one of the implanted and original characteristics of our mental constitution. Although it must be acknowledged that this principle exists in very various degrees, from the weakest form of life and activity to almost irrepressible strength, yet a person utterly without curiosity would be deemed almost as strange and anomalous as a person without sensation. If curiosity be not natural to man, then it follows that the human mind is naturally indifferent to the objects that are presented to it, and to the discovery of truth and that its progress in knowledge is naturally unattended with satisfaction; a state of things which could not be expected, and is not warranted by facts. On the contrary, we see the operation of this principle everywhere. When anything unexpected and strange takes place, the attention of all persons is immediately directed towards it; it is not a matter of indifference, but all are anxious to ascertain the cause.

There is at least one class of writers whose prospects of being read depend in a great measure on the workings of this principle; we refer to novelists and writers of romance. However commonplace may be their conceptions, and however uninteresting their style, if they lay the plan of their novel or romance with so much skill as strongly to excite the curiosity, they can command readers. And this, undoubtedly, is the whole secret of success in a multitude of cases.

§ 324. Further illustrations of the principle of curiosity.

In further proof of the existence of this propensity as a natural or implanted one, it may be proper to refer to the whole class of the Deaf and Dumb, and to those unfortunate individuals who are blind as well as deaf and dumb These persons almost uniformly give the most striking indications of a desire to learn; it seems to glow in their countenance, to inspire their gestures, and to urge them on with a sort of violence in their inquiries. Certainly, if the principle of curiosity were not implanted, and did not exist in great strength, they would be entire ly overcome by the multitude of discouragements with which they are encompassed.

Take, as an illustration, the case of James Mitchell, of

whom Mr. Stewart has given a minute and interesting ac Although this unfortunate boy was afflicted with the threefold deprivation of being deaf, sightless, and without the use of speech, he exhibited a considerable degree of mental activity. The principle of Curiosity, in particular, existed in great strength. He showed a strong desire to examine, and to obtain a knowledge of all objects that came within his reach. We find him exploring the ground inch by inch; we see him creeping on his hands and knees on bridges and the tops of houses; examining not only men, but dogs, horses, carriages, furniture, and musical instruments; standing by the side of shoemakers, tailors, and bricklayers, and intently curious to know the mode and the result of their labours.

But it is unnecessary to dwell upon these general considerations, or to refer to extraordinary instances, when we constantly witness in all infants and children the most ample proofs that the principle of curiosity is deeply implanted in the human mind. It seems to be their life; it keeps them constantly in motion; from morn till night it furnishes new excitements to activity and new sources of enjoyment. The poets, many of whom are entitled to the credit of an exact observance of human nature, have made this trait in infants and children the foundations of many striking passages, as in the following:

"In the pleased infant see its power expand.
When first the coral fills his little hand,
Throned in his mother's lap, it dries each tear,
As her sweet legend falls upon his ear;
Next it assails him in his top's strange hum,
Breathes in his whistle, echoes in his drum ;
Each gilded toy that doting love bestows,
He longs to break, and every spring expose."

$325. Of the twofold operation and the morality of the principle of curiosity.

The innate principle or propensity of curiosity, like that of self-preservation, has its twofold action, INSTINCTIVE and VOLUNTARY.—An action which is purely instinctive is always directed towards its object as an ultimate end; it looks at the object itself, without regard to the good or evil which may be involved in it; it chooses and pursues it for its own sake It is in this way that the principle

of curiosity operates in the first instance. This is its instinctive operation. And, so far as it thus operates, it is neither selfish nor benevolent; neither morally good noi evil; but simply innocent and useful.

It possesses also a VOLUNTARY action, founded upon a view of consequences, and implying the exercise of reflec tion. We may direct it to proper objects; we may stim ulate its exercise by considerations of interest or of duty, we may restrain it when it becomes irregular and inordinate. And its action, so far as it exists under such cirumstances, may, with entire propriety, be denominated voluntary. And, so far as it is of this character, morality s predicable of it; it may be either virtuous or vicious. If it be stimulated to action for good ends, and with a suitable regard to all other moral claims, its exercise is virtuous. If it have bad ends in view, or be put forth with such intensity as to violate other moral obligations, its exercise is vicious. It is in accordance with these views that Mr. Stewart remarks upon and disapproves the conduct of a certain ancient astronomer. It appears that, on a certain occasion, the astronomer was accused of indifference in respect to public transactions. He replied to the charge by the remark that his country was in the heavens; distinctly implying that he had deliberately merged the duties of the citizen in those of the astronomer, and that love to his country was essentially annulled by the higher love which he cherished for his chosen science. We obviously have here an instance of the inordinate exercise of the principle under consideration. It was not duly subordinated. It became so intense as to conflict, in the view of an enlightened conscience, with the proper exercise of other feelings, and with the discharge of other duties.

◊ 326. Imitativeness, or the propensity to imitation.

Another of the original propensities of the human mind is the principle of Imitation, or the desire of doing as we see others do. We find the evidence of the existence of such a principle everywhere around us.-If this propensity be not natural, it will be difficult to account for what every one must have noticed in infancy and childhood

And we take this occasion to remark, that on this whole subject we shall refer particularly to the early periods of life. That is a time when human nature will be likely to show itself in its true features. And in respect to the principle now before us, it is certain that children are early found to observe with care what others do, and to attempt doing the like. They are greatly aided by this propensity in learning to utter articulate sounds. It is not without long-continued efforts, in which they are evidently sustained by the mere pleasure of imitation, that they acquire the use of oral language.

At a little later period of life, after having learned to articulate, and having become old enough to take part in juvenile sports, we find the same propensity at work. With the animation and formidable airs of jockeys, they bestride a stick for a horse, and try equestrian experiments; they conduct their small and frail carriages through courts and streets, and journey with their rude sledges from one hill-top to another. Ever busily engaged, they frame houses, build fortifications, erect waterworks, and lay out gardens in miniature. They shoulder a cane for a musket; practise a measured step and fierce look; and become soldiers, as well as gardeners and architects, before they are men.-But the operation of this propensity is not limited to children; men also do as their fathers have done before them; it often requires no small degree of moral courage to deviate from the line of precedents. Whether right or wrong, we generally feel a degree of safety, much greater than we should otherwise feel, so long as we tread in the path of others

§ 327. Practical results of the principle of imitation. It may, perhaps, be supposed by some, whatever evidence may exist in favour of regarding the principle under consideration as an original one, that it has but a slight connexion with the advancement and the happiness of mankind. But it is a remark not unfrequently to be made in respect to the principles of the mind, that often results of great magnitude are found to connect themselves with elements in human nature that appeared in themselves exceedingly insignificant. Such, it is possible,

may be the case here. We often speak of imitativeness as a principle which governs children; but are less willing to acknowledge, which is hardly less the fact, that it is a principle which governs men. We cannot doubt. from the reflection we have been able to bestow upon it, that the principle before us, whatever aspect it may pre sent at first sight, was designed to be, and is in fact, one of the important supports of society; a source of knowledge, happiness, and power. If this principle were obliterated, the bond of union which now holds so closely together the two great divisions of society, the old and the young, would be greatly weakened; an event, in all points of view, much to be deplored. Not only in childhood, but in mature age, as we have already had occasion to intimate, we walk in the steps of our fathers, following in arts and in manners the same practices, and sustaining the same institutions; and it is desirable, as a general thing, that we should do so. And we do it, noi nerely because we suppose them to be clothed with the attribute of superior wisdom, but also because we are prompted, often unconsciously to ourselves, by the influence of this powerful principle. And it is in this way, partly at least, that generation is connected with generation; that the torch of experience, lighted in the preceding age, is made to shed its beams over that which follows; and that society, kept in the vicinity of the beaten track, is not subject to sudden and disastrous convulsions.

We would merely add, if this principle has such vast influence, as we have no doubt that it has, it is incumbent on every one carefully to consider the nature and tendency of the example which he sets. He who sets a bad example, either in domestic or in public life, is not only blasted and withered in himself, but almost necessarily leads on in his train a multitude of others to the same results of degradation and ruin. On the contrary, he who does good in his day and generation, infuses, whether he designs it or not, the effulgence of his example into a multitude of hearts which nature has opened for its reception; and thus, with better and higher results, lights them upward to happiness and glory.