94 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



mentioned immediately precedes unconsciousness, as all who have taken 

 anaesthetics know. 



It is probable that the entrance of water into the lungs has a great 

 deal to do with the painlessness of drowning. It is certain that uncon- 

 sciousness comes on more quickly when the person is deprived of air 

 because the lungs are filled with water, than when the air-passages are 

 closed, while the lungs remain intact. Most persons can hold their 

 breath for a minute, very many for a minute and a half, some for two 

 minutes. In one of the variety theatres of New York appeared re- 

 cently "The Brilliant Pearl of the Enchanted Grotto, christened Undine, 

 who performs, while under water, incased in a mammoth crystal illu- 

 minated glass tank, feats of astonishing suppleness and almost unbe- 

 lievable endurance." This performer can probably remain under water, 

 holding her breath voluntarily, two minutes and perhaps more. I have 

 myself, watch in hand, seen Johnson, the celebrated ocean-swimmer, 

 remain under water, in a tank before an audience, for the astonishing 

 space of three minutes and twenty seconds, and, before he rose, the in- 

 voluntary contractions of his respiratory muscles were uncomfortable 

 to witness. In such cases, although extreme distress may be felt, there 

 is no approach to unconsciousness. But if a person's head is under 

 water, and he does not hold his breath, unconsciousness will usually 

 come on in one or two minutes at the farthest. 



If this be so, it is evident that a person will drown more quickly if 

 he loses his presence of mind on falling into the water than if he re- 

 tains it. In the former case he will swallow water with his first gasp 

 after sinking, while in the latter case he will hold his breath as long as 

 he can. The latter will suffer more than the former. There is also a 

 difference in the amount of mental agony in the two cases. A person 

 who cannot swim sinks at the first plunge, but, as soon as the impetus 

 of his fall is destroyed, his frantic struggles or a kick against the bot- 

 tom, if he happens to touch it, sends him up to the surface, for the 

 specific gravity of the body is so nearly that of water that a very 

 slight motion of the hands or feet is sufficient to keep one afloat. Ar- 

 rived at the surface, he gasps for breath, swallows a quantity of water, 

 sucks some of it into his lungs, catches hold of straw's or small floating 

 objects in a wild, senseless way, and, every time he lifts his arm above 

 the surface, pi-oduces the same effect as if a piece of lead had been tied 

 to his feet. So down he goes again half strangled, and the same pro- 

 cess is repeated. As soon as unconsciousness comes on, the struggles 

 cease, and the body remains beneath the surface. During all this agony 

 the suffering of the drowning man is undoubtedly chiefly mental. It 

 comes from the instinctive dread of death which even the stoic cannot 

 rid himself of, and is of the same nature as the mental agony of the 

 condemned man before his execution, though less prolonged. And it 

 is probable that even this mental suffering is so much affected by the 

 convulsive and tremendous physical agitation that, in a measure, the 



