Part 14

The mode in which sensitiveness to touch and to pain are adjusted in the hand and in the eye in relation to the functions of these two organs is one of the admirable features of their construction. Suppose the disposition to have been reversed--suppose the hand to have been as tender as the eye--of what use would it have been? The contact of a particle of dust would have caused agony; or, had the eye been no more sentient than the hand, it would soon have been destroyed by the chafing of foreign bodies upon its delicate surface.

How important is the sense of Feeling! more important than any of the other senses; more so than all the others taken together. It is almost universal in the animal kingdom. Indeed, we can scarcely conceive animal existence without it, and are slow to admit that to be an animal which shows no sign of it. Several of the lower animals seem to be destitute of any of the other senses. The POLYPS, for instance, have no sight, hearing, taste, or smell, and are dependent, therefore, entirely, upon feeling for their communication with the external world; and the range of this sense is extended in them by means of their “tentacles” or “feelers” which wave about in the water, and, when they come in contact with foreign bodies, close upon them and draw them towards the oral opening. Thus, the tentacle of the polyp is a sort of rudimentary hand, and, by the aid of feeling, fulfils one important function of the hand, viz. that of the supplying the mouth with food. The sprawling movements of an infant’s hands and the tendency which they have to close upon anything--dress, blanket, or whatever it be--and draw it to the mouth remind one forcibly of the feelers of a polyp.

In most of the lower animals, however, the sense of feeling, though present, serving for protection and giving notice of injury, is not very acute. It is not much employed by them for the purpose of obtaining information respecting external objects; and they can scarcely be said to enjoy that modification of it which we call the sense of touch in any high degree. Indeed, the skins of animals have, commonly, such a covering of thick, horny cuticle, scales, feathers, or hair, as is incompatible with a fine discriminating sense of touch.

In many of them, however, some other sense is highly developed. The VULTURE is guided by the smell of carrion for miles and miles; and the dog will, by the same sense, track game where man cannot detect the trace of an odour. Some birds can distinguish objects which are quite out of the range of our sight. The EAGLE, for instance, soars aloft, till it dwindles to a mere speck or is lost to our view, and, then, from that great height, will pounce, with unerring certainty, on an unhappy grouse upon the ground. The sense of hearing is a great means of protection to animals, and necessitates extreme stillness and caution on the part of their pursuers. The DEER, when feeding, directs his eyes upon the ground, and depends for safety, chiefly, upon his hearing, which is so acute that the huntsman is obliged to approach with all possible wariness.

In each of these instances, it may be observed, the acuteness of the particular sense is manifested chiefly in the power it gives to the animal of distinguishing objects at a distance. Whereas, in the ability to use the several senses for the nice discernment of the qualities of substances and to derive enjoyment from them, man stands quite unrivalled. He alone appreciates the perfume of a bouquet, or takes cognisance of the various shades of colour and of the notes of music; and the sense of touch, which is of especial service in aiding us to an accurate knowledge of bodies, is much more highly developed in man than in other animals.

Fine as the sense of touch usually is in the human hand, it becomes far more so when an unusual demand is made upon it in consequence of a deficiency, or absence, of other senses. The rapidity with which blind persons can read with their fingers is truly astonishing. Some are said to be able to distinguish colours by the feel. (It should rather be said that they are capable of recognising the nice differences in certain substances by which colours are caused; for one can scarcely conceive it possible to distinguish by feeling the colours in a ray of light separated by a prism.) I am acquainted with a lady who has been, not only blind, but deaf and dumb from infancy. The sense of touch is, therefore, almost her only avenue for impressions from without; and it is surprising how much information is conveyed through it, and how quickly. It enables her to hold converse with her relatives, by the language of the fingers, almost as freely and as briskly as others do with the tongue. A few touches are sufficient to transmit a series of thoughts. After one shake of the hand her friends told me that she would recognise me again; and, true enough, although several days elapsed before I again saw her, she made the sign for my name as soon as she touched my hand. At our next meeting I presented my left hand, but was, again, immediately recognised.

Persons who have had much experience in the instruction of the deaf and dumb find that the hand, by means of writing and “dactylogy”, or the language of finger-signs, is abundantly sufficient for all the intercourse to which a deaf-mute is equal; and they are, therefore, disposed to discourage the teaching of articulation. Dr Kitto, in his little book “On the Lost Senses,” which acquires so much interest from the fact of his being himself deaf and dumb in consequence of an accident, relates that, after he had, with great difficulty, reacquired considerable facility of speech, he found it stood him in little stead. So efficient a means of intercourse had the hand become that, he tells us, he had not occasion for the use of his tongue ten times in a year.

Not only may the hand thus serve, to some extent, as a substitute for some of the other senses; it is also a most important auxiliary to them. Particularly is it so to the sense of sight, by proving, or correcting, the impressions which we receive through the eye. Without its aid we should often fail to distinguish between a real object and a picture or a reflection in a mirror, and should have difficulty in judging of size, shape, distance, &c.

Relation of the Hand to the Eye and the Mouth.

You cannot have watched a game of cricket without being struck by the manner in which the hand acts in harmony with the eye. With what almost lightning-like rapidity it is in the exact place to catch the ball; and with what precision the practised cricketer can throw the ball to a great distance. In this, however, he is surpassed by the wonderful skill with which the Indian throws the lasso. Again, it is enough for the sportsman merely to get sight of the bird; he is scarcely conscious of the process by which the hand directs the gun and pulls the trigger at the exact moment. Still more remarkable is the successful aim when taken, as it occasionally is, without bringing the gun to the shoulder.

In estimating the importance of the hand, you must not forget that the mouth is quite dependent upon it for supplies. In most other animals the jaws are prolonged, forwards, from the cranium, and the head is placed in such a position that the mouth becomes an organ of prehension, and is enabled to provide for itself. But, in man, the head is carried so high above the ground, and the jaws are so shortened and compressed beneath the forehead, that the mouth is of little use in obtaining food. Its abilities and duties are restricted to receiving, masticating, and swallowing; and, if it had to rely upon its own efforts for supplies of food, it would, indeed, be in a poor case. When we look at one of the Sphinxes from Egypt, or at one of the stately Bulls from Nineveh, in which wisdom and power are represented by joining a human head to the trunk and limbs of an animal, the question suggests itself, “How is that mouth to be fed?” In the Centaur and Mermaid this difficulty is overcome by adding the hands, as well as the human head, to the trunk and locomotory organs of the horse in the one instance, and the fish in the other; so that monstrosity does not preclude the means of sustentation. Sufficient incongruities, however, still remain to justify the exclamation

“Spectatum admissi risum teneatis amici?”

In the ELEPHANT the mouth is circumstanced, somewhat, as in man; and the office of feeder is performed by the elongated snout or proboscis. This organ, with its finger-like extremity, is so sensitive and mobile as to be able to pick up small bodies--pins or needles--from the ground, and so strong as to pull down large branches of trees, and gather the fruit from them. It is interesting, in connection with the relation of the hand to the will and the intellectual endowments, to remark that this proboscidean substitute, which fulfils so many of the purposes of the hand, is furnished to the “half reasoning” elephant. The natural sagacity and teachableness of this creature, of which such interesting evidence is given in Sir Emerson Tennent’s book on Ceylon, seem to render it quite worthy of the privilege of having an especial organ provided to minister to its will.

Cheiromancy.

The BEAUTY of the hand does not come in for quite so great a share of admiration as that of the foot. Perhaps, because we are less often gratified with the view of the latter. Perhaps, because we are conscious that the foot is even more decidedly characteristic of the human form than is the hand; inasmuch as the hand of the monkey approaches more nearly to the human hand than does the foot of any animal to the human foot. Still, we are by no means insensible to the charms of a pretty hand; and we prefer that the glove which envelopes it should be of a material as thin and pliable as kid, so that it may adapt itself accurately to the part, and not conceal its form. A small and delicate hand is thought to be one of the best signs of high-breeding. Thus, Byron, who was no bad judge of such matters, writes

“Even to the delicacy of her hand There was resemblance such as true blood bears,”

and again,

“Though on more thorough-bred or fairer fingers No lips ere left their transitory trace.”

The LINES upon the palm, or creases formed in closing the hand, differ a little in different persons. In former times, when men were addicted to the arts of divination, and thought more about the connection between the physical world and the world of spirits, and strove, by a close observation of the former, to penetrate the mysteries of the latter, much attention was paid to these lines. They were named with the names of the Planets and the signs of the Zodiac; and a science grew up akin to Astrology and Physiognomy. CHEIROMANCY was the name given to it; and numerous and voluminous treatises were written upon it. We are told that Homer was the author of a complete essay upon the lines of the hand. That something of the kind was practised among the Romans we learn from a passage in Juvenal, translated, somewhat freely, by Dryden, as follows:

“The middle sort, who have not much to spare, To cheiromancer’s cheaper art repair, Who claps the pretty palm to make the lines more fair.”

You will estimate the value of the science of CHEIROMANCY when you hear that equal furrows upon the lower joint of the thumb argue riches and possessions; but a line surrounding the middle joint portends hanging. The nails, also, came in for their share of attention: and we are informed that, when short, they imply goodness; when long and narrow, steadiness but dulness; when curved, rapacity. Black spots upon them are unlucky; white are fortunate. Even at the present day Gipsies practise the art when they can find sufficient credulity to encourage them.

Whether any fancy of the like kind gave origin to the notion still prevalent that a wound or injury between the thumb and the fore-finger is peculiarly likely to be followed by LOCK-JAW, or whether the notion was grounded on some notable instance in which that fearful malady did actually supervene upon a wound in the situation mentioned, I cannot tell. You may, however, rest assured, that it is quite a fallacy. Lock-jaw may result from a wound in any part of the body, or it may occur without a wound; it is very capricious in its attack; the surgeon does not know when to look for it; it often shows itself when he least expects it; but it is not more likely to follow a wound between the thumb and the fore-finger than a wound elsewhere. I think it well to mention this, because I have often known persons greatly alarmed when they have accidentally cut themselves in the dreaded spot.

Cause of the preferential use of the Right Hand.

Why is man usually <sc>RIGHT-HANDED</sc>? Many attempts have been made to answer this question; but it has never been done quite satisfactorily; and I do not think that a clear and distinct explanation of the fact can be given.

There is no anatomical reason for it with which we are acquainted. The only peculiarity that we can discern is a slight difference in the disposition, within the chest, between the blood-vessels which supply the right and the left arms. This, however, is quite insufficient to account for the disparity between the two limbs. Moreover, the same disposition is observed in left-handed persons, and in some of the lower animals; and in none of the latter is there that difference between the two limbs which is so general among men.

Is the superiority of the right hand real and natural, that is, congenital? or is it merely acquired? I incline much to the latter view; because all men are not right-handed; some are left-handed; some are ambidextrous; and in all persons, I believe, the left hand may be trained to as great expertness and strength as the right. It is so in those who have been deprived of their right hand in early life; and most persons can do certain things with the left hand better than with the right.

In the tribe of Benjamin “there were seven hundred chosen men left-handed; every one could sling stones at an hair breadth, and not miss.” Judges xx. 16. When David was at Ziklag there came to him a company of men who “were armed with bows and could use both the right hand and the left in hurling stones and shooting arrows out of a bow.” 1 Chronicles xii. 2.

Nevertheless, though I think the superiority of the right hand is acquired and is a result of its more frequent use, the tendency to use it, in preference to the left, is so universal that it would seem to be natural. I am driven, therefore, to the rather nice distinction, that, though the superiority is acquired, the tendency to acquire the superiority is natural.