It was "a fit, people said, that thus suddenly terminated poor Johnny's career; and the coroner, with all his skill, could make out little more than what will be reported of us all in our turn, that he was "found dead." This was following up his business with a gallantry that was worthy of him, facing the enemy to the last moment, and dying under arms. He had complained of no indispo-operation intended immediately and principally for the sition, no unusual sensations on last leaving his home; but started on his expedition with his accustomed alacrity, beat his way against wind and rain, to the ordinary boundary of his outward voyage, and there "brought up," to rest from his roaming for ever.

THE HEALTH OF THE SKIN.

THE skin of man performs many important functions. It is not merely the sensitive covering of the body connecting us with surrounding nature, but it is also one of the most important depurating organs of the system, constantly employed in removing its impurities, and without the incessant activity and agency of which, there can neither be health nor long life.

One of the characteristic features of all organized beings is, the series of changes which the material composing them is constantly undergoing. During every moment of our existence, we are adding new particles to our frame, in place of old particles which are thrown off; and no person can say with truth, that at any one moment he is the same being, in the material which composes him, that he was the moment before, or will be the moment after. This constant change of particles holds true of the infirm man of eighty, as of the infant a day old. And of the organs concerned in this extraordinary change of the material composing the human structure, the skin is one of the most important; both absorbing, or drawing in new matter; and excreting, or throwing off, old.

The outermost covering of the body is called the cuticle, or scarf-skin. It is a thin layer of elastic matter, something like a coating of india-rubber, a kind of natural macintosh. Strange to say, this part of the skin is quite dead-it has no more sensation than a glove. Its component parts resemble those of the nails and hair. Viewed under a microscope, it presents the appearance of an infinity of dry, flattened, and extremely thin scales, overlapping each other; an arrangement which admits of the utmost freedom of movement of the body, and at the same time of the exercise of the faculties of sensation and touch. The minute scales which we have referred to are undergoing a continual change-they fall off by constant wearing and friction, and their removal by ablution is rendered necessary, not merely to the health of the skin, but to that of the entire body. Sometimes, by constant pressure or friction, the cuticle becomes much thickened, as in the needlewoman's finger, and in the blacksmith's hand, when it assumes the consistence of horn.

Immediately underneath the cuticle is a second layer, though not separable from it, (called the rete mucosum,) in which the colour of the skin resides; in the negro, black; in the Malay, olive-tinted, and so on. Then we arrive at the true or sensitive skin, by which the chief functions of the organ are performed. It is abundantly supplied with sensitive nerves, blood-vessels, absorbing and exhalatory vessels. These are knitted together by cellular tissue, and are so interwoven together, that they constitute a firm, strong, and flexible web. The true skin is extremely sensitive, its surface being amazingly extended by the contrivance of an infinite number of

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minute, elongated, conical prominences, technically termed papillæ. The extreme sensitiveness of these is blunted by the cuticle which covers them-otherwise sensation and touch could not be exercised without pain.

Perhaps the most important function of the skin is that which it performs as an exhalant of waste matter, after it has done its proper work in the system. To perform this office, the skin is everywhere perforated by what are called the pores. Dr. Erasmus Wilson gives the following account of the extraordinary number of them, in his excellent little work on Healthy Skin. "To arrive at something like an estimate of the value of the perspiratory system in relation to the rest of the organism, I counted the perspiratory pores on the palm of the hand, and found 3,528 in a square inch. Now, each of these pores being the aperture of a little tube of about a quarter of an inch long, it follows, that in a square inch of skin on the palm of the hand, there exists a length of tube equal to 882 inches, or 73 feet. On the pulps of the fingers, where the ridges of the sensitive layer of the true skin are somewhat finer than in the palm of the hand, the number of pores on a square inch a little exceeds that of the palm; and on the heel, where the ridges are coarser, the number of pores on the square inch was 2,268, and the length of tube 567 inches, or 47 feet. To obtain an estimate of the length of tube of the perspiratory system of the whole surface of the body, I think that 2,800 might be taken as a fair average of the number of pores in the square inch, and 700, consequently, of the number of inches in length. Now, the number of square inches of surface in a man of ordinary height and bulk is 2,500; the number of pores, therefore, 7,000,000, and the number of inches of perspiratory tube 1,750,000, that is 145,833 feet, or 48,600 yards, or nearly twenty-eight miles!"

When the skin is in a healthy state, and kept free from impurities, it throws off exactly that amount of moisture which is necessary for bodily comfort and the preservation of health. Perspiration is going on at all times; and if suddenly checked, the body is soon thrown into a state of high fever. We are not, however, always conscious of it; hence the term insensible perspiration. It is only after violent exercise, or exposure to a high temperature, that the perspiration becomes excessive and sensible. And it may here be remarked, that besides performing the office of an excretory organ, the skin also, by the process of perspiration, acts as a regulator of the temperature of the body. The watery particles, which are thrown off mostly in vapour, carry off its surplus heat, in obedience to that law by which fluids absorb caloric on assuming the gaseous form.

Some idea of the important uses of the skin, as an excretory organ, may be formed from the fact, that the insensible perspiration of the adult amounts to between two and three pounds daily. In warm weather, and

during exercise or hard work, the amount perspired is, of course, very much greater. Many operatives, who work in heated rooms, or are exposed to engine-fires, throw off through the skin perspirable matter to the amount of some twenty pounds in the day.

connection with their works, for the use of those in their employment. There are three baths, each forty-seven feet long and twelve wide, one of which is for men, another for women, and a third for children. Mr. Samuel Greg, of Bollington, has also erected, at a cost of only about eighty pounds, seven baths for the use of his workpeople, copiously supplied with hot and cold water. Admission to these baths is by means of tickets, for which a penny is charged; subscribers pay a shilling a month, for which five baths weekly are allowed. These receipts go to pay the bath-keepers' and attendants' wages. An arrangement of the same kind has been adopted at the splendid establishment of the Messrs. Marshall, at Leeds. All masters would do a great public service by following the examples of these men.

But even though the masters fail to take the initiative in the establishment of baths for the working classes, we would have the workmen themselves to set about the thing, relying mainly on their own exertions. The examples of the operatives of Glasgow, Edinburgh, and other towns in Scotland, where the working classes have themselves established public baths, ought to act as incentives to the working classes in other places. We are glad also to observe, that public bathing and washing-houses are being estab lished on a large scale, through the generous aid of the upper and middle classes, in London, Liverpool, Manchester, Birmingham, and other large towns in England. In this movement the Bishop of London has taken a distinguished and highly creditable part.

An interesting experiment has been recorded by Dr. Southwood Smith, in his " Philosophy of Health," showing the extraordinary activity of the skin both as an organ of exhalation and absorption. Eight of the workmen employed at the Phoenix Gas-works, London, in drawing and charging the retorts, and in making up the fires, which labour they perform twice a-day, and for about an hour at a time, were accurately weighed in their clothes immediately before they began, and after they had finished their work. In one case, two men, who worked for an hour and ten minutes in a very hot place, were found to have lost, the one four pounds fourteen ounces, and the other five pounds two ounces, within that very short period. The same men were immediately put into a hot-bath, where they remained half an hour; and, on being re-weighed after coming out of the bath, it was found that they had again gained all the weight that they had lost, with the exception of a few ounces. Several of the men were also weighed at intervals of some months, and it appeared, that while some of them had lost in average weight, others of them had considerably gained. The perspiration, when it passes through the skin, carries with it saline and animal matters, which are precipitated and left on the skin, from which they can be thoroughly removed only by the process of washing. When baths are not accessible, an excellent substitute When these matters are not so removed, they accumu-may be adopted in daily sponging the whole surface of late, and by the absorbing power of the skin, to which the body with cold or tepid water. Every workman, we have above referred, parts of them are again carried especially whose occupation exposes him to impurity, or into the system, where there is every reason to believe excites his skin to copious perspiration, ought regularly that they act as a poison, more or less virulent according to practise this method of washing, when a daily bath to circumstances, producing fever, inflammation, and even cannot be had. It keeps the skin clean, and preserves death itself. Hence the importance of frequent ablu- the body from disease by case-hardening it, as it were, tions, of warm or cold baths, and of cleanliness and against vicissitudes both in temperature and humidity. washing of all sorts.

The bath is as yet far too little known in England, where, on account of the humidity of our climate, its general use would prove of great public benefit. Nowhere are these necessities of healthy life more required than in our large towns and cities; for there the immense quantities of soot and smoke with which the atmosphere is impregnated, seek their way through the clothes, defiling the linen, flannel, and skin, and rendering frequent and regular ablution necessary in order to secure any ordinary degree of purity and cleanliness.

The occupations of large numbers of our operatives, also, are necessarily among materials which defile the skin; and, in many cases, they work among matters that are decidedly poisonous if absorbed into the system. It is far from being a reproach to the workman that his hands and his body bear the indications of his honest labour; there is honour, high honour, in industry of all kinds, no matter howsoever it soil the skin. But, after all, this is only one of the accidents and accompaniments of labour; and after the hours of daily toil are over, the defilement is removable. The hands and the skin may be washed, and for this purpose abundance of pure water, and cheap and easy access to public baths, ought to be within the reach of the operatives and artisans of all large towns.

We need scarcely remind our readers of the moral as well as physical beauty of cleanliness-cleanliness which indicates self-respect, and is the root of many fine virtues and especially of purity, delicacy, and decency. We might even go farther, and say, that purity of thought and feeling result from habitual purity of body. For, the mind and heart of man are, to a very great extent indeed, influenced by external conditions and circumstances; and habit and custom, as regards outward things, stamp themselves deeply on the whole character,-alike upon the moral feelings and the intellectual powers. It is not, we believe, too much to say, that the cleanly habits of persons will induce cleanly habits of thinking, and we fear it may very generally be pronounced with truth, that the body that is habitually dirty will have a mind that is dirty.

Among the eastern nations, cleanliness is a part of their religion; they go beyond the Apostle of the Christian faith, and esteem it not only as next to godliness, but as a part itself of godliness. They connect the idea of internal sanctity with that of external purification. They feel that it would be an insult to the Maker they worship, to come into His presence covered with impurity. Hence the Mahommedans devote almost as much care to the erection of baths, as to that of mosques; and alongside of the place of worship is generally found erected the place of cleansing, that the faithful may have the ready means of purification previous to their acts of worship.

Nothing would be easier than to establish baths in connection with most large workshops and factories. In almost all of them there is a steam-engine and plenty of And "what worship," says a great writer, "is there hot water, which is at present allowed to run entirely to not in mere washing! perhaps one of the most moral waste. This might easily be saved for the supply of things a man, in common cases, has it in his power to warm baths for the workpeople, which might be con- do. Strip thyself, go into the bath, or were it into the structed at a very small expense. Already several limpid pool of a running brook, and there wash and be large manufacturers, anxious to promote the health and clean, thou wilt step out again a purer and a better man. comfort of their workpeople, have erected baths for their This consciousness of perfect outer pureness-that to thy accommodation. The Messrs. Catterall and Co., of skin there now adheres no foreign speck of imperfection Preston, recently opened a series of spacious baths in-how it radiates on thee, with cunning symbolic in

Pride had, at the moment, prevented my asking for an explanation; that, I thought, ought to have been given unsought; and I determined not to ask Lady why

my

visit was evidently so unwelcome.

fluences to thy very soul! thou hast an increased ten-bank by the side of the river, the most miserable of men. The oldest dency towards all good things whatsoever. I, who, one half-hour before, was the happiest of men, eastern sages, with joy and holy gratitude, had felt it to now, unaccountably, unutterably wretched. be so, and that it was the Maker's gift and will. It remained a religious duty in the East. Nor could Herr Professor Strauss, when I put the question, deny that To for us, at present, it is still such here in the West. that dingy operative emerging from his soot-mill, what is the first duty I will prescribe, and offer help towards? That he clean the skin of him. Can he pray by any ascertained method? One knows not to a certainty; but with a sufficiency of soap and water, he can wash. Even the dull English feel something of that; they have a saying, Cleanliness is near of kin to godliness;' yet never, in any country, saw I men worse washed, and in a climate drenched with the softest cloud-water, such a scarcity of baths."

We are in a fair way, however, of removing this reproach. Baths are now becoming more common, in public places as well as in private houses. Every effort should be made to promote the progress of this movement-water should be supplied in abundance to the inhabitants of towns at low rates-the tax on soap, which is a tax on cleanliness, should be abolished-and all classes should cordially unite to promote the general establishment of baths and washhouses, as a means towards the increased happiness, morality, education, and even religious progress, of the entire community.

THE BARONET'S STORY.

I

THE following story was related to me by an old friend, an Irish baronet, and, as far as my memory serves, will give it to you in his own words:

About four months after my marriage it was my wont, each morning after breakfast, to stroll about my gardens and fields until, perhaps, one o'clock, at which hour I returned home to enjoy my wife's society, and, when the weather permitted, we occasionally took a walk or ride.

One morning, feeling myself not quite well, I returned much earlier than usual, about eleven o'clock, and went into the house by a back entrance: as neither knocking nor ringing announced my arrival, my wife was not aware of my return.

But, thenceforth, I resolved to keep a watchful eye upon her. A thousand cruel thoughts crowded upon me, now that I discovered there was something which my wife con cealed from me; she-whom I thought so artless, so free from all duplicity.

At this period I had attained my thirtieth year. Lady

was only two years younger than myself; but, from her sweet and girlish style of beauty, and gay, happy manner, no one would suppose her more than twenty. She had been educated on the Continent. I knew that, soon after leaving school, she had received matrimonial proposals,-if she had not been actually engaged to a gentleman,-before quitting Paris. Hitherto, this circumstance had never given me the slightest uneasiness; but now my thoughts involuntarily reverted to it; it haunted me day and night.

Between my wife and her maid there was an unusual intimacy, owing, as I understood, to the latter being, what is called, an old follower of the family. This woman was one of the tallest I ever saw, and large in proportion: her face was handsome, the features strongly defined, her eyes large, intensely dark and penetrating; her long black ringlets looked false; in appearance you would have said that she was nearer fifty than forty. This person, with her erect figure, was, taken altogether, what many would pronounce a very fine woman, but

somewhat masculine.

Having described my wife's maid, how shall I tell you of the horrible suspicion which seized upon my imagination! -her

I thought perchance this maidforeign lover in disguise!

-was

And yet I did not, could not believe it, though the frightful idea never absented itself from my brain. To hint such a thought to my beautiful Agnes, my beloved wife, I could never bring myself. I strove, rather, to banish the idea from my mind as a suggestion of Satan.

From that day I became much changed, both in the I sought her first in the drawing-room, but not finding outward and inward man. My happiness was gone, my her there, proceeded to her bed-room, and, whilst passing naturally light and cheerful manner gave place to irritathrough my dressing-room to it, I was surprised by ability and gloom. Time flew on, days and weeks passed sudden rush to the bed-room door, which was instantly without any particular occurrence, until one morning, bolted from within. I distinctly heard a low whispering, having arranged to accompany a gentleman in the neighand, as I thought, a hurried receding step; yet, altogether bourhood on a fisting excursion, I informed Agnes that I was not kept waiting more than a few seconds; my I should not return until evening, when I would bring wife's maid opened the door, when, to my greater per- my friend to dinner. Immediately after breakfast, off plexity, I beheld my wife's usually pale face suffused with we started in a dog-cart. We had not proceeded more crimson blushes; I also detected her maneuvering a than four miles, when, in turning a corner of the road, a comb through her hair, to hide, as I instantly suspected, boy, who was shooting sparrows, fired so near to the her blushes from me, or her disordered curls. horse's head that it took fright and dashed off at a furious gallop, nor stopped until we were upset into a ditch. We were compelled to give up our day's excursion, and leaving the groom to take care of the bruised horse, my friend and I walked smartly home by a short cut, and entering the house, after conducting my friend into the drawing-room, I hastened up stairs to relate our disaster to Agnes. When, as I again passed through my dressing. room, the door was again bolted, and I distinctly heard my wife say, with a faultering voice, "He is returned; we are discovered!" The scales fell from my eyes, I had no longer any doubt, my worst fears were realized!

"What is the meaning of all this," thought I; "it is strange! The maid, too, looks confused and frightened." My wife did not hasten to meet me with her usual sunny welcome; there was not even one smile to greet At length, recovering herself a little, she, with a hesitating manner, said-" Well, love, how goes on the farm?"

me.

But I was grieved; for the first time in my life, I felt that I was not welcome. I felt something was going on that I was not to know; so, merely saying, "I will tell you when we meet in the drawing-room," I abruptly quitted her.

Not knowing whither I was going, or why I suffered so sudden, so frightful a revolution of feelings, I hurried down stairs, rushed through the hall, across the lawn, and plunged into the fir-path that leads to a sequestered part of the grounds; nor did I slacken my pace until I was fully a mile from the house, when I threw myself upon the green

Oh, the agony of that moment! I staggered back a few paces, my head recled, my heart felt bursting, and I had well nigh fallen to the ground, when a frenzy of despair and rage seizing me, I made one rush at the door, and roared for instant admittance. Agnes opened the door and stood trembling before me; her attendant flew to the furthest end of the apartment. I dashed my