NATURE'S MASTER-PIECE. other delicacies. We could not but mark the difference between the fashionables and MECHANISM OF THE HUMAN BODY. the inquiring multitude. How the former How Poon, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how WONDERFUL is MAN! How passing wonder HE who made him such! YOUNG. WISDOM! thou gift of God, thou thing Divine, Convert my humble soul into thy shrine! G F. OSBORNE. REAT, SURPASSINGLY GREAT AND MARVELLOUS, are the many objects that pass under our eye from day to day; whether we regard the animal, vegetable, or mineral worlds. Turn where we may, a new wonder awaits us. The finger of God is above us, below us; on our right and on our left. This remark holds good throughout the year, but at this lovely season in particular. One would reasonably imagine that the study of such wonderful objects would be universal -at all events among people who have been what is called liberally educated; and that their lives would be spent in the happy pursuit of knowledge that would fill their minds with surprise, wonder, adoration, and praise. But no! These pursuits are, strange to say, comparatively neglected. Until very recently it was deemed quite unfashionable,-nay vulgar, for people of taste to acknowledge any intimate acquaintance with the structure of plants or the habits of animals. They called each plant and each animal by its assigned name, and cared not to inquire further,deeming all such common-place observations the duty of a gardener, florist, and professed ornithologist. In fact, there was no love felt either towards the plant or the bird. The one was an ornament to the room, and the other a lively companion. These degrading feelings are even yet but too common in so-called refined society, as everybody is but too well aware. This is a delicate subject, perhaps, to handle; but we are a great advocate for probing every wound, and tracing it to its source. This most singular indifference to the works of the great Creator, and to our progress in civilisation, was extraordinarily apparent at the late "Great Exhibition of all Nations." Instead of finding the higher classes busily engaged here, in examining the wonderful machinery by means of which the elegancies of life are supplied; and gazing on the wondrous contributions sent in from all parts of the world, we found them invariably parading about the building as creatures of fashion-listlessly and indifferently saunter: ing through the rooms as a work of formal every-day duty; and glad to repair to the Refectory, to solace themselves with ice and VOL. IV.-5. yawned, and frittered away their time—whilst the latter availed themselves of each passing moment to see everything that was to be seen, and were unceasing in asking questions. May the time quickly arrive when the acquisition of the useful knowledge we have been hinting at may not be considered vulgar, and when all the works of our Creator may be thought worthy of investigation! The theme to which we are anxious to direct the present attention of our readers, is the wonderful construction of the human body. We touched upon this in our FIRST VOLUME (p. 133), and pointed out the great dangers arising from the want of a due consideration and proper knowledge of our structure and organisation. However indifferent people may show themselves to other proofs of their Creator's power and goodness; in this matter, to be ignorant is to be guilty of a great offence. We have no wish to-day, to speak of the reciprocal influence of the soul upon the body, and the body upon the soul;-wonderful though this sweet influence be. There is a wisdom displayed herein, which we cannot properly fathom. Indeed, the result of our profoundest investigations into the exquisite union existing between body and soul, cannot end in anything but admiration and astonishment. We may feel what we cannot express. We may be lost in praise, when our thoughts are denied the power of utter ance. But we may lawfully and profitably consider the structure of our frame. A most convenient opportunity now offers for this, by the return of Dr. KAHN from the provinces. This gentleman has just re-opened his grand ANATOMICAL MUSEUM at the Portland Gallery, Regent Street, and we observe that he has made some valuable additions to his already large collection of objects. Our readers will remember that we noticed this most useful Exhibition (if we may so term it) in our First Volume (see p. 134),-directing special attention to it, and requesting fathers, brothers, and mothers to pay it an early visit. This we urge upon them now, more than They may learn more, here, in the course of six hours, than they might per ever. This was commented on, at much length, and very piquantly, by our contemporaries, the Times in particular. The "butterflies of fashion," they minent seats in the building, to "show off on," reremarked, who selected for themselves the ,proceived an intelligible hint by the removal of these seats to more private recesses, this compelling them to keep moving "if they wanted to be seen. Such was the fact.-ED. K. J. F haps ever learn, otherwise, in the course of a long life. They are shown what Man is from his early infancy;-how formed, how protected by the ever vigilant, kind, loving hand of God, who foresaw what must befall him in this lower world, and who provided accordingly. The heart which could enter these spacious rooms, and look with a philosophic eye on their contents without a feeling of gratitude, adoration, and praise (to say nothing of wonder, admiration, fear, and intense thoughtfulness), must be harder than a millstone-unworthy a place in the human breast. We consider the opening of this Exhibition a national benefit. Nor are these humanising objects, these startling facts connected with the enjoyment of our very being, kept from the eye of women. No! For their use and instruction in particular are very many objects prepared, which (there must be no fastidiousness in such matters) it is a positive duty for them to view in all their details. Mrs. Leach (on certain days in the week) kindly explains these; and, with a feeling which does her infinite honor, rarely fails to impress upon the female mind the immense importance of the object which these models were made to point out. Dr. Leach is equally eloquent in his explanations and lectures to gentlemen visitors. We are glad always to find in the rooms a goodly number of these; and to note how, for the most part, they carefully examine the amiable mysteries of nature complex yet simple. Some people wonder at the bodily deformity that exists amongst us. They are surprised when they behold so many misshapen legs, heads, and bodies. They marvel at the serious amount of illness that prevails amongst us. Let such people pay a visit to Dr. Kahn's Museum, and their wonder will cease. Habited as our women ever have been, worshipping that heathen god-" Fashion, as they still do, their offspring must be unhealthy. Deformity, too, the natural consequence of tight-lacing, is entirely at tributable to them; as well as the long, fearful catalogue of other ailments to which we are all in turn subjected. These are "facts" -proved in Dr. Kahn's rooms beyond the power of contradiction. Is our pen then to be blamed for its honesty in thrusting so remorselessly at the hydra-Fashion? We may just add to these remarks, that among the models exhibited is one (the size of life) of a human body. This is, within and without, an exact copy from life. The veins, muscles, arteries, &c., are all shown. The lungs, heart, liver, and every other part of the internal frame, are moveable. They are taken out by the lecturer, systematically, one by one, and their uses and action are minutely explained. This alone is worth a visit. It is a sight which everybody ought to see-everybody ought to ponder upon. No words of ours can give more than an idea of its nature or importance. Well might the Sweet Singer of Israel exclaim, in the fulness of his holy admiration"I will praise Thee, O God, for I AM FEARFULLY AND WONDERFULLY MADE!" THE WRONG LETTER-BOX. AFFECTION is the Deity's best gift- WE ARE GREAT OBSERVERS OF HUMAN NATURE; and we dearly love to trace her operations in those who are a few degrees lot is cast. We have many opportunities removed from the sphere in which our own for this; and we delight to breathe in such a wholesome atmosphere. We are glad to note a similar feeling in a brother Editor residing in America, who thus writes in the United States Gazette : Amusing incidents often occur by persons mistaking the letter-box of stores and offices in this vicinity, for that of the post-office. We sometimes find three or four letters in our own letter-box, intended for the mails. These we, of course, put on their way. observed a young woman whose face was not Standing once at our front window, we visible to us, drop a letter into our box; and on taking it out, we found that she had mistaken our establishment for that of a postoffice. It was directed to Thomas Ireland, and the inland postage accompanied it. The letter we caused to be sent with some others to the post-office, and gave the circumstance no further thought. in Busied some months afterwards in examining the contents of our exchange papers, and inditing such paragraphs as they suggested to us, we did not pay much attention to a gentle rap at the door of our private room, until it was repeated. We then, too anxious to conclude our labors to open to the applicant, bade the one that knocked " come in," and continued our labors without lifting an eye to the door, which was opened quietly, and as quietly closed. We were startled at length with a sweetly modulated voice, inquiring" Is there a letter here for me?" We at once raised our eyes, and saw a female about eighteen years of age-or, as we have of late lost the art of judging closely in these matters, perhaps twenty. It did not make a dimple's difference to her face, and would not, if five more years had been added to them. There was an oval face, with nature's blush, and a slight projection of the mouth that told of Ireland, even without the softened modulation of voice -he may have written." among the passengers of the Liverpool packets, being commonly included in that comprehensive line," and two hundred in the steerage." So we gave up all hopes of knowing when Thomas would arrive, but concluded that we should see the name with that of Catherine in the marriage list, to which we had determined to keep a steady look. * It was but a short time afterwards, that we did indeed see the name of Thomas in the papers. He was one of the passengers in a ship cast away below New York, of whom nearly every soul perished, and Thomas among the rest. We had never seen Thomas, but had somehow cherished such an interest in his fate, that we felt a severe shock at its annunciation; and what must have been the feelings of Catherine, with her ardent, sanguine, Irish temperament? Loving deeply as she must have loved, and hoping ardently as she must have hoped, what must have been her feelings? We paused, a few weeks afterwards, to mark the young grass shooting, green and thick, in Ronaldson's grave yard; and to see the buds swelling on the branches of the trees that decorate that populous city of the dead; when a funeral, numerously attended, wound slowly round the corner of the street, and passed into the enclosure. It was the funeral of an Irish person-we knew by the numbers that attended, and as the sexton lowered the coffin down into the narrow house, the place appointed for all the living, we saw engraved upon a simple plate,— "Then where's the letter? " said she, CATHERINE M'INNES. looking up. "At the post-office, perhaps." And we took Catherine by the hand, and led her to the door, and pointed out the way to the post-office. You will ask at the window," said we; "but as the clerks are young men, you need not tell them from whom you expect the letter." "Not for the world," said she, looking into our face with a glance that seemed to say there was no harm in telling us. We must have used less than our usual precision in directing Catherine to the postoffice, as quite half-an-hour afterwards, when visiting the place, we saw her at the window, receiving the change and a letter from one of the clerks; and the impatience-shall we say of woman, or of love?-induced Catherine to break the seal at the door. A glow of pleasure was on the cheek of the happy girl. We would not have given a penny to be informed that Thomas was well, and was coming in the next packet. We felt anxious to know whether Thomas would come, but the names of such persons rarely appear The small sum of money which Catherine had deposited in the savings' fund, to give a little consequence to her marriage festival, had been withdrawn to give her "decent burial." There is a spice of this fine feeling among our ENGLISH girls of low degree. We do not say it is universal,-far from it. But we can vouch that it does exist, having oftentimes proved it. True love, in the intenseness of its purity, is indeed a Heavenly gift! MORE PERSUASIVES TO GOODNESS. IF we want any extra "inducement" to become good, do we not find that inducement in everything we at this present time behold in the fields and lovely lanes, which are clothed in garments of surpassing beauty? Every animal, every insect that crosses our path, looks, and is "happy." The fascinating elegance, and seems to give "a hint " golden grain waves its lovely locks with the most to its fair beholders to "take a lesson from its book." The Book of Nature is the ONLY book, it would appear, that our ladies do not read. Why should they not begin this very day to turn over the first leaf? TRUE HAPPINESS. BY HELEN HETHERINGTON. GIVE ME the home where the sun's gentle beams Peep through my lattice, when springtide is nigh; Or, with the summer, reflect on the streams of "Fashion's" dictates in this matter, ought to be stoutly resisted by every pretty face. It is an outrage on nature, an insult to the human face divine. Beauty should be respected-not annihilated.* When we were a boy, things were widely different. A charming face used to be A glimpse of its bright happy home in the sky."naturally" set off by free, flowing rows of I sigh not for Power, nor languish for Wealth, My jewels I'll seek where the vi'let and rose, Where bright crystal dew-drops on lilies repose, My heart shall respond to the dove's plaintive tale, clustering curls, which hung so lovingly down. an innocent cheek (cheeks, alas! now-a-days, are not "innocent ")-that they held us pleasingly spell-bound. Oh! those enchanting ringlets, and the fascinating endearments of their pretty, modest owners! The human figure, too, was then respected. Our hearts were fairly captivated by the true "line of beauty." Women seemed to be aware, in those happy days, that they were gifted with lovely forms; and they delighted in letting us see them in their pure, innocent development. We could get near them then; converse with them; make much of them; enjoy their society; read to them; reason with them; play with them-in a word, we could LOVE them. But the times have changed, and our women have changed with them. Nature has succumbed to Art, and the penalty has fallen heavily on those who would love the gentle sex, but cannot. What we want is, during this age of "striking," to see our women "strike." A bold resistance on their part, and a vow to stand out to the last against the inhuman caprices of Fashion, must be followed by a beneficial result. Our WE HAVE NO WISH TO COMPARE all that * Since this was in type, our eye has fallen our heart holds dear to a crocodile. No! But we would fain compare the modern upon the following very sensible remarks, which appear in our ever-watchful contemporary, the attire worn by all whom our heart holds dear, Sheffield Free-Press. "It is notorious that fashion to that hideous animal. Oh, if we could but does not aim at beauty, but at uniformity (and deget the wearers to reflect; and to gaze more-formity). And herein we must unceremoniously over on their reflection, as seen in a mirror would not our joy be complete! One glance would suffice. A second would not be politic; for we verily believe that the fair beholder of her deformed person would, by taking "a second sight," incontinently die of fright. This is a humane view of the innate (though as yet undeveloped) good taste of the sex called gentle. We are not to-day going over the ground Our ex we have so often before trodden. attack our aristocratical or courtly classes, who in specimens of this uniform deformity; nor do ness. sensible men say that "English women have no minds;" and they prove this assertion by pointing to the deformity of their persons, both at home and abroad. Walking or riding, the picture, we confess, is a painful one to look at.* "bark;" could, but we can't. Yet we can too But we are wandering. The disfigurement of the human head and face are what we are now discussing. The remarks of a writer in "Blackwood" shall assist us. He is a man of good taste, and speaks out quite to the point. "How often," says he, "do we see Whilst women show such an inveterate a good face made quite ugly by a total in- enmity against Nature (let us be very attention to lines! Sometimes the hair is so candid), one half at least of their loveliness pushed into the cheeks and squared at the sad thought! is kept quite out of sight. forehead, as to give a most extraordinary pinched shape to the face. Let the oval, we say, where it exists, be always preserved. Where it does not, let the hair be so humored that the deficiency shall not be perceived. "Nothing is more common than to see a face which is somewhat too large below, made to look grossly large and coarse, by contracting the hair on the forehead and cheeks, and there bringing it to an abrupt check! Whereas, such a face should enlarge the forehead and the cheek; and let the hair fall partially over, so as to shade and soften off the lower exuberance. Some, too, press the hair down close to the face, which is to lose the very characteristic of hair-ease and freedom. Many ladies wear the hair like blinkers. You always expect these nondescripts will shy if you approach them." The foregoing remarks are perfectly just. Nothing charms like simplicity. We dearly love to see a maiden come Tripping lightly forth, TRUE FRIENDSHIP, THE JOYS Of FRIENDSHIP hear me sing! TRUE Friendship I sing-not the tide of applause True Friendship I sing. Not the smile that endears While malevolence rankles at heart; Where no want is, each good to impart. Not the blush so enchanting on woman's fair cheek, If, in colors like these, Envy refuge should seek, Not the air consequential, that gives double weight As the miser that parts with his gold. With all her budding blossomings of Spring-Not Profession, for she walks the last in her train, And what can be more perfectly-more alabaster neck. See! They dip like darkness on a snow-wreath Which they cannot darken quite, Too well do we know with what an iron grasp When the Goddess in triumph appears; True Friendship I sing-an unbounding desire To cherish and warm the distressed. For the mind that exults in affections that meet Let meek-ey'd Precaution, then, slowly prefer With reluctance still part with a friend. Q. |