The reason why : $b a careful collection of many hundreds of reasons for things which, though generally believed, are imperfectly understood. A book of condensed scientific knowledge for the million
John Stuart Mill · en
Whilst the rooms of our house are filled with air, it is otherwise
with water, which we require in less degree than air. If we have
not the artificial means by which water is brought to our houses,
through the pipes of a water company, there is a spring or a pump
in the garden; or in the absence of these, a good sound cask,
standing at the end of our house, forming a receptacle to the
water-pipes that surround it, provides us with a supply of water
distilled from the clouds. If we were to drink a good draught of
water once a day, that would be sufficient for all the purposes
of life, as far as regards the alimentary uses of water. Man is,
therefore, allowed to go to the stream for his drink, and is
required to raise it to his lips at those moments when he uses it.
Although, in breathing, man separates the _oxygen_ of the air from
the _nitrogen_ thereof, he does not separate the _oxygen_ of the
water from the _hydrogen_. Water, in fact, undergoes no change
in the body, excepting that of admixture with the substances of
the body. And its uses are, to moisten, to cool, to cleanse, and
also to nourish the parts with which it comes in contact. But it
affords no nourishment of itself; it mixes with the blood, of
which it forms a material part, and is the means of conveying _the
nourishment of the blood_ to every part of the system. After it
has filled this office, and taken up impurities that are required
to be removed, it is cast out of the system again, without
undergoing any chemical change.
Man's body is to his Soul, in many respects, what a house is to
its occupant. But how superior is the dwelling which God erected,
to that which man has built. Reader, come out of yourself, and in
imagination realise the abstraction of the Soul from the body.
Make an effort of thought, and do not relinquish that effort,
until you fancy that you see your image seated on a chair before
you. And now proceed to ask yourself certain questions respecting
your bodily tenement--questions which, perchance, have never
occurred to you before; but which will impress themselves the more
forcibly upon you, in proportion as you realise for a moment the
idea of your Soul examining the body which it inhabits. There sits
before you a form of exquisite proportions, with reference to the
mode of life it has to pursue--the wants of the Soul for which it
has to care, and which it has to guard, under the direction of
that Soul, its owner and master.