Scientific American Supplement, No. 497, July 11, 1885

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THE SUSPENSION OF LIFE.

Every one knows that life exists in a latent state in the seeds of
plants, and may be preserved therein, so to speak, indefinitely. In
1853, Ridolfi deposited in the Egyptian Museum of Florence a sheaf of
wheat that he had obtained from seeds found in a mummy case dating back
about 3,000 years. This aptitude of revivification is found to a high
degree in animalcules of low order. The air which we breathe is loaded
with impalpable dust that awaits, for ages perhaps, proper conditions
of heat and moisture to give it an ephemeral life that it will lose and
acquire by turns.

In 1707, Spallanzani found it possible, eleven times in succession, to
suspend the life of rotifers submitted to desiccation, and to call it
back again by moistening this organic dust with water. A few years
ago Doyere brought to life some tardigrades that had been dried at a
temperature of 150 deg. and kept four weeks in a vacuum. If we ascend the
scale of beings, we find analogous phenomena produced by diverse causes.
Flies that have been imported in casks of Madeira have been resuscitated
in Europe, and chrysalids have been kept in this state for years.
Cockchafers drowned, and then dried in the sun, have been revived after
a lapse of twenty-four hours, two days, and even five days, after
submersion. Frogs, salamanders, and spiders poisoned by curare or
nicotine, have returned to life after several days of apparent death.

Cold produces some extraordinary effects. Spallanzani kept several frogs
in the center of a lump of ice for two years, and, although they became
dry, rigid, almost friable, and gave no external appearance of being
alive, it was only necessary to expose them to a gradual and moderate
heat to put an end to the lethargic state in which they lay.

Pikes and salamanders have at different epochs been revived before the
eyes of Maupertuis and Constant Dumeril (members of the Academy of
Sciences) after being frozen stiff. Auguste Dumeril, son of Constant,
and who was the reporter of the committee relative to the Blois toad in
1851, published a curious memoir the following year in which he narrates
how he interrupted life through congelation of the liquids and solids of
the organism. Some frogs, whose internal temperature had been reduced to
-2 deg. in an atmosphere of -12 deg., returned to life before his eyes, and he
observed their tissues regain their usual elasticity and their heart
pass from absolute immobility to its normal motion.

There is therefore no reason for doubting the assertions of travelers
who tell us that the inhabitants of North America and Russia transport
fish that are frozen stiff, and bring them to life again by dipping them
into water of ordinary temperature ten or fifteen days afterward. But I
think too much reliance should not be put in the process devised by
the great English physiologist, Hunter, for prolonging the life of man
indefinitely by successive freezings. It has been allowed to no one but
a romancer, Mr. Edmond About, to be present at this curious operation.

Among the mammifera we find appearances of death in their winter sleep;
but these are incomplete, since the temperature of hibernating animals
remains greater by one degree than that of the surrounding air, and the
motions of the heart and respiration are simply retarded. Dr. Preyer has
observed that a hamster sometimes goes five minutes without breathing
appreciably after a fortnight's sleep.

In man himself a suspension of life, or at least phenomena that seem
inseparable therefrom, has been observed many times. In the _Journal des
Savants_ for 1741 we read that a Col. Russel, having witnessed the
death of his wife, whom he tenderly loved, did not wish her buried, and
threatened to kill any one who should attempt to remove the body before
he witnessed its decomposition himself. Eight days passed by without the
woman giving the slightest sign of life, "when, at a moment when he was
holding her hand and shedding tears over her, the church bell began to
ring, and, to his indescribable surprise, his wife sat up and said, 'It
is the last stroke, we shall be too late.' She recovered."

At a session of the Academy of Sciences, Oct. 17, 1864, Mr. Blaudet
communicated a report upon a young woman of thirty summers who, being
subject to nervous attacks, fell, after her crises, into a sort of
lethargic sleep which lasted several weeks and sometimes several months.
One of her sleeps, especially, lasted from the beginning of the year
1862 until March, 1863.

Dr. Paul Levasseur relates that, in a certain English family, lethargy
seemed to have become hereditary. The first case was exhibited in an old
lady who remained for fifteen days in an immovable and insensible state,
and who afterward, on regaining her consciousness, lived for quite a
long time. Warned by this fact, the family preserved a young man for
several weeks who appeared to be dead, but who came to life again.

Dr. Pfendler, in an inaugural thesis (Paris, 1833), minutely describes a
case of apparent death of which he himself was a witness. A young girl
of Vienna at the age of 15 was attacked by a nervous affection that
brought on violent crises followed by lethargic states which lasted
three or four days. After a time she became so exhausted that the first
physicians of the city declared that there was no more hope. It was not
long, in fact, before she was observed to rise in her bed and fall back
as if struck with death. "For four hours she appeared to me," says Dr.
Pfendler, "completely inanimate. With Messrs. Franck and Schaeffer,
I made every possible effort to rekindle the spark of life. Neither
mirror, nor burned feather, nor ammonia, nor pricking succeeded in
giving us a sign of sensibility. Galvanism was tried without the patient
showing any contractility. Mr. Franck believed her to be dead, but
nevertheless advised me to leave her on the bed. For twenty-eight hours
no change supervened, although it was thought that a little putrefaction
was observed. The death bell was sounded, the friends of the girl had
dressed her in white and had crowned her with flowers, and all was
arranged for her burial. Desiring to convince myself of the course of
the putrefaction, I visited the body again, and found that no further
advance had been made than before. What was my astonishment when I
believed that I saw a slight respiratory motion. I looked again, and saw
that I was not mistaken. I at once used friction and irritants, and in
an hour and a half the respiration increased. The patient opened her
eyes, and, struck with the funereal paraphernalia around her, returned
to consciousness, and said, 'I am too young to die.'" All this was
followed by a ten hours' sleep. Convalescence proceeded rapidly, and the
girl became free from all her nervous troubles. During her crisis she
heard everything. She quoted some Latin words that Mr. Franck had used.
Her most fearful agony had been to hear the preparations for her burial
without being able to get rid of her torpor. Medical dictionaries are
full of anecdotes of this nature, but I shall cite but two more.

On the 10th of November, 1812, during the fatal retreat from Russia,
Commandant Tascher, desiring to bring back to France the body of his
general, who had been killed by a bullet, and who had been buried since
the day before, disinterred him, and, upon putting him into a landau,
and noticing that he was still breathing, brought him to life again by
dint of care. A long time afterward this same general was one of the
pall bearers at the funeral obsequies of the aide-de-camp who had buried
him. In 1826 a young priest returned to life at the moment the bishop
of the diocese was pronouncing the _De Profundis_ over his body. Forty
years afterward, this priest, who had become Cardinal Donnett, preached
a feeling sermon upon the danger of premature burial.

I trust I have now sufficiently prepared the mind of the reader for an
examination of the phenomena of the voluntary suspension of life that I
shall now treat of.

The body of an animal may be compared to a machine that converts the
food that it receives into motion. It receives nothing, it will produce
nothing; but there is no reason why it should get out of order if it is
not deteriorated by external agents. The legendary rustic who wanted to
accustom his ass to go without food was therefore theoretically wrong
only because he at the same time wanted the animal to work. The whole
difficulty consists in breaking with old habits. To return to the
comparison that we just made, we shall run the risk of exploding the
boiler of a steam engine if we heat it or cool it abruptly, but we can
run it very slowly and for a very long time with but very little fuel.
We may even preserve a little fire under the ashes, and this, although
it may not be capable of setting the parts running, will suffice later
on to revivify the fireplace after it has been charged anew with fuel.

We have recently had the example of Dr. Tanner, who went forty days
without any other nourishment than water. Not very long ago Liedovine de
Schiedam, who had been bedridden for twenty years, affirmed that she
had taken no food for eight of them. It is said that Saint Catharine of
Sienna gradually accustomed herself to do without food, and that she
lived twenty years in total abstinence. We know of several examples of
prolonged sleep during which the sleeper naturally took no nourishment.
In his Magic Disquisitions, Delvis cites the case of a countryman who
slept for an entire autumn and winter. Pfendler relates that a certain
young and hysterical woman fell twice into a deep slumber which each
time lasted six months. In 1883 an _enceinte_ woman was found asleep
on a bench in the Grand Armee Avenue. She was taken to the Beaujon
Hospital, where she was delivered a few days after while still asleep,
and it was not till the end of three months that she could be awakened
from her lethargy. At this very moment, at Tremeille, a woman named
Marguerite Bouyenvalle is sleeping a sleep that has lasted nearly a
year, during which the only food that she has had is a few drops of soup
daily.

What is more remarkable, Dr. Fournier says in his Dictionary of Medical
Sciences that he knew of a distinguished writer at Paris, who sometimes
went for months at a time without taking anything but emollient drinks,
while at the same time living along like other people.

Respiration is certainly more necessary to life than food is; but it is
not absolutely indispensable, as we have seen in the cases of apparent
death cited in our previous article. It is possible, through exercise,
for a person to accustom himself, up to a certain point, to abstinence
from air as he can from food. Those who dive for pearls, corals, or
sponges succeed in remaining from two to three minutes under water. Miss
Lurline, who exhibited in Paris in 1882, remained two and a half minutes
beneath the water of her aquarium without breathing. In his treatise De
la Nature, Henri de Rochas, physician to Louis XIII., gives six minutes
as the maximum length of time that can elapse between successive
inspirations of air. It is probable that this figure was based upon an
observation of hibernating animals.

In his Encyclopedic Dictionary, Dr. Dechambre relates the history of
a Hindoo who hid himself in the waters of the Ganges where women were
bathing, seized one of them by the legs, drowned her, and then removed
her jewels. Her disappearance was attributed to crocodiles. One woman
who succeeded in escaping him denounced the assassin, who was seized and
hanged in 1817.

A well known case, is that of Col. Townshend, who possessed the
remarkable faculty of stopping at will not only his respiration, but
also the beating of his heart. He performed the experiment one day in
the presence of Surgeon Gosch, who cared for him in his old age, two
physicians, and his apothecary, Mr. Shrine. In their presence, says
Gosch, the Colonel lay upon his back, Dr. Cheyne watched his pulse, Dr.
Baynard put his hand upon his heart, and Mr. Shrine held a mirror to
his mouth. After a few seconds no pulse, movement of the heart, or
respiration could be observed. At the end of half an hour, as the
spectators were beginning to get frightened, they observed the functions
progressively resuming their course, and the Colonel came back to life.

The fakirs of India habituate themselves to abstinence from air, either
by introducing into the nostrils strings that come out through the
mouth, or by dwelling in subterranean cells that air and light never
enter except through narrow crevices that are sometimes filled with
clay. Here they remain seated in profound silence, for hours at a time,
without any other motion than that of the fingers as the latter slowly
take beads from a chaplet, the mind absorbed by the mental pronunciation
of OM (the holy triune name), which they must repeat incessantly while
endeavoring to breathe as little as possible. They gradually lengthen
the intervals between their inspirations and expirations, until, in
three or four months, they succeed in making them an hour and a half.
This is not the ideal, for one of their sacred books says, in speaking
of a saint: "At the fourth month he no longer takes any food but air,
and that only every twelve days, and, master of his respiration he
embraces God in his thought. At the fifth he stands as still as a pole;
he no longer sees anything but Baghavat, and God touches his cheek to
bring him out of his ecstasy."

It will be conceived that by submitting themselves to such gymnastics
from infancy, certain men, already predisposed by atavism or a peculiar
conformation, might succeed in doing things that would seem impossible
to the common run of mortals. Do we not daily see acrobats remaining
head downward for a length of time that would suffice to kill 99 per
cent, of their spectators through congestion if they were to place
themselves in the same posture? Can the savage who laboriously learns
to spell, letter by letter, comprehend how many people get the general
sense of an entire page at a single glance?

There is no reason, then, _a priori_, for assigning to the domain of
legerdemain the astonishing facts that are told us by a large number of
witnesses, worthy of credence, regarding a young fakir who, forty years
ago, was accustomed to allow himself to be buried, and resuscitated
several months afterward.

An English officer, Mr. Osborne, gives the following account of one of
these operations, which took place in 1838 at the camp of King Randjet
Singh:

"After a few preparations, which lasted some days, and that it would
prove repugnant to enumerate, the fakir declared himself ready to
undergo the ordeal. The Maharajah, the Sikhs chiefs, and Gen. Ventura,
assembled near a masonry tomb that had been constructed expressly to
receive him. Before their eyes, the fakir closed with wax all the
apertures in his body (except his mouth) that could give entrance
to air. Then, having taken off the clothing that he had on, he was
enveloped in a canvas sack, and, according to his wish, his tongue was
turned back in such a way as to close the entrance to his windpipe.
Immediately after this he fell into a sort of trance. The bag that held
him was closed and a seal was put upon it by the Maharajah. The bag was
then put into a wooden box, which was fastened by a padlock, sealed, and
let down into the tomb. A large quantity of earth was thrown into the
hole and rammed down, and then barley was sown on the surface and
sentinels placed around with orders to watch day and night.

"Despite all such precautions, the Maharajah had his doubts; so he came
twice in the space of ten months (the time during which the fakir was
buried), and had the tomb opened in his presence. The fakir was in the
bag into which he had been put, cold and inanimate. The ten months
having expired, he was disinterred, Gen. Ventura and Capt. Ward saw the
padlock removed, the seals broken, and the box taken from the tomb.
The fakir was taken out, and no pulsation either at the heart or pulse
indicated the presence of life. As a first measure for reviving him, a
person introduced a finger gently into his mouth and placed his tongue
in its natural position. The top of his head was the only place where
there was any perceptible heat. By slowly pouring warm water over his
body, signs of life were gradually obtained, and after about two hours
of care the patient got up and began to walk.

"This truly extraordinary man says that during his burial he has
delightful dreams, but that the moment of awakening is always very
painful to him. Before returning to a consciousness of his existence he
experiences vertigoes. His nails and hair cease to grow. His only fear
is that he may be harmed by worms and insects, and it is to protect
himself from these that he has the box suspended in the center of the
tomb."

This sketch was published in the _Magasin Pittoresque_ in 1842 by a
writer who had just seen Gen. Ventura in Paris, and had obtained from
him a complete confirmation of the story told by Capt. Wade.

Another English officer, Mr. Boileau, in a work published in 1840,
and Dr. MacGregor, in his medical topography of Lodhiana, narrate two
analogous exhumations that they separately witnessed. The question
therefore merits serious examination.--_A. de Rochas, in La Nature_.

* * * * *

Some experiments recently made by M. Olszewsky appear to show that
liquid oxygen is one of the best of refrigerants. He found that when
liquefied oxygen was allowed to vaporize under the pressure of one
atmosphere, a temperature as low as -181.4 deg. C. was produced. The
temperature fell still further when the pressure on the liquid oxygen
was reduced to nine millimeters of mercury. Though the pressure was
reduced still further to four millimeters of mercury, yet the oxygen
remained liquid. Liquefied nitrogen, when allowed to evaporate under a
pressure of sixty millimeters of mercury, gave a temperature of -214 deg.
C., only the surface of the liquid gas became opaque from incipient
solidification. Under lower pressures the nitrogen solidified,
and temperatures as low as -225 deg. C. were recorded by the hydrogen
thermometer. The lowest temperature obtained by allowing liquefied
carbonic oxide to vaporize was -220.5 deg. C.

* * * * *

CONVALLARIA.

By OTTO A. WALL, M.D., Ph.G.

Cnovallaria Majalis is a stemless perennial plant, found in both
the eastern and western hemispheres, with two elliptic leaves and a
one-sided raceme bearing eight or ten bell-shaped flowers. The flowers
are fragrant, and perfumes called "Lily of the Valley" are among the
popular odors.

Both leaves and flowers have been used in medicine, but the rhizome is
the part most frequently used.

[Illustration: CONVALLARIA.]

The fresh rhizome is a creeping, branching rhizome of a pale yellowish
white color, which, on drying, darkens to a straw color, or even a
brown in places. When dry it is about the thickness of a thick knitting
needle, swelling to the thickness of a quill when soaked in water. It
is of uniform thickness, except near the leaf-bearing ends, which are
thicker marked with numerous leafscars, or bare buds covered with
scales, and often having attached the tattered remains of former leaves.
Fig. A shows a portion of rhizome, natural size, and Fig. B shows
another piece enlarged to double linear size.

The internodes are smooth, the rootlets being attached at the nodes. The
rootlets are filiform, and darker in color.

The rhizome is covered by an epidermis, composed of muriform cells of a
bright yellow color, after having been treated with liquor potassae to
clear up the tissues. These cells are shown in Fig. G. An examination of
the transverse section shows us the endogenous structure, as we find
it also in various other drugs (sarsaparilla, etc.), namely, a nucleus
sheath, inclosing the fibrovascular bundles and pith, and surrounded
by a peri-ligneous or peri-nuclear portion, consisting of soft-walled
parenchyma cells, loosely arranged with many small, irregularly
triangular, intercellular spaces in the tranverse section. Some of these
cells contain bundles of raphides (Fig. 2), one of which bundles is
shown crushed in Fig. J. Sometimes these crystals are coarser and less
needle-like, as in Fig. K. Fig. C shows a transverse section through the
leaf-bearing portion of the rhizome (at a), and is rather irregular on
account of the fibrovascular bundles diverging into the base of the
leaves of flower-stalks. A more regular appearance is seen in Fig. D,
which is a section through the internode (b). In it we see the nuclear
sheath, varying in width from one to three cells, and inclosing a number
of crescent-shaped fibrovascular bundles, with their convexities toward
the center and their horns toward the nuclear sheath. There are also
from two to four or five free closed fibrovascular bundles in the
central pith.

These fibrovascular bundles consist mainly of dotted or reticulated
ducts (Fig. F), but all gradations from, this to the spiroids, or even
true spiral ducts (Fig. E). may be found, though the annular and spiral
ducts are quite rare. These ducts are often prismatically compressed
by each other. The fibrovascular bundles also contain soft-walled
prosenchyma cells. The peri-nuclear portion consists of soft-walled
parenchyma, smaller near the nuclear sheath and the epidermis, and
larger about midway between, and of the same character as the cells of
the pith. In longitudinal section they appear rectangular, similar to
the walls of the epidermis (G), but with thinner walls.

All parts of the plant have been used in medicine, either separately or
together, and according to some authorities the whole flowering plant is
the best form in which to use this drug.

The active principles are _convallaramin_ and _convallarin_.

It is considered to act similarly to digitalis as a heart-stimulant,
especially when the failure of the heart's action is due to mechanical
impediments rather than to organic degeneration. It is best given in the
form of fluid extract in the dose of 1 to 5 cubic centimeters (15 to
75 minims), commencing with the smaller doses, and increasing, if
necessary, according to the effects produced in each individual
case.--_The Pharmacist_.

* * * * *

FLIGHT OF THE BUZZARD.

During my visit to the Southern States of America, I have had several
opportunities of watching, under favorable conditions, the flight of the
buzzard, the scavenger of Southern cities. Although in most respect this
bird's manner of flight resembles that of the various sea-birds which I
have often watched for hours sailing steadily after ocean steamships,
yet, being a land bird, the buzzard is more apt to give examples of that
kind of flight in which a bird remains long over the same place. Instead
of sailing steadily on upon outstretched pinions, the buzzard often
ascends in a series of spirals, or descends along a similar course. I
have not been able to time the continuance of the longest flights during
which the wings have not once been flapped, for the simple reason that,
in every case where I have attempted to do so, the bird has passed out
of view either by upward or horizontal traveling. But I am satisfied
that in many cases the bird sweeps onward or about on unflapping wings
for more than half an hour.

Now, many treat this problem of aerial flotation as if it were of the
nature of a miracle--something not to be explained. Explanations which
have been advanced have, it is true, been in many cases altogether
untenable. For instance, some have asserted that the albatross, the
condor, and other birds which float for a long time without moving
their wings--and that, too, in some cases, at great heights above the
sea-level, where the air is very thin--are supported by some gas within
the hollow parts of their bones, as the balloon is supported by the
hydrogen within it. The answer to this is that a balloon is _not_
supported by the hydrogen within it, but by the surrounding air, and in
just such degree as the air is displaced by the lighter gas. The air
around a bird is only displaced by the bird's volume, and the pressure
of the air corresponding to this displacement is not equivalent to more
than one five-hundredth part of the bird's weight. Another idea is that
when a bird seems to be floating on unmoving wings there is really a
rapid fluttering of the feathers of the wings, by which a sustaining
power is obtained. But no one who knows anything of the anatomy of
the bird will adopt this idea for an instant, and no one who has ever
watched with a good field-glass a floating bird of the albatross or
buzzard kind will suppose they are fluttering their feathers in this
way, even though he should be utterly ignorant of the anatomy of the
wings. Moreover, any one acquainted with the laws of dynamics will know
that there would be tremendous loss of power in the fluttering movement
imagined as compared with the effect of sweeping downward and backward
the whole of each wing.

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