but not warm, and of waters, one kind is superior to all others.
Here, at last, is the secret of Diana of Poictiers.
Every morning of her life, that lady bathed in rain-*water; "and this it was, I swear by the soul of my honored mistress," says master Oudard, her apothecary-in-chief, surgeon-barber, and perfumer, as he delights to call himself, "that was the only secret which that illustrious dame employed to preserve her health, youth, and beauty to the age of threescore and twelve years."
We believe the honest apothecary, for this is distilled water, perfectly neutral and pure, fitted beyond any other to render the skin clean, odorless, white, soft, smooth, and transparent. Let it be preferred to all others, for it is better than any of them. When it cannot be obtained, soft water will answer, but hard water, which contains, mineral salts, should be avoided, as it cracks and injures the epidermis. Is not such a secret worth more than gold, whether soluble or insoluble? For beauty is not a thing of price.
A cold bath does not suit many constitutions, and is not advisable for the skin. Still more objectionable is one which is hot. The water should be tepid, and in using it, one should wet the person sufficiently to loosen the scales of the scarf-skin, and then rub the flesh, not violently, but gently and for some time, with a coarse towel, a soft flesh-brush, or a flesh-mitten not too
