CONVERSATION II.

MRS. Fitzwarine was a widow, and childless; and her nieces, Edith and Grace Clifford, were motherless; therefore she took a parental interest in their welfare. Her husband, Mr. Fitzwarine, had died in the prime of life, a victim to rapid consumption :-but during his short life, his wife had been as happy as mortal could be in this world: she had therefore deep cause to know how precious health is how essential to human bliss. Mr. Fitzwarine's family were consumptive; and his untimely fate led his sorrowing widow to such reflection, as brought her not only to know, but to feel how important to all mankind is a knowledge of the laws that govern the human frame.

Her nieces, Edith and Grace, were of very different characters: Edith was seventeen, with a quick perception, and over-active imagination; whilst Grace, a year younger, had a very reflective mind, and loved to compare and reason more than is common at that early age.

Mrs. Fitzwarine thought that whatever may be the constitution of the mind, grave or gay, light or solid, it is equally necessary that it should be acquainted with the laws that govern the body: health being of equal importance to all ages, all dispositions, and all ranks; she was therefore pleased when she saw her eldest niece Edith, accompany Grace, who said :

"Here I am, most anxious to begin "Physiology,'

and here is Edith, who being a year older ought not to be ignorant on so important a subject; though if you would talk to her about poetry she would be a more willing pupil.

EDITH.

Yes! here I am, Aunt Ellen, bound to listen; as Grace has been, I assure you, discoursing most eloquently and philosophically about it, as part of one's duty, and the only mode to preserve good health and spirits. Now as I hold good spirits to be very charming things, and am at all times too ready "to awake the nimble spirit of mirth," will you let me benefit by your conversations? though I cannot promise to take in philosophy and wisdom con amore, like Grace, yet I will try and be attentive and good.

MRS. F.

I am afraid I cannot make Physiology poetical to please you; but I will try, and not alarm you by scientific language, and thus hope to gain your attention to this important subject.

EDITH.

I am quite ready to listen, and will try and put on the philosophical face of my dear Utilitarian sister! I think, however, that people are not so ignorant of Physiology as Dr. Dee seems to fancy; for does not the press teem with books to enlighten, on " Indigestion," "Consumption," "Liver Complaints," Change of Air," &c. &c.?

MRS. F.

Very true, it does; but these books treat of a state of disease, whilst we are going to discuss health, and the means of retaining it. The cure of disease we must leave to the doctors: I would teach you only how to diminish and avoid the causes of ill health.

EDITH.

Well, if you can teach us to do without doctors and physic, it will be very pleasant. It is certainly

very prosaic to be ill: but I think Dr. Dee will not thank you for your pains, if you prevent his having any patients.

MRS. F.

Dr. Dee will, I fancy, be much obliged to me for aiding him. I shall not interfere with his practice. It is not possible for unprofessional persons to form a correct judgment in diseases: were they to try, they would most probably fall into sad errors. For instance :-I know a lady, who once felt palpitations of the heart; she read a medical treatise, and saw that palpitations were symptoms of a diseased heart: she immediately fancied she had a disease of the heart, and must speedily die! but her medical man being called in, found it was only a fit of indigestion.

EDITH.

Yes; everything is laid to the stomach in these days. I have heard it said, all people eat too much, except poor people, who can't get enough to eat!

MRS. F.

Every one knows wholesome and plain diet is conducive to health. But we are not going to discuss the stomach; for, as you say, books abound on that subject but we will turn to other organs of our body of equal interest, and of as much consequence, which have not been so much discussed. Among these are the Skin, the Muscles, the Bones, the Lungs, and the Nervous System.

EDITH.

What, Aunt! are we to become Anatomists? I don't think I shall fancy this Physiology. However, proceed. I will listen attentively, though I do not promise to do your instruction the credit Grace will.

MRS. F.

We will begin with the Skin-that delicate structure which Poets have compared to lilies and roses. Will you not be interested in the cause of rosy cheeks and coral lips?

Edith nodded her head, and repressed her smiles, whilst Mrs. Fitzwarine continued ::

The Skin is that delicate covering in which our wonderful frame is wrapped up. It covers the whole body, though different at different ages: soft and delicate in youth-firm and resisting in middle age -flabby and wrinkled in old age, or after disease. The structure of the skin, like every other part of the human body, shews the wisdom of the Great Creator. Though it seems so simple, it is composed of several parts, and has various uses. You will perhaps be surprised to hear we have three skins!

EDITH.

Three skins! I shall remember that, for three is a magic number. Three Graces-three Fates-and three skins!

MRS. F.

The skin is composed of three layers. The external skin is called the cuticle: it is very thin indeed, and has no feeling in it: without nerves and bloodvessels, it neither bleeds nor feels pain.

GRACE.

We feel pain through our nerves, do we not?

MRS. F.

Yes. This cuticle, or outside skin, seems placed over the other two skins to guard them: without it we could not touch anything hot, or cold, or rough. This you may frequently experience, when you have rubbed off or broken the cuticle. What pain it gives you if anything then touch the skin! where the cuticle, or outside skin is peeled off, every touch is pain! Our hands are furnished with a very thick cuticle, and you know we can touch very hard and sharp bodies with our hands, without any sensation of pain. The soles of the feet are also furnished with a thick cuticle, for the same reason.

GRACE.

I suppose it is the cuticle only that is raised in

blisters; for I remember when they cut my blister, I felt no pain; the skin appeared a tough bit of goldbeater's skin only!

MRS. F.

Exactly so. By a very benevolent provision of Nature, the cuticle becomes thicker, when it is much used; till sometimes it becomes almost as thick and hard as horn. Such is the case with those who wear no shoes by constant use the cuticle at the bottom of the feet thickens, until it preserves the foot as well as the sole of a shoe. It is this thickening of the cuticle, or external skin, on the first finger, that enables women to use that important little instrument the needle.

EDITH.

And the tips of my fingers are hard from pressing them on the strings of the guitar.

MRS. F.

It is this same thickening by use, that causes the blacksmith to use his hammer, and the boatman his oars, without that painful tenderness and blistering, which a young apprentice, or one unaccustomed to the labour, experiences.

GRACE.

I have had my hands blistered at first by holding my bow, and my fingers with pressing against the arrow; but now they are quite tough-or, to use the proper expression, the cuticle has become so thick, that it defends my skin from any pain or inconvenience, and I can shoot for hours without hurting my hands.

MRS. F.

To produce this thickening of the upper skin, exercise must be gradual. Nature never does things in a hurry. The trees unfold their leaves day by day—and hour by hour the fruit grows to maturity. Great are the changes in the earth, but Nature makes these changes by slow progressive steps.