I subjoin, with much pleasure, the eloquent and philosophical reflections of Buffon on the same subject.

“Il faut distinguer deux genres de Perfectibilité, l'un stérile et qui se borne à l'éducation de l'individu, et l'autre fécond qui s'étend sur toute l'espèce, et qui s'étend autant qu'on le cultive par les institutions de la société. Aucun des animaux n'est susceptible de cette perfectibilité d'espèce; ils ne sont aujourd'hui que ce qu'ils ont été, que ce qu'ils seront toujours, et jamais rien de plus, parce que leur éducation étant purement individuelle, ils ne peuvent transmettre à leurs petits que ce qu'ils ont eux-mêmes reçu de leurs père et mère: Au lieu que l'homme reçoit l'éducation de tous les siècles, recueille toutes les institutions des autres hommes, et peut, par un sage emploi du temps, profiter de tous les instans de la durée de son espéce pour la perfectionner tous les jours de plus en plus. Aussi quel regret ne devons nous pas avoir à ces âges funestes où la barbarie a non seulement arrêté nos progrès, mais nous. a fait reculer au point d'imperfection d'où nous étions partis! Sans ces malheureuses vicissitudes, l'espèce humaine eût marché, et marcheroit encore constamment vers cette perfection glorieuse, qui est le plus beau titre de sa supériorité, et qui seule peut faire son bonheur."*

From the want of abstraction various other defects might be traced. I formerly showed that imagination (understanding, by that term, creative imagination) implies abstraction; and, therefore, we must consider imagination, in this sense, as a faculty peculiar to a rational nature. This conclusion seems. to be agreeable to fact; for, though the brutes discover marks of the faculty of conception, none of them exhibit proofs of their being able to form any new combinations. This, too, is what we should expect from their stationary condition contrasted with the progressive nature of man. To him imagination is the great stimulus to action and to improvement. To the brutes it could only be a source of discontent and misery. To the want of imagination, combined with an incapacity to follow out connected processes of reasoning, we may also

[Hist. Nat. tom. xiii pp. 3, 4, first edition.]

ascribe that remarkable contrast which the condition of the brutes exhibits to ours, in being guided merely by present impulses without any regard to remote consequences. Cicero has stated this contrast very precisely and forcibly in the following words:" Sed inter hominem et belluam hoc maximè interest; quod hæc tantùm quantùm sensu movetur, ad id solum, quod adest, quodque præsens est, se accommodat, paullulum admodum sentiens præteritum aut futurum: Homo autem quòd rationis est particeps, per quam consequentia cernit, causas rerum videt, earumque prægressus et antecessiones non ignorat; similitudines comparat, et rebus præsentibus adjungit, atque annectit futuras; facilè totius vitæ cursum videt, ad camque degendam præparat res necessarias."1

As some authors ascribe reason to Brutes, so others have endeavoured to show that Man, in all his actions, is guided by instinct; and that reason is only an instinct of a particular kind. Mr. Smellie, in his Philosophy of Natural History, has laboured to support this paradoxical play upon words; but the idea is of a much earlier date than his [Smellic's] writings, being started long ago by Dr. Martin Lister, and perhaps by others before him.* 66 Man," says this last author, "is as very an animal as any quadruped of them all, and most of his actions are resolvable into instinct, notwithstanding the principles which custom and education have superinduced." That it is possible, by the aid of arbitrary definitions, to say plausible things in defence of this, or of any other opinion, I will not deny. But still every person of good sense must feel and acknowledge, that the words Reason and Instinct, in their ordinary acceptations, convey two meanings which are perfectly distinct; nor is it difficult to point out (as I have already attempted to show) some of their characteristical differences. In general, I believe, it may be remarked, that although the multitude often confound things which ought to be distinguished, yet there are very few cases indeed, if there be any, in which men of different ages and countries have agreed to dis

De Officiis, lib. i. c. iv.

* [As Ovid, (Rem. Am. 10,)—"Et quod nunc Ratio est, Impetus ante fuit."-Ed.)

tinguish things by different names, which have been afterwards found, by an accurate philosophical analysis, to be the same in reality. I shall leave, therefore, this verbal quibble, without any farther comment, to the candid consideration of my readers. More than enough has, I trust, been said in the first section of this chapter to expose its futility.1

APPENDIX

ΤΟ

PART THIRD,-CHAPTER SECOND.

Some Account of JAMES MITCHELL, a boy born Deaf and Blind. From the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, Vol. VII. Part First.1

THE Memoir which I am about to submit to the consideration of the Royal Society, relates to the melancholy history of a boy who was born blind and deaf; and who, of consequence, has derived all his knowledge of things external from the senses of Touch, of Taste, and of Smell.

It is now considerably more than a year since I first heard of this case from my very ingenious friend, Mr. Wardrop,

1 The connexion of the following Appendix with the preceding chapter may not at first be apparent to a superficial reader; but will at once be acknowledged by all who are able to perceive how strongly the minute details which it contains bear on some of the most interesting questions which relate to the characteristical endowments of the human mind. Solitary as Mitchell is in the midst of society, and confined in his intercourse with the material world within the narrowest conceivable limits, what a contrast does he exhibit to the most sagacious of the lower animals, though surrounded with all the arts of civilized man, and in the fullest posses

sion of all the powers of external perception! Even in his childish occupations and pastimes, we may discern the rudiments of a rational and improvable nature; more particularly in that stock of knowledge, scanty as it is, which he has been led to acquire by the impulse of his own spontaneous and eager curiosity. Some of the occupations here described I might almost dignify by the name of experiments.

The attentive inquirer will discover in this memoir proofs of his possessing various other faculties and principles not to be found in any of the lower animals; a sense of the ludicrous, for instance, or, at least, a susceptibility of

surgeon in London; a gentleman whose scientific attainments and professional skill it is unnecessary for me to mention to this audience. The information which he then communicated

a

to me was extremely general; but more than sufficient to excite all my curiosity. "I have at present," says he, patient under my care, whose case is, I believe, unique. It is a boy fourteen years old, who was born blind and deaf, and of course dumb. His senses of touch and smell have a wonderful degree of acuteness; for by these alone he has acquired a very accurate knowledge of external things, and is able to know readily his old acquaintances from strangers. The powers of his mind are vigorous. He is evidently capable of reflexion and reasoning, and is warmly attached to his parents. He has a most delicate palate, and partakes only of the most simple food. I have couched one of his eyes successfully; and he is much amused with the visible world, though he mistrusts information gained by that avenue. One day I got him a new and gaudy suit of clothes, which delighted him beyond description. It was the most interesting scene of sensual gratification I ever beheld." "1

The first idea which struck me on receiving this intelligence was, that so extraordinary a combination of circumstances might perhaps afford a favourable opportunity of verifying or of correcting, in an unequivocal manner, some of those details in Cheselden's celebrated narrative, about which considerable doubts have been lately entertained, in consequence of their dis

the emotion of laughter; an emotion of which Milton has justly said

Smiles from reason flow,

To brutes denied."

But, above all, a capacity of carrying on intercourse with other rational beings by means of conventional signs. How far the culture of his intellectual powers might have been carried by the improvement and extension of these rudiments of language, it is difficult to conjecture.

The substance of this Appendix might,

I am sensible, have been introduced here in an abridged form; but as the value of the particulars contained in it depends entirely upon their authenticity and accuracy, it appeared to me more proper to reprint it literally as it was at first written. The reader will thus be enabled to judge for himself of the evidence on which every fact rests, which I have thought it of importance to record.

1810.

This letter was dated October 4,