of the country! I could honour thy courage, but I must detest and punish thy crimes.

R. What have I done, of which you can complain?

A. Hast thou not set at defiance my authority; violated the public peace, and passed thy life in injuring the persons and properties of thy fellow-subjects?

R. Alexander! I am your captive-I must hear what you please to say, and endure what you please to inflict. But my soul is unconquered; and if I reply at all to your reproaches, I will reply like a free man.

A. Speak freely. Far be it from me to take the advantage of my power to silence those with whom I deign to converse!

R. I must then answer your question by another. How have you passed your life?

A. Like a hero. Ask Fame, and she will tell you. Among the brave I have been the bravest: among sovereigns the noblest among conquerors the mightiest

R. And does not Fame speak of me too? Was there ever a bolder captain of a more valiant band? Was there ever?But I scorn to boast. You yourself know that I have not been easily subdued.

A. Still, what are you but a robber-a base dishonest robber?

R. And what is a conqueror? Have not you, too, gone about the earth like an evil genius, blasting the fair fruits of peace and industry;-plundering, ravaging, killing, without law, without justice, merely to gratify an insatiable lust for dominion? All that I have done to a single district with a hundred followers, you have done to whole nations with a hundred thousand. If I have stripped individuals, you have ruined kings and princes. If I have burned a few hamlets, you have desolated the most flourishing kingdoms and cities of the earth. What is, then, the difference, but that as you were born a king, and I a private man, you have been able to become a mightier robber than I?

A. But if I have taken like a king, I have given like a king. If I have subverted empires, I have founded greater. I have cherished arts, commerce, and philosophy.

R. I, too, have freely given to the poor what I took from the rich. I have established order and discipline among the most ferocious of mankind; and have stretched out my protecting arm over the oppressed. I know, indeed, little of the

philosophy you talk of; but I believe neither you nor I shall ever repay to the world the mischiefs we have done it.

A. Leave me.-Take off his chains and use him well. (Exit robber.)-Are we, then, so much alike?—Alexander too a robber?-Let me reflect.

Eleventh Evening.

ON MAN.

Charles. You gave me the definition of a horse some time ago. Pray, sir, how is a man defined?

Father. That is worth inquiring. Let us consider, then. He must either stand by himself, or be ranked among the quadrupeds; for there are no other two-legged animals but birds, which he certainly does not resemble.

C. But how can he be made a quadruped?

F. By setting him to crawl on the ground; in which case he will as much resemble a baboon, as a baboon set on his hind-legs does a man. In reality, there is little difference between the arms of a man and the fore-legs of a quadruped; and in all other circumstances of internal and external structure, they are evidently formed upon the same model.

C. I suppose, then, we must call him a digitated quadruped that generally goes upon his hind-legs.

F. A naturalist could not reckon him otherwise; and accordingly Linnæus has placed him in the same division with apes, macocos, and bats.

C. Apes, macocos, and bats!

F. Yes they have all four cutting teeth in the upper jaw, and teats on the breast. How do you like your rela

tions?

C. Not at all!

F. Then we will get rid of them by applying to the other part of human nature-the mind. Man is an animal possessed of reason, and the only one. This, therefore, is enough to define him.

C. I have often heard that man is a rational creature, and I have a notion what that means; but I should like to have an exact definition of reason.

F. Reason is the faculty by which we compare ideas and draw conclusions. A man walking in the woods of an unknown country finds a bow. He compares it in his mind with other bows, and forms the conclusion that it must have

been made by man, and that therefore the country is probably inhabited. He discovers a hut; sees in it half-burnt wood, and finds that the ashes are not quite cold. He concludes, therefore, with certainty, not only that there are inhabitants, but that they cannot be far distant.

animal could do this.

No other

C. But would not a dog, who had been used to live with men, run into such a hut and expect to find people in it?

F. He probably would-and this, I acknowledge, is very like reason; for he may be supposed to compare in his mind the hut he has lived in with that he sees, and to conclude, that as there were men in the first, there are in the last. But how little a way does this carry him? He finds no men there, and he is unable by any marks to form a judgment how long they have been absent, or what sort of people they were; still less does he form any plan of conduct in consequence of his discovery.

C. Then is not the difference only, that man has much reason, and brutes little?

F. If we adhere to the mere words of the definition of reason, I believe this must be admitted; but in the exercise of it, the superiority of the human faculties is so great, that man is in many points absolutely distinguished from brutes. In the first place, he has the use of speech, which no other animal has attained.

C. Cannot many animals make themselves understood by one another by their cries?

F. They can make known a few of their common wants and desires, but they cannot discourse, or communicate ideas stored up in the memory. It is this faculty which makes man an improvable being, the wisdom and experience acquired by one individual being thus transmitted to others, and so on in an endless series of progression. There is no reason to suppose that the dogs of the present day are more knowing than those which lived a thousand years ago; but the men of this age are much better acquainted with numberless arts and sciences than their remote ancestors; since, by the use of speech and of writing (which is speech addressed to the eye), every age adds its own discoveries to all former ones. This knowledge of the past likewise gives man a great insight into the future. Shakspeare excellently defines man by saying, that he is a creature "made with large discourse, looking before and after."

C. Animals must surely know something of the future, when they lay up a store of provision for the winter.

F. No-it is pretty certain that this is not the case, for they will do it as much the first year of their lives as any other. Young bees turned out of their hive, as soon as they have swarmed and got a habitation begin laying up honey, though they cannot possibly foresee the use they shall have for it. There are a vast number of actions of this kind in animals, which are directed to a useful end, but an end which the animal knows nothing of. And this is what we call instinct, and properly distinguish from reason. Man has less of it than almost any other animal, because he wants it less. Another point of essential difference is, that man is the only animal that makes use of instruments in any of his actions. He is a tool-making and machine-making animal. By means of this faculty alone he is everywhere lord of the creation, and has equally triumphed over the subtlety of the cunning, the swiftness of the fleet, and the force of the strong. He is the only animal that has found out the use of fire, a most important acquisition.

C. I have read of some large apes that will come and sit round a fire in the woods when men have left it, but have not the sense to keep it in, by throwing on sticks.

F. Still less, then, could they light a fire. In consequence 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 kind 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. A solitary bee, ant, or beaver, would have none of the skill and sagacity of those animals in their proper social condition. 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 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 lowest class among us are almost equally inferior to the instructed.

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

F. I am not certain how far that is 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 civilisation have entertained the grossest errors on these subjects, which are only to be corrected 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?

P. 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 those that 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

F