It is true that we use the word feel when we test the qualities of bodies with our hands, and in this sense our hands are feelers. But we derive a knowledge from the use of our hands, which no other animal derives from the exercise of any organ of tact it may possess. Nor is this to be wondered at, for in all other animals tact or touch administers only to their physical necessities. For example, the sense of touch in the pulpy end of the beak of the snipe or woodcock must be exquisite--multitudinous are the nerves supplying that part--for even the soft worm or larva in the oozy ground is felt, and the finger of man would most probably fail here; but in man the sense of touch appeals to the mind, and communicates mental pleasure, mental instruction, or even mental disquietude. Even as discords in music, or grating sounds, such as the filing of a saw, or the rubbing of cork against a wall, excite the nervous system through the mind, so does the sense of touch disturb the mind and body when that which is touched is discordant. A lady of the writer's acquaintance, by no means timid, and by no means afraid of snakes, was induced to let a common snake glide through her hand; she bore the sensation with firmness, but she nearly fainted when the snake had crept through her grasp, and described the working of the reptile's ribs and abdominal plates as communicating an indescribable sensation. Yet that snake was a sort of pet, and she used to stroke its head, and feel its lambent tongue quiver against her hand. She was not afraid, but the sensation jarred like discordant notes. Were persons to write down their experiences of the pleasing and unpleasing sensations derived through the medium of the different senses, and were those notes collected together, we should have a mass of most interesting and instructive information, well worthy the study of a physiologist. After all, however, the sense of touch or tact gives less pleasure to man than that of sight, hearing, taste, or smell; it appreciates neither colours nor harmony, nor the flavour of luscious viands, nor the odour of flowers and perfumes; but it communicates greatly to his store of information. It is a "matter of fact" sense, and though an old poet has said-- "Have you felt the wool of the beaver, Or swan's down, ever?" it is not one of the senses which figure on the page of poetry or romance.