there is a greater curiosity in the whole world than this same human hand. Yet, who thinks much about it?

The truth is, many of the best, as well as the most curious objects in the world, are neglected in the same manner. Think of the thousand uses of water. What living thing could exist without it? Yet do we think much of all this; or are we even thankful for so valuable a gift?

The bones represented in the engraving are those of the left hand; and you look upon the top or upper side of it. The foot is also inserted here in the same position, but has been described in another place. See Chap. II.

The whole hard and wrist contain twenty-seven bones; nineteen in the former, and eight in the latter. The bones in the hand have a general resemblance, though some are much longer than others. The four longest, opposite to figure 1, support the palm of the hand, and are joined at one end to the wrist-bones, and at the other, to the first joint of the fingers. The junction of these bones is effected, as are all the other joints of the body, by means of cartilaginous tips, which allow of free motion, and are strongly secured by ligaments. This series is called the metacarpal bones.

The bones of the wrist are called the carpal bones. They are situated between the ulna (5) and the radius (6) at the one end, and the metacarpal bones and the first bone of the thumb, on the other. They are wedged together like the stones of a pavement, only not quite so firmly; each bone being tipped with cartilage, and sustained by strong ligaments, which unite it to its fellows. All the bones which compose the wrist have had names given to them by anatomists, from their supposed resemblance to other objects; but as the enumeration of these names is quite needless in a work of this nature, they are omitted. It is only necessary to mention, that the bony structure of the wrist is of an arch-like form, with the convexity corresponding to the upper or back part of the hand. This configuration creates both additional strength and flexibility.

The first four bones of the fingers, opposite figure 2, are the longest. Those opposite 3 are shorter; the last, or those marked 4, are shorter still. The thumb has one bone less than the fingers. All the joints of the handand there are fourteen, besides the wrist-are hingejoints, and the ends of the bones are made a little like

some of our door hinges, but they only bend in one direction. Where the fingers join to the metacarpal bones, there is much more freedom of motion than at the hinge-like finger joints, but the joint at the wrist admits of motion very freely in every direction.

The bones of the hand are not quite so naked as they appear in the engraving, and when dressed up with muscles, tendons, membranes, nerves, arteries, and veins, and furnished with skin and nails, in a manner which I cannot now fully describe, the whole presents a most beautiful appearance. Beautiful and useful as it is

however, and placed before our eyes from the time we see the light till we sleep in death, there are few things in the whole visible world, of which not only young persons, but adults also, are so ignorant!

So important is the human hand, as a member of the system, that Sir Charles Bell's Bridgewater Treatise—a pretty large volume-is wholly devoted to a description of it. I will make a short extract from that admirable work.

'The difference in the length of the fingers serves a thousand purposes, adapting the hands and fingers, as in holding a rod, a switch, a sword, a hammer, a pen or pencil, engraving tool, &c., in all which a secure hold and freedom of motion are admirably combined. Nothing is more remarkable than the manner in which the delicate and moving apparatus of the palm and fingers is guarded. The power with which the hand grasps, as when a sailor lays hold to raise his body to the rigging, would be too great for the texture of mere tendons, nerves, and vessels; they would be crushed, were not every part that bears the pressure defended with a cushion of fat, as elastic as that in the foot of the

horse and the camel. To add to this, there is a muscle which runs across the palm of the hand, and supports the cushion on the inner edge. It is this muscle which, raising the inner edge of the palm, forms the drinkingcup of Diogenes.'

Uses of the Hand.-Small as this member of the frame is, it is a part of the utmost consequence. Without it, the farmer could not sow his grain, or plant his corn, or weed it, or hoe it while growing, or collect it when ripe; nor, if it were grown, could the miller grind it, nor the baker make it into bread. Neither could we raise anything to eat in its stead. We might get on for a few years with what is already raised; but what then? The roots and fruits which grow without cultivation-I mean without our labour-would not last very long for ourselves, and the thousands of beasts and birds which feed upon them.

Do you say that, if we could get nothing else to eat, we might then kill and eat animals? But we could not catch them. How could we?

Besides all this, the tailor could not make us clothes, nor the hatter and milliner hats and bonnets, nor the shoemaker boots and shoes. We should be obliged to go naked, summer and winter, in all climates; for we could not get even the skins of animals.

Then, again, we could not write to others for help, even if there were anybody capable of helping us. Neither could the mariner seek a cargo of food in other countries; for he could not spread his sails, or guide the helm of his vessel. In short, we could do nothing long, to any purpose; but after gazing awhile upon each other's starving and emaciated frames, we should all lie together in one common tomb-and that tomb would be

the surface of the earth, arched over with the blue canopy of the heavens; for nobody could be buried.

Some may think this representation of the sad case we should be in, rather exaggerated. We should not be such helpless creatures.' You may perhaps say Why, there is a story, about a French woman, who was without hands, and yet she could do a great many sorts of work, and even write, draw, and sew.' Yes, and the story was undoubtedly true. I have heard stories like it before. I have heard of a man in the same condition, who could write with his breast. His pen was fastened to a girdle, and then he could dip it in the ink, and write very well with it.

But these are extraordinary cases, in which Nature is permitted, for some reason which we cannot divine, to depart from her established laws. Such occurrences, however, no more prove that people, constituted as we are, could live upon this earth without the aid of their hands, than does the existence among his fellow-creatures of a person afflicted with blindness, show that all could flourish without the use of their eyesight. The individuals already mentioned could not have made for themselves the pens and pencils to write and draw with, or the needles to sew with, nor could the man have placed the pen in his girdle; and there are a thousand other necessary things which they could not do.

The human tongue is spoken of by an inspired writer, as being a 'little member,' yet boasting great things. So this small member of the frame which we are talking of is a 'little' affair, but gr eat things depend upon it. It is a sort of connecting link, that serves to bind the human soul to the habitation it occupies for a few years -rarely reaching to a hundred. Without it, or neglect