and feelings by words or articulate sounds. Many of the inferior species have doubtless some power of communicating with each other through sounds, combined with actions and gestures, but such is widely diferent from a vocal language. though probably all that their rude faculties and simple feelings require. Several birds, moreover, may be taught to pronounce words and even to repeat sentences: but to associate thoughts with them is altogether above their power. They articulate mechanically, through imitation Language implies a connected series, an association of ideas. a degree of intelligence which the brute mind cannot attain. It be longs only to the more exalted moral and intellectual capablities of man, and these capabilities are dependent upon this power of speech for their full exercise and development. Weeping and laughter, as expressive of certain mental conditions, as sorrow, and mirth and satisfaction would appear to be peculiar to our own species. Some animals beside man would seem to shed tears, but whether from grief is a matter of doubt: but none. I believe, not even the most marlike of the apes. ever evince a mirthful state of mind by laughter. Indeed their countenances are always marked even by a ladierous expression of gravity. The faculty of reflection. at least to any obvious extent, would appear to belong only to man. By reflection is meant the action of the mind upon itself: or the turning inward, or throwing back, the thoughts upon themselves, and thus creating new mental combinations, or new thoughts out of the ideas obtained through the medium of the senses. And from this compound operation of the mind do we derive an additional and exhaustless spring of knowledge, with new motives to action, and a measureless increase in our relations with external things. The relations of the brute animal to the objects among which he is placed have reference chiefly, if not solely, to the gratification of his appetites, or the satisfaction of his bodily wants, and his preservation from injury or destruction. His sensual desires pacified, and unthreatened by danger, he commonly falls asleep, or, at least, remains at rest. But such is not true of man, at least of civilized man. With his appetites satisfied, with ample provision for every physical necessity, and exempt from even the remotest apprehension of harm, still actuated by a class of wants above those of his mere animal nature, does he remain awake; observing the objects and phenomena around him; reflecting, perhaps, on his own mysterious nature, its complicated relations, its inscrutable destiny. Or, unsatisfied with the present, is stretching his view far into the dim and misty future, and judging, or trying to judge of its fastcoming events. Nor yet can his expanding mind be bounded by the world in which he dwells, but grasps at the universe and eternity, and space and time are too limited to contain it. This curiosity, this insatiable appetite for knowledge, or the discovery of new truths, seems an attribute especially of our own nature, and is the stimulus, ever urging us forward in the path of intellectual advancement. Scarce has the infant become familiar with the light of heaven; hardly does expression begin to brighten its vacant eye, ere it evinces its incipient curiosity in touching, tasting, smelling,. hearkening, and is thus treasuring up ideas of sensation, which are afterward to be compared, abstracted, combined, or, in other words, to be worked up into various new forms, constituting new and inexhaustible sources of mental progress. It may be proper that I should here mention one other remarkable tendency in man's mind, and so far as we can have any evidence, in his alone, and therefore distinguishing him from all the rest of the animal kingdom;—it is to believe in some superior, invisible, and controlling existence. Various forms and attributes may be ascribed to this power in different conditions, and by different races of man; but I think it must be yielded, although some travellers have endeavored to prove the contrary, that no people or nation -I do not here speak of individuals—have ever been discovered entirely destitute of such belief. And associated with it is the fervent desire and confident expectation of passing after death to the blessed abode of this unseen power, and dwelling for ever amid joys, and among beings far more exalted than any which this earth can afford. How shall we explain such belief in the human mind? Is it innate, or was it implanted there by our Creator? Did it originate in an early revelation to our race, and which was communicated by tradition from age to age? Or was it begotten of man's longing after immortal life and undying bliss? Such questions cannot, of course, receive a categorical answer. At any rate it forms one of the strongest arguments of natural religion--of which I am here only speaking-for man's immortality. To man, then, in addition to his sensual wants which he holds in common with the brutes, belong those of a moral and intellectual, and I may also add of a religious character; and his external relations being correspondently multiplied, new feelings, new desires, new passions must be generated, which, while they open sources of enjoyment immeasurably exceeding any possessed by the lower animals, may beget a train of moral, and their consequent physical ills, burdening life with sorrow, and almost raising a doubt whether it should be viewed as a gift of mercy, or an imposition of wrath. Thus in the present disposition of things, do we ever find a system of compensation, an attempt, as it were, at a general equalization of enjoyment. The inferior animal, if his appetites are appeased, and he is exempt from physical pain and the fear of danger, is apparently happy in the simple feeling of existence. But what torture of mind may not our own species endure, even when free from all bodily suffering, safe from every harm, and with resources, even in superfluity, for the gratification of every sensual want? An agony sometimes so terrible as to drive its miserable victim to the horrid alternative of self-destruction, a catastrophe rarely brought about by any amount of physical pain. Fortunately, however, by a judicious education of our intellectual and moral nature, much, very much may be done to avoid such mental sufferings, and the bodily diseases which so generally supervene. CHAPTER II. A JUDICIOUS EXERCISE OF THE INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES IS INTELLECT.-EVILS RESULTING FROM MENTAL INACTIVITY. THAT the noblest powers of our nature should have been designed for use and improvement, one might think would be universally admitted; nevertheless, there are not wanting those, eminent too for their learning, who have contended that the savage is our only natural and happy condition. Thus man-for such has been the picture drawn of him— in the golden age of his early creation, dwelling in a mild and balmy climate, abounding in vegetable productions suitable to his wants, lived solitary, naked, savage; roaming without care or thought the vast forests which he held in common with the brute, and feasting at will on the roots and fruits which the teeming soil spontaneously brought forth. Then was he pure, gentle, innocent; and exempt from all |