Hence it may be said that every individual in the community is crying out for universal economy, with more generous treatment of himself. The response made by the State to the latter part of his demand is in proportion to the vehemence with which it is presented. If the spinal cord of an animal be cut across near the medulla oblongata, respiration being maintained by pumping air into and out of the lungs, the heart continues to beat with undiminished force, but the pressure in the large arteries falls to one-third of its normal height. Constricting impulses no longer pass down the spinal cord from the vaso-motor centre. This experiment also illustrates the truth of the statement that models of the vascular system—arrangements of pumps and indiarubber tubes—are more likely to mislead than to inform. In an artificial schema the relaxation of the constriction of the small tubes on the proximal side of the capillary vessels would reduce friction. Fluid would reach the capillaries in larger quantity, and pass through them more quickly. The pressure in the tubes which represented veins would consequently approach more nearly to that on the arterial side. But when the spinal cord is divided the pressure falls in the veins, as well as in the arteries. This is due to another factor, and one of very great importance in the regulation of the circulation. The blood from the digestive organs is collected by the “portal system” of veins. These do not join the inferior vena cava; they go to the liver, where they again break up into capillaries. It is not until after this second distribution through minute vessels that the blood is re-collected by the hepatic veins and forwarded to the heart. As in the case of the arteries, the portal system of vessels is controlled by the nervous system. When the spinal cord is divided they also dilate. The whole vascular system becoming more capacious, blood-pressure falls in veins as well as in arteries. When the digestive organs are active, other parts of the body are kept short of blood. It chanced to the writer, in his student days, to spend the early summer in Paris, with a big healthy Yorkshireman as companion. We dined together each night at one of the restaurants of the Palais Royal _à prix fixe_. After dinner, with British regularity, my friend called for the _Times_. Then followed a short period of placid reading, interrupted by the remark: “How cold it is!” Half an hour later, giving himself a shake: “Suppose we go and dine somewhere else?” His well-ordered digestive organs had made short work of the two-franc dinner. They had been ably supported by the vaso-motor system of nerves which provided them with the bulk of the blood, while limbs and skin ran short.