quence of this discovery, man cooks his food, which no other animal does. He alone fences against the cold by clothing as well as by fire. He alone cultivates the earth, and keeps living animals for future uses.

C. But have not there been wild men bred in the woods that could do none of these things?

F. Some instances of this nature are recorded, and they are not to be wondered at; for man was meant to be a gregarious animal, or one living in society, in which alone his faculties have full scope, and especially his power of improving by the use of speech. These poor solitary creatures, brought up with the brutes, were in a state entirely unnatural to them. Unless from instinct, a solitary bee, ant, or beaver, would have none of the skill and sagacity of those animals in their proper social condition. Thus it would appear that, in some instances, and under some circumstances, reason and instinct are separated by a very narrow line of demarcation. Society sharpens all the faculties, and gives ideas and views which never could have been entertained by an individual.

C. But some men that live in society seem to be little above the brutes, at least, when compared to other men. What is a Hottentot or a Bushman in comparison to one of us?

F. The difference, indeed, is great; but we agree in the most essential characters of man, and perhaps the advantage is not all on our side. The Hottentot cultivates the earth, and rears cattle. He not only herds with his fellows, but he has instituted some sort of government for the protection of the weak against the strong. He has a notion of right and wrong, and is sensible of the necessity of controlling present appetites and passions for the sake of a future good. He has, therefore, morals. He is possessed of weapons, tools, clothing, and furniture, of his own making. In agility of body, and the knowledge of various circumstances relative to the nature of animals, he surpasses us. His inferiority lies in those things in which many

of the lower classes among us are almost equally inferior to the instructed.

C. But Hottentots are said to have no notion of a God, or of a future state.

F. I am not certain how far that may be fact; but, alas! how many among us have no knowledge at all on these subjects, or only some vague notions, full of absurdity and superstition! People far advanced in civilization have entertained the grossest errors on these subjects, which are to be corrected only by the serious application of reason, or by a direct revelation from Heaven.

C. You said man was an improvable creature-but have not many nations been a long time in a savage state without improvement?

F. Man is always capable of improvement; but he may exist a long time, in society, without actually improving beyond a certain point. There is little improvement among nations who have not the art of writing; for tradition is not capable of preserving very accurate or extensive knowledge; and many arts and sciences, after flourishing greatly, have been entirely lost, in countries which have been overrun by barbarous and illiterate nations. Then there is a principle which I might have mentioned as one of the principles which distinguish man from brutes, but it as much distinguishes some men from others. This is curiosity, or the love of knowledge for its own sake. Most savages have little or nothing of this; but, without it, we should want one of the chief inducements to exert our faculties. It is curiosity that impels us to search into the properties of every part of nature, to try all sorts of experiments, to visit distant regions, and even to examine the appearances and motions of the heavenly bodies. Every fact thus discovered, leads to other facts; and there is no limit to be set to this progress. The time may come, when what we now know may seem as much ignorance to future ages, as the knowledge of early times seems to us.

P

C. What nations know the most at present?

F. The Europeans have long been distinguished for superior ardour after knowledge, and they possess, beyond all comparison, the greatest share of it, whereby they have been enabled to command the rest of the world. The countries in which the arts and sciences most flourish at present, are the northern and middle parts of Europe, and also North America, which, you know, is inhabited by descendants of Europeans. In these countries man may be said to be most man; and they may apply to themselves the poet's boast— "Man is the nobler growth these realms supply, And souls are ripen'd in our northern sky.'

WALKING THE STREETS.

A Parable.

HAVE you ever walked through the crowded streets of a great city?

What shoals of people pouring in from opposite quarters, like torrents meeting in a narrow valley! You would imagine it impossible for them to get through; yet all pass on their way, without stop or molestation.

Were each man to proceed exactly in the line in which he set out, he could not move many paces without encountering another full in his track. They would strike against each other, fall back, push forward again, block up the way for themselves, and those after them, and throw the whole street into confusion.

All this is avoided by every man's yielding a little. Instead of advancing square, stiff, with arms stuck out, every one who knows how to walk the streets, glides along, his arms close, his body oblique and flexible, his track gently winding, leaving now a few inches on this side, now on that, so as to pass and be passed, without touching, in the smallest possible space.

He pushes no one into the kennel, nor goes into it

himself. By mutual accommodation, the path, though narrow, admits them all.

He goes neither much faster nor much slower than others who go in the same direction. In the first case, he would elbow; in the second, he would be elbowed.

If any accidental stop arise, from a carriage crossing, a cask rolled, a pickpocket detected, or the like, he does not increase the bustle by rushing into the midst of it, but checks his pace, and patiently awaits its removal.

Like this is the march of life.

In our progress through the world, a thousand things continually stand in our way. Some people meet us full in the face with opposite opinions and inclinations; some stand before us in our pursuit of pleasure or interest, and others follow close upon our heels. Now, we ought in the first place to consider, that the road is as free for one as for another; and therefore we have no right to expect that persons should go out of their way to let us pass, any more than we out of ours to let them pass. Then, if we do not mutually yield and accommodate a little, it is clear that we must all stand still, or be thrown into a perpetual confusion of squeezing and justling. If we are all in a hurry to get on as fast as possible to some point of pleasure or interest in our view, and do not occasionally hold back, when the crowd gathers, and angry contentions arise, we shall only augment the tumult, without advancing our own progress. On the whole, it is our business to move onwards, steadily, but quietly, obstructing others as little as possible, yielding a little to this man's prejudices and that man's desires, and doing everything in our power to make the journey of life easy to all our fellow-travellers as well as to ourselves.

212

SIXTEENTH EVENING.

THE COMPOUND-FLOWERED PLANTS.

Tutor-George-Harry.

George. HARRY, can you blow off all these dandelion

feathers at a blast?

Harry. I will try.

G. See, you have left almost half of them.

H. Can you do better?

G. Yes; look here.

H. There are still several left.

Tutor. A pretty child's play you have got there. Bring me one of the dandelion heads, and let us see if we can make no other use of it.

H. Here is a very

full one.

T. Do you know what these feathers, as you call them, are?

G. I believe they belong to the seeds.

T. They do, and they are worth examining. Look at this single one through my magnifying-glass: you observe the seed at the bottom, like the point of a dart. From it springs a slender hairy shaft, crowned by a most elegant, spreading plume. You see, it is a complete arrow of nature's manufacture.

G. How exact!

H. What a beautiful thing!

T. I am sure you see the use of it at once. G. It is to set the seeds flying with the wind. H. And, I suppose, they sow themselves where they alight.

7. They do. This is one of nature's contrivances for dissemination, or that scattering of the seeds of plants which makes them reach all the places proper for their growth. I dare say you have observed other