ON THE DISEASES OF THE HEART. 127 
respiration quiet, or certainly not so much increased, as such a 
pulse may have been expected to produce. 1 proceeded with the 
treatment, by way of experiment, and resolved to see the effect of 
again bleeding to one gallon, which he bore without any change 
beyond that of slightly diminishing the throbbing of the heart and 
carotids. As he had passed no dung the last twelve hours, I 
gave an enema of gruel. The digitalis is acting on the kidneys. 
I wished to have its full effect, and continued the 3ss ball every 
eight hours. 
9 o’clock f P,M. —Takes no gruel; his mouth less parched ; 
palpitation rather increased; shews great anxiety; lies down 
the moment the stable is left, and rises again the moment any 
one enters. The pulse in frequency and force as yesterday, and 
it intermits the same. Respiration tranquil, the extremities and 
surface of the body quite warm, and the blood flows through 
the jugulars as freely as if he was in perfect health : repeat the 
digitalis ball at eleven o'clock, and again in the morning at five. 
10th da ^.—Symptoms much the same as last evening; the 
digitalis still acting on the kidneys, but produces no effect 
whatever on the heart, the intermission being the effect of com¬ 
pression. I continued to listen to the contractions of the auricles 
and ventricles; not the slightest gurgling could be observed. 
So powerful and loud were the pulsations of the heart, that I 
could not even hear the respiratory murmur of the lungs at any 
point of the chest. Still the respiration is quiet; the legs, ears, 
and surface of the body, warm : there are no symptoms of local 
congestion within, or serous deposition without; but it is very 
perceptible that the heart cannot act, on account of compression ; 
in fact, that it is partially bound within its sac. The loud and noisy 
impulse is the same in the ventricle as in the auricle; their 
rythm of the same duration, and it exists on the one side of the 
heart the same as on the other; but the loud and clapping 
stroke renders every other thoracic movement inaudible, and 
here ends all the information I could obtain from auscultation. 
The whole frame vibrates with the shocks of the heart: the eye 
(the telegraph of every feeling, every apprehension, and almost 
every quality in the horse) is pitifully directed to the by-stander 
for relief. The countenance is anxious and haggard : he champs 
his teeth, and shakes his upper lip, and in a few more hours all 
will be still. 
I left h im to await the close of the scene, which took place 
about mid-day, almost without a struggle. The man in attend¬ 
ance informed me that the horse shewed a good vein, and his 
ears and legs were quite warm five minutes before he died. 
Dissection. —The brain was first examined, and exhibited some 
