Dr. Plumer is the Garrison of these oppressed members of the body corporeal.  He comes to break their chains, to lift their bowed figures, to strengthen their weakness, to restore them to the dignity of digits.  To do this, he begins where every sensible man would, by contemplating the natural foot as it appears in infancy, unspoiled as yet by social corruptions, in adults fortunate enough to have escaped these destructive influences, in the grim skeleton aspect divested of its outward disguises.  We will give the reader two views of the latter kind, illustrating the longitudinal and transverse arches before spoken of.

[Illustration]

A man who walks on natural surfaces, with his feet unprotected by any artificial defences, calls the action of these arches into full play at every step.  The longitudinal arch is the most strikingly marked of the two.  In some races and in certain individuals it is much developed, so as to give the high instep which is prized as an evidence of good blood.  The Arab says that a stream of water can flow under his foot without touching its sole.  Under the conditions supposed, of a naked foot on a natural surface, the arches of the foot will commonly maintain their integrity, and give the noble savage or the barefooted Scotch lassie the elasticity of gait which we admire in the children of Nature.

But as a large portion of mankind tread on artificial hard surfaces, especially pavements, their feet are subjected to a very unnatural amount of wear and tear.  How great this is the inhabitants of cities are apt to forget.  After passing some months in the country, we have repeatedly found ourselves terribly lamed and shaken by our first walk on the pavement.  A party of city-folk who landed on a beach upon Cape Cod complained greatly to one of the natives accompanying them of the difficulty of walking through the deep sand.  “Ah,” he answered, “it’s nothing to the trouble I have walking on your city-sidewalks.”  To save the feet from the effects of violent percussion and uneven surfaces, they must be protected by thick soles, and thick soles require strong upper-leather.  When the foot is wedged into one of these casings, a new boot, a struggle begins between them, which ends in a compromise.  The foot becomes more or less compressed or deformed, and the boot more or less stretched at the points where the counter-pressure takes place.

On the part of the foot, the effects of this warfare are liable to show themselves in thickening and inflammation of the integuments, in displacement of the toes, and occasionally in the breaking down of the transverse or longitudinal arches.  On the part of the boot or shoe, there is a gradual accommodation which in time fits it to the foot almost as if it had been moulded upon it, so that a little before it is worn out it is invaluable, like other blessings brightening before they take their flight.