunately the choice is not always so
refined; and one is, sometimes, disposed to think that the natural
odour must be very bad, if the substitute be preferable. The odour
varies at different parts of the body; it varies also in different
persons, sufficiently to enable the acute nose of the dog to track one
particular man among a thousand.
_Sweat-glands._
To revert to the figure (70) at page 165, the little masses at
_g_, _g_, are grains of fat lying in the meshes of the deeper strata
of the skin, or in the structure just below it. And the little balls
of twisted tube (_f_, _f_) are GLANDS that secrete the PERSPIRATION;
for, the perspiration does not ooze up from the whole surface of the
skin, but has a regular system of factories for its formation. A fine
tube (_h_) is seen passing from each of these “sweat-glands,” as they
are called. It curls in a spiral manner, like a cork-screw, where it
traverses the cuticle to open at the surface. On the palmar aspect of
the hand most of these tubes or ducts open along the tops of the fine
ridges which are there seen; and with a magnifying glass of moderate
power you can distinguish their orifices on the flattened tops of
the ridges on your own fingers. These are the “pores of the skin,”
respecting which we hear so much, and through which the Roman Bath
brings such streams from the subjacent glands.
The sweat-glands are scattered all over the body, but are especially
numerous in the palm and in the sole; and the moisture issuing from
them tends to keep the skin of these parts soft and moist, and so
fitted for the reception of tactile impressions. The quantity of fluid
furnished by them varies a good deal in different persons, and under
different circumstances. In some persons it is habitually slight; and
the hands feel dry and harsh. Or, what is equally disagreeable, it is
superabundant; and the hands are habitually damp, perhaps, cold and
clammy, staining the gloves and soiling everything they touch. In fever
the perspiration is defective; and the dryness and heat of the palm
are often the first symptoms of an accession of fever that attract the
patient’s notice.
We all know that perspiration is usually increased by exercise, or
by the application of warmth to the surface, as by the hot air in
the sudatorium of the Roman Bath; and then, by its evaporation, it
cools and relieves the body, and contributes to our comfort. We know,
too, that it is liable to be increased by any thing that produces a
depressing effect, and that it then induces an uncomfortable sensation,
chilling the surface too much, and making it cold and clammy. Most
of you have experienced the discomfort of the cold sweat caused by
fright; and some of you may have felt the cold, clammy hand of one who
was suffering under the shock of a severe accident or the prostration
caused by the sudden onset of a dangerous malady. Why perspiration
should occur under these very different conditions, producing, at one
time, so much relief, and, at another, so much additional discomfort,
it is not easy to say.
_The sense of Feeling and of Touch in the Hand._
I have mentioned three parts of the body as remarkable for the
acuteness of the sense of touch, namely, the TONGUE, the LIPS, and
the HANDS. Now in each of these the skin is richly supplied with
nerves and blood-vessels; and it is also thick and lies upon a soft
cushiony substance, so as to be yielding and to admit of being applied
accurately over any surface with which it is placed in contact, and of
again resuming its shape when the pressure is removed. For instance,
the tongue is so soft and yielding that, when it is applied to a tooth,
it dips down between the inequalities and coves accurate information of
the condition of the whole surface. The same is the case with the edges
of the lips, though not in so marked a degree as in the tongue; and
each of these parts is indebted for its great sensitiveness very much
to the delicate soft supple nature of its structure. The palmar surface
of the hand too, though, like the skin of the sole, it is strong and
tough, so as to offer considerable resistance to injury and to prove
no dainty morsel even to dogs, as we surmise from the narrative of the
death of Jezebel, is yet very soft and yielding. It is also underlaid
by a stratum of fat interwoven with strong fibres of tissue, just in
the same manner as the skin of the sole of the foot (fig. 46,
p. 99).
An accumulation of this fat and fibrous tissue under the skin forms
the “Pulps” at the ends of the fingers. The slightly conical form and
exquisite softness of the Pulps adapts them well for the examination of
the surfaces of bodies; and the sense of touch is more acute in them
than in other parts of the hand.
[Illustration: Fig. 84. Bones of Finger.]
In connection with them it is interesting to observe that the last
bone of each finger and of the thumb swells out, at the end, into a
nodulated lump, which serves the purpose both of supporting the pulp
and of giving breadth to the nail. It also, like the corresponding part
of the toe (page 99), affords a basis of attachment for the fibres
that run, from the bone, through the pad of fat, to the skin, and give
firmness and consistence to the part. The bulbous enlargement at the
ends of the phalanges of the fingers and toes is peculiar, or almost
peculiar, to man. In most Animals these bones taper to a point; in
many they are also curved. Hence the nails are, in them, comparatively
unsupported, and they become bent in at the sides and curved in their
length, that is to say, they are formed into claws. This is the case,
to a considerable extent, in the Monkey. The terminal phalanges of
the monkey’s digits are more tapering than in man; the nails are more
claw-like; and the pulps are less well-formed. This constitutes a not
unimportant feature of difference between the hand of that animal and
the human hand, in addition to those I have already mentioned.
You have experienced the sensitiveness to cold of the pulps of
the fingers and toes; and have, probably, remarked that it is more
difficult to keep them warm than any part of the body. I may add that,
notwithstanding the liberal allowance of the means of supporting life
(that is, blood and nervous influence) which they enjoy, they are very
liable to mortify from frost-bite and other causes. I have repeatedly
known that to happen when all the rest of the hand has escaped. This
must be attributed, perhaps entirely, to their exposed position as
terminal parts; and they share their susceptibility to cold with other
parts similarly circumstanced, such as the nose, the elbows, the knees
and the buttocks.
It is necessary to make a distinction between the SENSE OF TOUCH and
common FEELING or sensitiveness to pain; for they are not quite the
same. They are, it is true, very nearly alike, so nearly that we may
consider them to be modifications of one another; and it is probable
that the same nerves minister to both. Still there is a difference.
The sense of touch is the sense of contact with _ex_ternal bodies, and
enables us to take cognisance of their presence and inform ourselves of
their shape, consistence, smoothness or roughness, &c.; whereas common
sensation, or the sense of feeling, has an _in_ternal relation. It
imparts to us information respecting the condition of our own bodies or
any part of them. By the sense of touch in the tongue, for instance,
we judge of the size and hardness of the morsel in the mouth; and by
common sensation we learn that the organ is being bruised or scratched
by it. Sensation of pain commonly destroys the sense of touch. Put your
finger into a vice, and you may feel both sides of it. Screw it up, and
you have nothing but the sensation of pain. If you were to awake in
this state you would not, from the mere sensation, know that you were
_touching_ anything.
As a general rule there is a relation between the degree in which
sensation and the sense of touch are manifested in different parts of
the body. For instance, I have just been remarking on the acuteness of
the sense of touch in the Tongue; and we know that this part is very
sensitive to pain. The pain caused by a bite of the tongue is horrible;
and so effectually does it serve the good end of warning the tongue to
keep within its proper bounds, that that organ very rarely suffers from
the pressure of the teeth.
But, forasmuch as sensitiveness to pain serves a different purpose
from the sense of touch, namely, as in the instance of the tongue just
mentioned, it renders parts alive to injurious impressions, and gives
them warning to escape or protect themselves; so it is, as we might
expect, most manifested in those surfaces where a slight amount of
injury would prove most detrimental.
Thus, the membrane (the conjunctiva) which lines the eyelids and
covers the front of the eyeball is exquisitely sensitive to pain. We
are reminded of this when anything touches the eye, or when a fly
has lodged itself under the eyelid. And, when an operator wishes to
ascertain whether his patient is sufficiently under the influence of
chloroform he separates the eyelids and puts his finger gently upon
the eye, knowing that if no indication be given, by flinching, that
the impression made here is felt, it is probable that the patient will
not be conscious of the more severe impression to be made by the knife
elsewhere. Yet, this membrane is by no means pre-eminently endued with
the sense of touch. Indeed, the very acuteness of its sensitiveness to
pain quite unfits it for distinguishing the quality of the impressions
made upon it. We know very quickly that something is in contact with
the eye, but can form no idea what kind of substance it is, whether it
be hard or soft, rough or smooth.
In the hand, on the contrary, the sensitiveness to pain, though
considerable, is not proportionate to the acuteness of the sense of
touch. The sting of the rod on the palm, if my recollection serves me
right, is not so sharply felt as it is upon that other region which
shares with the hand the privilege of receiving the wrathful attentions
of the master; and, yet, that other region is by no means distinguished
for acuteness in the sense of touch.
The mode in which sensitiveness to touch and to pain are adjusted
in the hand and in the eye in relation to the functions of these two
organs is one of the admirable features of their construction. Suppose
the disposition to have been reversed--suppose the hand to have been
as tender as the eye--of what use would it have been? The contact of
a particle of dust would have caused agony; or, had the eye been no
more sentient than the hand, it would soon have been destroyed by the
chafing of foreign bodies upon its delicate surface.
How important is the sense of Feeling! more important than any of
the other senses; more so than all the others taken together. It
is almost universal in the animal kingdom. Indeed, we can scarcely
conceive animal existence without it, and are slow to admit that to be
an animal which shows no sign of it. Several of the lower animals seem
to be destitute of any of the other senses. The POLYPS, for instance,
have no sight, hearing, taste, or smell, and are dependent, therefore,
entirely, upon feeling for their communication with the external world;
and the range of this sense is extended in them by means of their
“tentacles” or “feelers” which wave about in the water, and, when they
come in contact with foreign bodies, close upon them and draw them
towards the oral opening. Thus, the tentacle of the polyp is a sort of
rudimentary hand, and, by the aid of feeling, fulfils one important
function of the hand, viz. that of the supplying the mouth with food.
The sprawling movements of an infant’s hands and the tendency which
they have to close upon anything--dress, blanket, or whatever it
be--and draw it to the mouth remind one forcibly of the feelers of a
polyp.
In most of the lower animals, however, the sense of feeling, though
present, serving for protection and giving notice of injury, is
not very acute. It is not much employed by them for the purpose of
obtaining information respecting external objects; and they can
scarcely be said to enjoy that modification of it which we call the
sense of touch in any high degree. Indeed, the skins of animals have,
commonly, such a covering of thick, horny cuticle, scales, feathers, or
hair, as is incompatible with a fine discriminating sense of touch.
In many of them, however, some other sense is highly developed. The
VULTURE is guided by the smell of carrion for miles and miles; and
the dog will, by the same sense, track game where man cannot detect
the trace of an odour. Some birds can distinguish objects which are
quite out of the range of our sight. The EAGLE, for instance, soars
aloft, till it dwindles to a mere speck or is lost to our view, and,
then, from that great height, will pounce, with unerring certainty,
on an unhappy grouse upon the ground. The sense of hearing is a great
means of protection to animals, and necessitates extreme stillness and
caution on the part of their pursuers. The DEER, when feeding, directs
his eyes upon the ground, and depends for safety, chiefly, upon his
hearing, which is so acute that the huntsman is obliged to approach
with all possible wariness.
In each of these instances, it may be observed, the acuteness of the
particular sense is manifested chiefly in the power it gives to the
animal of distinguishing objects _at a distance_. Whereas, in the
ability to use the several senses for the nice discernment of the
_qualities_ of substances and to derive enjoyment from them, man stands
quite unrivalled. He alone appreciates the perfume of a bouquet, or
takes cognisance of the various shades of colour and of the notes of
music; and the sense of touch, which is of especial service in aiding
us to an accurate knowledge of bodies, is much more highly developed in
man than in other animals.
Fine as the sense of touch usually is in the human hand, it becomes
far more so when an unusual demand is made upon it in consequence of a
deficiency, or absence, of other senses. The rapidity with which blind
persons can read with their fingers is truly astonishing. Some are
said to be able to distinguish colours by the feel. (It should rather
be said that they are capable of recognising the nice differences in
certain substances by which colours are caused; for one can scarcely
conceive it possible to distinguish by feeling the colours in a ray of
light separated by a prism.) I am acquainted with a lady who has been,
not only blind, but deaf and dumb from infancy. The sense of touch is,
therefore, almost her only avenue for impressions from without; and
it is surprising how much information is conveyed through it, and how
quickly. It enables her to hold converse with her relatives, by the
language of the fingers, almost as freely and as briskly as others do
with the tongue. A few touches are sufficient to transmit a series of
thoughts. After one shake of the hand her friends told me that she
would recognise me again; and, true enough, although several days
elapsed before I again saw her, she made the sign for my name as soon
as she touched my hand. At our next meeting I presented my left hand,
but was, again, immediately recognised.
Persons who have had much experience in the instruction of the deaf
and dumb find that the hand, by means of writing and “dactylogy”, or
the language of finger-signs, is abundantly sufficient for all the
intercourse to which a deaf-mute is equal; and they are, therefore,
disposed to discourage the teaching of articulation. Dr Kitto, in his
little book “On the Lost Senses,” which acquires so much interest
from the fact of his being himself deaf and dumb in consequence of an
accident, relates that, after he had, with great difficulty, reacquired
considerable facility of speech, he found it stood him in little stead.
So efficient a means of intercourse had the hand become that, he tells
us, he had not occasion for the use of his tongue ten times in a year.
Not only may the hand thus serve, to some extent, as a substitute
for some of the other senses; it is also a most important auxiliary
to them. Particularly is it so to the sense of sight, by proving, or
correcting, the impressions which we receive through the eye. Without
its aid we should often fail to distinguish between a real object and
a picture or a reflection in a mirror, and should have difficulty in
judging of size, shape, distance, &c.
_Relation of the Hand to the Eye and the Mouth._
You cannot have watched a game of cricket without being struck by the
manner in which the hand acts in harmony with the eye. With what almost
lightning-like rapidity it is in the exact place to catch the ball;
and with what precision the practised cricketer can throw the ball to
a great distance. In this, however, he is surpassed by the wonderful
skill with which the Indian throws the lasso. Again, it is enough for
the sportsman merely to get sight of the bird; he is scarcely conscious
of the process by which the hand directs the gun and pulls the trigger
at the exact moment. Still more remarkable is the successful aim when
taken, as it occasionally is, without bringing the gun to the shoulder.
In estimating the importance of the hand, you must not forget that
the mouth is quite dependent upon it for supplies. In most other
animals the jaws are prolonged, forwards, from the cranium, and the
head is placed in such a position that the mouth becomes an organ of
prehension, and is enabled to provide for itself. But, in man, the head
is carried so high above the ground, and the jaws are so shortened and
compressed beneath the forehead, that the mouth is of little use in
obtaining food. Its abilities and duties are restricted to receiving,
masticating, and swallowing; and, if it had to rely upon its own
efforts for supplies of food, it would, indeed, be in a poor case. When
we look at one of the Sphinxes from Egypt, or at one of the stately
Bulls from Nineveh, in which wisdom and power are represented by
joining a human head to the trunk and limbs of an animal, the question
suggests itself, “How is that mouth to be fed?” In the Centaur and
Mermaid this difficulty is overcome by adding the hands, as well as
the human head, to the trunk and locomotory organs of the horse in the
one instance, and the fish in the other; so that monstrosity does not
preclude the means of sustentation. Sufficient incongruities, however,
still remain to justify the exclamation
“Spectatum admissi risum teneatis amici?”
In the ELEPHANT the mouth is circumstanced, somewhat, as in man; and
the office of feeder is performed by the elongated snout or proboscis.
This organ, with its finger-like extremity, is so sensitive and mobile
as to be able to pick up small bodies--pins or needles--from the
ground, and so strong as to pull down large branches of trees, and
gather the fruit from them. It is interesting, in connection with the
relation of the hand to the will and the intellectual endowments, to
remark that this proboscidean substitute, which fulfils so many of the
purposes of the hand, is furnished to the “half reasoning” elephant.
The natural sagacity and teachableness of this creature, of which such
interesting evidence is given in Sir Emerson Tennent’s book on Ceylon,
seem to render it quite worthy of the privilege of having an especial
organ provided to minister to its will.
_Cheiromancy._
The BEAUTY of the hand does not come in for quite so great a share
of admiration as that of the foot. Perhaps, because we are less
often gratified with the view of the latter. Perhaps, because we are
conscious that the foot is even more decidedly characteristic of
the human form than is the hand; inasmuch as the hand of the monkey
approaches more nearly to the human hand than does the foot of any
animal to the human foot. Still, we are by no means insensible to the
charms of a pretty hand; and we prefer that the glove which envelopes
it should be of a material as thin and pliable as kid, so that it
may adapt itself accurately to the part, and not conceal its form.
A small and delicate hand is thought to be one of the best signs of
high-breeding. Thus, Byron, who was no bad judge of such matters, writes
“Even to the delicacy of her hand
There was resemblance such as true blood bears,”
and again,
“Though on more thorough-bred or fairer fingers
No lips ere left their transitory trace.”
The LINES upon the palm, or creases formed in closing the hand, differ
a little in different persons. In former times, when men were addicted
to the arts of divination, and thought more about the connection
between the physical world and the world of spirits, and strove, by
a close observation of the former, to penetrate the mysteries of the
latter, much attention was paid to these lines. They were named with
the names of the Planets and the signs of the Zodiac; and a science
grew up akin to Astrology and Physiognomy. CHEIROMANCY was the name
given to it; and numerous and voluminous treatises were written upon
it. We are told that Homer was the author of a complete essay upon the
lines of the hand. That something of the kind was practised among the
Romans we learn from a passage in Juvenal, translated, somewhat freely,
by Dryden, as follows:
“The middle sort, who have not much to spare,
To cheiromancer’s cheaper art repair,
Who claps the pretty palm to make the lines more fair.”
You will estimate the value of the science of CHEIROMANCY when you
hear that equal furrows upon the lower joint of the thumb argue riches
and possessions; but a line surrounding the middle joint portends
hanging. The nails, also, came in for their share of attention: and
we are informed that, when short, they imply goodness; when long and
narrow, steadiness but dulness; when curved, rapacity. Black spots upon
them are unlucky; white are fortunate. Even at the present day Gipsies
practise the art when they can find sufficient credulity to encourage
them.
Whether any fancy of the like kind gave origin to the notion still
prevalent that a wound or injury between the thumb and the fore-finger
is peculiarly likely to be followed by LOCK-JAW, or whether the notion
was grounded on some notable instance in which that fearful malady did
actually supervene upon a wound in the situation mentioned, I cannot
tell. You may, however, rest assured, that it is quite a fallacy.
Lock-jaw may result from a wound in any part of the body, or it may
occur without a wound; it is very capricious in its attack; the surgeon
does not know when to look for it; it often shows itself when he least
expects it; but it is not more likely to follow a wound between the
thumb and the fore-finger than a wound elsewhere. I think it well to
mention this, because I have often known persons greatly alarmed when
they have accidentally cut themselves in the dreaded spot.
_Cause of the preferential use of the Right Hand._
Why is man usually RIGHT-HANDED? Many attempts have been
made to answer this question; but it has never been done quite
satisfactorily; and I do not think that a clear and distinct
explanation of the fact can be given.
There is no anatomical reason for it with which we are acquainted. The
only peculiarity that we can discern is a slight difference in the
disposition, within the chest, between the blood-vessels which supply
the right and the left arms. This, however, is quite insufficient to
account for the disparity between the two limbs. Moreover, the same
disposition is observed in left-handed persons, and in some of the
lower animals; and in none of the latter is there that difference
between the two limbs which is so general among men.
Is the superiority of the right hand real and natural, that is,
congenital? or is it merely acquired? I incline much to the latter
view; because all men are not right-handed; some are left-handed; some
are ambidextrous; and in all persons, I believe, the left hand may be
trained to as great expertness and strength as the right[9]. It is so
in those who have been deprived of their right hand in early life; and
most persons can do certain things with the left hand better than with
the right.
[9] In the tribe of Benjamin “there were seven hundred chosen men
left-handed; every one could sling stones at an hair breadth, and
not miss.” Judges xx. 16. When David was at Ziklag there came to him
a company of men who “were armed with bows and could use both the
right hand and the left in hurling stones and shooting arrows out of
a bow.” 1 Chronicles xii. 2.
Nevertheless, though I think the superiority of the right hand is
acquired and is a result of its more frequent use, the tendency to use
it, in preference to the left, is so universal that it would seem to
be natural. I am driven, therefore, to the rather nice distinction,
that, though the superiority is acquired, the tendency to acquire the
superiority is natural.
It may be argued that the tendency must be based upon something
physical, and that, therefore, a tendency to superiority implies an
actual superiority. This may be so; but I do not think that we are
quite in a position to assert that it is so. We perceive that there is
a tendency to the preferential use of the right hand; but we do not
know upon what that tendency depends, and have, therefore no right to
assert that the cause of it lies in the construction of the limb or of
the parts which supply the limb with blood and nervous influence, or,
indeed, upon any strictly physical cause whatever.
It may be a tendency like that of certain animals to make their holes
and nests in particular places and in particular ways, to watch for
their prey at particular spots, to migrate in certain directions at
particular periods, and to group themselves in a particular order
during their travels. Such tendencies, or “Instincts” as they are often
called, may possibly be the result of a peculiar conformation of the
several animals; but it is, at present, by no means certain that they
are so.
I have said that man is the only animal in whom a preference in the
use of the limb or limbs of one side is shown. This is a consequence of
the fact that he is the only animal who has occasion to use the limbs
of the two sides separately, or who is in the habit of doing so. Even
in the rudest state of society this habit is engendered in him from a
very early period, as in carrying a stick, throwing a spear, and in
a variety of ways. The habit increases as he becomes more civilized,
owing to the greater number of offices which the hands are called upon
to perform; and the necessity for using the hands separately would, of
itself, lead each individual to the employment of one more frequently
than the other; but that that one should so universally be the right
hand, seems to be accounted for only by reference to some natural
tendency. The imitative propensity in man and the convenience of
uniformity of modes of action are scarcely sufficient to account for it.
I will not detain you by dwelling upon the effect which the
superiority of the right hand has in giving a slight superiority to the
right leg and the right eye, and will content myself with mentioning
a single beneficial result of the preferential use of one hand, viz.
that by it, we acquire a greater degree of skilfulness and dexterity
than we should do if both hands were equally employed. The exclusive
use, for instance, of the right hand in writing, cutting, &c. gives it
a greater expertness than either hand would have had if both of them
had been accustomed to perform these offices. Hence, we usually find
that persons who are left-handed are rather clumsy-fingered, because,
although, in them, the left hand is used for many purposes which are
commonly assigned to the right, yet the conventionalities of life
interfere a good deal. The pen and the knife, for instance, are still
wielded by the right hand. Accordingly such persons are neither truly
right-handed nor truly left-handed; and they do not commonly acquire
so great skill in the use of either hand as do those whose natural
tendency is more in harmony with custom.
* * * * *
The great martyr of our Church, when at the stake, is said to
have held out his right hand into the flames and to have been heard
exclaiming, till utterance was stifled, “This unworthy hand.” This
unworthy hand! Of whom or of what was that hand unworthy? Was it
unworthy of Him who made it? Was it unworthy of him who bore it? Was
it unworthy of the purposes for which it was made? Was it not, on the
contrary, a too worthy hand? a hand worthy of a better usage than to
be made, first, to sign a recantation of faith and, then, to be burned
for having done so? a hand worthy of a better man? No one would have
admitted this more readily than Cranmer. We may be sure that he would
never have thought of proclaiming a hand or any of his members to
be really unworthy of him. Rather would he have willingly confessed
that he had fallen far short of the standard of excellence which the
body presents; and in that excellence, we doubt not, he recognised
an evidence of Divine workmanship. His meaning, therefore, has not
been misunderstood. Nevertheless disparaging remarks respecting the
body, and the use of the word “carnal” in the sense in which it is
usually employed, have some tendency to excuse a shrinking from moral
responsibilities on the ground of the weakness of the flesh. Let us
remember that much of that weakness is of our own engendering, that a
moral obliquity is the source of many of those physical infirmities
which, we flatter ourselves, may cover our delinquencies, and which a
sympathising humanity is wont, perhaps too often, to throw as a shield
over offenders against the laws. In man, and in man alone of created
beings, the physical and the moral grow up together and react upon one
another; and the charge of a body thus capable of influencing and being
influenced demands all our energies to prove ourselves worthy of it.
EXPLANATION OF WOOD-CUTS.
THE HUMAN FOOT.
Fig. page
1 9 Bones of foot, with the lower ends of the two
leg-bones.
2 11 Bones of the hind foot of a seal, with lower ends
of leg-bones.
3 11 The same of the hind foot of a lizard.
4 14 Side view of the pelvis and lower limb of man.
A, the _haunch-bone_. B, the _ischium_, or part upon
which we sit. C, the _thigh-bone_. D, the _knee-pan_.
E, the _tibia_, or larger leg-bone, with the
_fibula_, or smaller leg-bone, alongside it. F, the
_heel-bone_. G, the _metatarsal_ bones. H, I, K, the
_phalanges_, or bones of the toes.
5 14 Similar view of the pelvis and hind limb of a horse.
The letters refer to the same parts as in the preceding
figure.
6 18 Represents a section through the lower end of the
tibia and through the _heel-bone_, the _astragalus_,
_navicular_ bone, inner _cuneiform_ bone, and the bones
of the _great toe_. It shows the arrangement of
these bones in the arch of the foot and the disposition
of the plates of which these bones are composed.
7 25 The same bones as in preceding, with two connecting
ligaments. A, the _plantar ligament_. B, ligament
passing from the heel-bone F to the scaphoid bone
E. D the _Astragalus_. C, one of two small bones,
called _sesamoid_ bones, usually found at the ball of
the great toe.
8 29 A foot, in an aggravated condition of “flat-foot.”
The sole is convex, and so is the inner margin
of the foot. It represents also another common
deformity, inasmuch as the great toe runs athwart
the second toe, which is pressed almost out of
sight.
9 38 Front view of the right _tibia_, or larger leg-bone.
10 38 Right _tibia_ lying on a board. The inner, as well
as the outer edge, of the upper end rests upon the
board; but the inner edge of the lower end is
turned away from the board. In other words, the
bone is so twisted that, though the upper end
lies flat upon the board, the lower end touches
it only by its outer edge.
11 40 Figure sitting upon the heel to draw the bow. It is
one of a beautiful series of statues in the Glyptothek
at Munich. They adorned the pediments
of a temple in Ægina, and are supposed to represent
the noble actions of the Æacidæ.
12 42 Represents some of the muscles and tendons seen
on the inner side of the leg and foot. A, _Gastro-
cnemius_ and _Soleus_ muscles. They are attached,
above, to the thigh-bone and the leg-bones; below,
by means of the _Tendo Achillis_ (_a_) to the heel-bone;
they together form the calf-muscle. B,
_Posterior tibial_ muscle attached, above, to the
tibia, below, by its tendon (_b_) to the scaphoid
bone. D, process of the tibia called the _internal
malleolus_ or inner ankle. F, _Anterior tibial_ muscle
attached, above, to the front of the tibia, below,
to the scaphoid bone. _k_, the _flexor tendon_ of the
great toe.
13 44 Gives a corresponding view of the outer side of the
leg and foot. E, the lower end of the fibula,
called the _external malleolus_, or outer ankle. C,
the _short fibular_ muscle attached, above, to the
fibula; below, by its tendon (_c_), to the outer
metatarsal bone. I, the _long fibular_ muscle. Its
tendon (_i_) runs, behind the outer ankle and under
the instep, to the metatarsal bone of the great
toe; it is not seen in the latter part of its course.
G, the _anterior fibular_ muscle attached by its tendon
_g_ to the outer metatarsal bone. _h_, the _extensor
tendons_ of the toes.
14 47 Foot of a young woman presenting the variety of
“club-foot” called “_Talipes varus_.” The sole is
very much bent, and turned inwards and upwards,
so that the part of the instep which should be above
and in front is directed downwards and comes into
contact with the ground.
15 49 Diagram (from Bell’s _Anatomy_) showing the mode
in which the extensor tendons of the toes follow
the curve of the ankle and are bound to it by
cross straps, instead of taking the direct course
represented by the line _a_.
16 52 Foot and leg from the cast of the Farnese Hercules
in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge.
17 52 Foot and leg of a Negro.
18 52 Outline of under surface of foot of an Englishman.
19 52 Outline of under surface of foot of a Negro.
20 55 Skeleton of the foot of a Chinese female. From a
drawing by B. Cooper, in _Phil. Trans._
21–25 57 Sections, from above downwards, through the tarso-metatarsal
joints. A, _metatarsal_ bone. B, _tarsal_
bone. C, C, the _ligaments_ connecting the two.
26–29 59 Figures standing, bowing, stooping, and squatting.
30–32 60 Figures walking.
33–35 62 Position of foot in three stages of a step in walking.
36–38 65 Figures running.
39 86 Bones of the left hind limb of an Elephant.
40 86 Bones of the left hind limb of a Hippopotamus.
41 86 Bones of the left hind limb of a Rhinoceros.
42 86 Bones of the left hind limb of an Ox.
43 86 Bones of the left hind limb of a Horse.
44 89 Hind limb of a Gorilla, showing the length of the
digits, and the strong inner digit diverging from
the others.
45 90 Drawing of stuffed specimen of a Gorilla in the
British Museum.
46 98 Section of a foot, showing the disposition of the fibres
that run from the bones and plantar ligament to
the skin of the sole. At the heel the greater number
of the fibres are seen to run _back_wards from
the heel-bone to the skin. At the end of the
great toe and beneath the ball of the toe they run,
for the most part, _for_wards, from the bones and
plantar ligament, to the skin.
47 103 View of the sole of a foot in its natural state.
48 103 Outline of the sole of a shoe, as commonly made for
a man’s foot.
49 103 Sole of the foot of a girl twenty-two years old, distorted
by the pressure of the shoe, but otherwise
healthy.
50 103 View of the skeleton of a foot so deformed, from
above.
51 105 The proper sole for a shoe laid, for the sake of
comparison, on the symmetrical sole of the ordinary
shape.
52 105 The proper sole pointed at the toes.
THE HUMAN HAND.
Fig. page
53 110 The bones of the arm (_humerus_), of the forearm
(_radius_ and _ulna_, the former is the upper of the
two, the forearm and hand being semi-prone), and
of the hand. The names of the wrist-bones are,
_scaphoid_, _semilunar_ (these two are in contact with
the radius), _cuneiform_ (this is in a line with the
ulna, but separated from it by an interval in
which lies the triangular ligament, see fig. 64,
page 134), _pisiform_ (faintly seen in shadow beneath
the cuneiform), _trapezium_ (supporting the
metacarpal bone of thumb), _trapezoid_ (supporting
the metacarpal bone of fore-finger), _magnum_ (supporting
the metacarpal bone of the middle or
great finger), _unciform_ (supporting the metacarpal
bones of the ring and the little fingers).
54 112 Diagram of the bones of the hand with the ends of
the radius and ulna. 1, end of _radius_; 2, end of
_ulna_; 3, _scaphoid_; 4, _semilunar_; 5, _cuneiform_;
6, _pisiform_; 7, _trapezium_; 8, _trapezoid_; 9, _magnum_;
10, _unciform_; 11, 11, _metacarpal_ bones;
12, 12, first row of _phalanges_; 13, 13, second
row of _phalanges_; 14, 14, third row of _phalanges_;
I, thumb; II, forefinger; III, middle finger; IV,
ring finger; V, little finger.
55 116 Drawing of the front of the chest and the shoulders,
with the collar-bones running across from the
upper edge of the breast-bone to the projecting
processes of the shoulder-blades.
56 117 The chest and shoulder of an Eagle. A, A, the united
_collar-bones_, or “merry-thought;” B, the _coracoid_,
or “side-bone;” C, the long, slender _shoulder-blade_;
D, the _sternum_; E, the _humerus_.
57 120 The head, fore part of chest, and shoulder of a
Rhinoceros. The chest is deep and flat at the
sides. The shoulder-blade and arm-bone are
nearly vertical, that is, they nearly correspond
with the ribs in their direction.
58 122 Side view of chest, shoulder and arm (human). The
shoulder-blade is prolonged in the direction of the
spine, that is, _across_ the ribs.
59 124 Side view of fore part of a Monkey’s skeleton.
60 126 A section, from side to side, through the Elbow-joint,
showing the shape of the surfaces of the
bones. A, the _radius_; B, the _ulna_; CC, the side
_ligaments_ holding the radius and ulna to the _arm-bone_,
D.
61 127 The upper limb with the forearm and hand in the
state of supination. A, the _long Pronator_ muscle.
62 127 The same in a state of pronation. B, the _short
Supinator_ muscle.
In this and the preceding drawing a plumb-line,
descending from the outer condyle of the humerus
traverses the lower end of the ulna and the ring
finger.
63 131 Drawing of the _biceps_ muscle. The hand is in a
state of pronation. Driving the gimlet is effected
by the movement to the state of supination.
64 134 Section, from side to side, through the Wrist, showing
the shapes of the bones and the mode in
which they are adapted to one another. A, the
_radius_; B, the _ulna_; C, _scaphoid_ bone; D, _cuneiform_
bone; E, _semi-lunar_ bone; F, line of contact
of radius and ulna; G, G, side _ligaments_
connecting the wrist-bones with the bones of the
forearm. H, I, K, L, M, _metacarpal_ bones of thumb
and fingers.
65 138 View of the superficial muscles on the palmar
aspect of the forearm and hand. A, the _radial
flexor_ of the wrist. B, the _long palmar_ muscle.
C, the _ulnar flexor_ of the wrist. D, the muscles
of the “ball of the thumb.” E, the _long supinator_
muscle. F, the _long pronator_. G, the
lower part of the _biceps_ muscle. H, Cross _ligaments_
binding the tendons in their places. (This
and the two following figures are from Quain’s
_Anatomy_.)
66 138 View of the deep muscles and tendons on the
palmar aspects of the forearm and hand. A, the
_long flexor_ of the thumb. B, some of the _flexors_
of the fingers. C, the _Adductor_ muscle of the
thumb.
67 139 The _extensor_ muscles and tendons of the wrist,
thumb, and fingers seen on the back of the
forearm and hand. A, A, A, the _abductors_ and
_adductors_ of the fingers. B, B, the cross _ligament_
which binds the tendons in their places.
68 146 Hand holding a cricket-ball, showing that the tips
of the fingers and the thumb all reach the same
level.
69 152 Diagram showing the distribution of the _median_ (A)
and _ulnar_ (B) _nerves_ in the hand.
70 165 Drawing of a magnified section through the skin of
the palmar surface of the thumb, including three
of the ridges seen on that surface. _a_, the outer
or horny layer of the _cuticle_; _b_, the deeper layer
of the same called “_rete mucosum_;” _c_, _c_, _c_, the
_cutis_, with _papillæ_ rising from its surface beneath
the ridges and projecting into the rete mucosum;
_g_, _g_, grains of _fat_ lying in the deeper part of the
cutis and in the tissue beneath it. Between _f_
and _f_ are three _sweat-glands_, each composed of a
tube rolled up into a ball or knot. The tubes (_h_, _h_)
are seen ascending from them through the cutis
and cuticle, and opening at the tops of the ridges.
(From Kölliker’s _Mikroskopishe Anatomie_.)
71 170 Section of skin still more magnified. _a_, Outer or
horny stratum of cuticle; _b_, inner stratum of cuticle,
or “rete mucosum;” _c_, papillary stratum of
cutis; _d_, deeper or fibrous stratum of cutis. The
curling tube rolled into a ball at the lower part
is the sweat-gland. Its duct is seen ascending
through the fibrous structure of the cutis, and
presents the coiled appearance of a rope as it
traverses the cuticle.
72 170 A few layers of the cuticle and rete mucosum of
a Negro, showing the spots of dark pigment in
the rete which give the black colour to the
Negro’s skin. (This and the preceding from
Todd and Bowman’s _Phys. Anatomy_.)
73 170 Section of a Corn and adjacent skin. _a_, the _cuticle_;
_c_, the _cutis_ with its _papillæ_. The cuticle is seen
to be very thick, and the papillæ are somewhat
enlarged in the corn.
74 170 Section of a Wart and adjacent skin. _a_, _cuticle_;
_c_, the _cutis_ with its _papillæ_. The latter are seen
to be enlarged, or “hypertrophied,” in the wart.
75 174 Vertical section, made lengthways, of a Nail raised
from its bed, showing its connexion with the
cuticle. _a_, _a_, _cuticle_; _d_, _d_, _nail_.
76 174 Similar section of a Nail lying in its bed of cutis.
_a_, _cuticle_; _b_, _rete mucosum_; _c_, _cutis_; _d_, _nail_.
77 174 Section of the Cutis from which the nail, the cuticle,
and the rete have been removed.
78 176 Transverse section of the Nail and Skin, made vertically.
_a_, _a_, _cuticle_; _b_, _rete_; _c_, _c_, _cutis_; _d_, _d_,
lines running through the cutis to the _papillæ_;
_e_, _e_, _e_, lines running through the nail to the rete.
(This and the three preceding from Kölliker.)
79 179 Section of a Hair and Hair-follicle. _a_ and _b_, the
_cuticle_ and _rete_ lining the follicle. _e_, the outer
layer, or rind, of the hair formed by closely-plaited
scales of cuticle continued upon it from
the bottom of the follicle _d_.
80 179 Piece of the exterior of a Hair more highly magnified
to show the imbricated arrangement of the
plates or scales forming its outer surface.
81,82 179 Transverse sections of Hairs. (These and two preceding
from Todd and Bowman.)
83 181 Section of a Hair-follicle containing a Hair, and
with two Oil-glands, _g_, _g_, lying near it, and with
their ducts opening into it. _a_ and _b_, cuticle and
rete; _d_, bottom of follicle. (From Kölliker.)
84 187 The terminal Bone of a finger, with a portion of the
bone next it, showing the nodulated bulbous end
of the former.
CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
_By the same Author._
I.
A TREATISE ON THE HUMAN SKELETON,
(INCLUDING THE JOINTS),
_With Two Hundred and Sixty Illustrations drawn from Nature._
Medium 8vo. cloth, price £1. 8_s._
II.
AN ESSAY ON THE LIMBS OF VERTEBRATE ANIMALS.
4to. sewed, 5_s._
III.
ON THE COAGULATION OF THE BLOOD IN THE VENOUS SYSTEM DURING LIFE.
8vo. sewed, 2_s._ 6_d._
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUMAN FOOT AND THE HUMAN HAND ***
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