234 A HISTORY OF 



joints, and which serves, like oil to a hinge, to give them an easy and 

 ready play, is now grown more scanty. It becomes thicker, and more 

 clammy, more unfif for answering the purposes of motion; and from 

 thence, in old age, every joint is not only stiff, but awkward. At 

 every motion, this clammy liquor is heard to crack; and it is not 

 without the greatest efforts of the muscles that its resistance is over- 

 come. I have seen an old person, who never moved a single joint, 

 that did not thus give notice of the violence done to it." 



The membranes that cover the bones, the joints, and the rest of the 

 body, become, as we grow old, more dense and more dry. These 

 which surround the bones, soon cease to be ductile. The fibres, of 

 which the muscles or flesh is composed, become every day more rigid ; 

 and, while to the touch the body seems, as we advance in years, to 

 grow softer, it is, in reality, increasing in hardness. It is the skin, 

 and not the flesh, that we feel upon such occasions. The fat, and the 

 flabbiness of that, seems to give an appearance of softness, which the 

 flesh itself is very far from having. There are few can doubt this, 

 after trying the difference between the flesh of young and old animals. 

 The first is soft and tender, the last is hard and dry. 



The skin is the only part of the body that age does not contribute 

 to harden. That stretches to eve-ry degree of tension ; and we have 

 horrid instances of its pliancy, in many disorders incident to humanity 

 In youth, therefore, while the body is vigorous and increasing, it still 

 gives way to its growth. But, although it thus adapts itself to our 

 increase, it does not in the same manner conform to our decay. The 

 skin, which in youth was filled and glossy, when the body begins to 

 decline, has not elasticity enough to shrink entirely with its diminu 

 lion. It hangs, therefore, in wrinkles, which no art can remove. The 

 wrinkles of the body, in general, proceed from this cause. But those 

 of the face seem to proceed from another; namely, from the many 

 varieties of positions into which it is put by the speech, the food, or 

 the passions. Every grimace, and every passion, wrinkles up the 

 visage into different forms. These are visible enough in young per- 

 sons ; but what at first was accidental, or transitory, becomes unal- 

 terably fixed in the visage as it grows older. "From hence we may 

 conclude, that a freedom from passions not only adds to the happiness 

 of the mind, but preserves the beauty of the face ; and the person 

 that has not felt their influence, is less strongly marked by the decays 

 of nature." 



Hence, therefore, as we advance in age, the bones, the cartilages, 

 the membranes, the flesh, the skin, and every fibre of the body, be- 

 come more solid, more brittle, and more dry. Every part shrinks, 

 every motion becomes more slow; the circulation of the fluids is per- 

 formed with less freedom; perspiration diminishes; the secretions 

 alter; the digestion becomes slow and laborious; and the juices no 

 longer serving to convey their accustomed nourishment, those parts 

 may be said to live no longer when the circulation ceases. Thus the 

 body dies by little and little ; all its functions are diminished by de- 

 grees; life is driven from one part of the frame to another; universal 

 nudity prevails ; and death at last seizes upon the little that is left. 



As the bones, the cartilages, the muscles, and all other paits of the 



