Corpulence and slovenliness are generally among the more prolific sources of a want of acuteness in feeling. The first is a disease, and may be avoided by a proper diet, and by active mental and bodily employment. Slovenliness we may of course avoid, whenever there is a wish to do so, and an abundance of water.

But the sense of feeling, or especially that accumulation of it which we call TOUCH, and which seems to be specially located in the balls of the fingers and on the palm of the hand, is susceptible of a degree of improvement far beyond what would be the natural result of cleanliness, and freedom from plethora or corpulence.

I have already alluded, in my general remarks at the head of this chapter, to the acuteness of this sense in the blind, as well as in the dealer in cloths. I might add many more illustrations, but a single one, in relation to the blind, which was accidentally omitted in that place, will be sufficient.

The blind at the Institution in this city, as well as in other similar institutions, are now taught to read and write with considerable facility. But how? Most of my readers may have heard how they read, but I will describe the process as well as I can. A description of their method of writing is more difficult.

The letters are formed by pressing the paper, while quite moist, upon rather large type, which raises a ridge in the line of every letter, and which remains prominent after the paper is dry. In order to read, the pupil has to feel out these ridges. A circular ridge on the paper he is told is O; a perpendicular one, I; a crooked one, S; &c. They read music and arithmetic printed in a similar manner. A few months of practice, in this way, will enable an ingenious youth to read with considerable ease and despatch.

Now if nothing is wanting but a little training to render the touch so accurate, would it not be useful to train every child to judge frequently of the properties of bodies by this sense? And cannot every one recall to his mind a thousand situations in which a greater accuracy of this sense would have saved him much inconvenience, as well as afforded him no little pleasure?

I shall conclude this section with a few remarks on the HAND. The custom of neglecting, or almost neglecting the left hand, though nearly universal, in this country at least, appears to me to be wrong—decidedly so. For although more blood may be sent to the right arm than to the left, as physiologists say, yet the difference is not as great at birth as it is afterward; so that education either weakens the one or strengthens the other.

Besides this, we occasionally find a person who is left-handed, as it is called; that is, his left hand and arm are as much larger and stronger than the right, as the right is usually stronger than the left. How is this? Do we find a corresponding change in the internal structure? But suppose it could be ascertained that such a change did exist, which I believe has never been done, the question would still arise whether the difference was the same at birth, or whether the more frequent use of the left hand has not, in part, produced it.

I do not mean, here, to intimate that a more frequent use of the left hand than the right would make new blood-vessels grow where there were none before. But it would certainly do one thing; it would make the same vessels carry more blood than they did before, which is, in effect, nearly the same thing:—for the more blood in the limb, as a general rule, the more strength—provided the limb is in due health and exercise.

The inference which I wish the reader to make from all this is, that since the left hand and arm, by due cultivation, and without essential difference or change of structure to begin with, can occasionally be made stronger than the right, it is fair to conclude that it may, if found desirable, be always rendered more nearly equal to it than, in adult years, we usually find it.

The question is now fairly before us—Is such a result desirable? I maintain that it is; and shall endeavor to show my reasons.

How often is one hand injured by an accident, or rendered nearly useless by disease? But if it should be the right, how helpless it makes us! The man who is accustomed to shave himself, must now resort to a barber. If he is a barber himself, or almost any other mechanic, his business must be discontinued. Or if he is a clerk, he cannot use his left hand, and must consequently lose his time. Or if amputation chances to be performed on a favorite arm, how entirely useless to society we are, till we have learned to use the other! It not only takes up a great deal of valuable time to acquire a facility of using it, but if we are already arrived at maturity, we can never use it so well as the other, during our whole lives; because it is too late in life to increase its size and strength much by constant exercise. Whereas in youth, it might have been done easily.

Is it not then important—for these and many more reasons—to teach a child to use with nearly equal readiness, both of his hands? But if so, who can do it better than the mother? And when can it be better done than in the earliest infancy? When is the time which would be devoted to it worth less than at this period?