more of them; and shall therefore quote some paragraphs of a theoretical character, and that consequently have a wider sweep.

Lord Brougham attributes the inferiority of animal intelligence as compared with man's, in some measure to the inferiority of their physical organization :

"The want of fingers endowed with a nice sense of touch is an obstruction to the progress of all, or almost all the lower animals. The elephant's trunk is, no doubt, a partial exception; and accordingly, his sagacity is greater than that of almost any other beast. The monkey would have a better chance of learning the nature of external objects, if his thumb were not on the same side of his hand with his fingers, whereby he cannot handle and measure objects as we do, whose chief knowledge of size and form is derived from the goniometer of the finger and thumb, the moveable angle which their motion and position give us. Insects work with infinite nicety by means of their antennæ; when these are removed, they cease to work at all, as Huber clearly proved. Clearly, this different external conformation, together with their inferior degree of reason, is sufficient to account for brutes having been stationary, and for their being subdued to use, as the Deity intended they should when he appointed this difference."

Let each reader decide for himself how far this doctrine goes to support the system of materialists. We know that the human fingers or hand is, from its nervous organization, the principal organ of touch. But there are other external senses, in the case of each of which some of the lower animals are wonderfully more sensitive and nicely endowed than man is; and yet their intelligence remains always at the same inferior distance that it did thousands of years ago; this latter fact shewing us at the same time that animal intelligence is not unlimitedly progressive, though it be in certain cases transmissible.

Among the passages which have a theoretical comprehensiveness, and that contain the author's principal conclusions, we shall give

one or two more:

"B. First of all, be pleased to observe that many philosophers altogether deny, even to man, the power of forming abstract ideas. The dispute of the Nominalists and Realists, so well ridiculed by Swift, or rather by Arbuthnot in Scriblerus,' is as old as metaphysical inquiries, under one name or another. They consider it impossible for us really to form these abstractions, and hold that we only are using words and not dealing with ideas, just as you seem to think we do in alegebraical language. Mr. Stewart is among those who conceive that we think in language. My opinion, if against such venerable authority I may venture to hold one, is different. I think we have ideas independent of language, and I do not see how otherwise a person born deaf, and dumb, and blind, can have ideas at all; which I know they have, because I carefully examined the one of whom Mr. Stewart has given so interesting an account. Indeed, he has recorded the experiment of the musical snuff-box, which I then made upon this unhappy but singular boy. But, next, I am to shew you that abstraction

independent of algebra, or metaphysical reasoning altogether, is neither difficult nor painful. Without abstraction we cannot classify in any way, or make any approach to classification. Now, I venture to say, that no human being, be he ever so stupid, is without some power of classification, nay, that he is constantly exercising it with great care, and almost unavoidably, and acting upon the inferences to which it leads. He can tell a man from a horse. How? By attending to those things in which they differ. But he can also tell a stone from both, and he knows that the stone is different from both. How? By attending to those things in which the two animals agree, and to those things in which they differ from the stone. So every person, having accurate eyes and the use of speech, can call a sheet of paper and a patch of snow both white; a piece of hot iron and of hot brick both hot. He has, therefore, the idea in his mind of colour and of heat in these several cases, independent of other qualities, that is, abstracted from other qualities; he classifies the white bodies together independent of their differences; the hot bodies independent of theirs; and he contrasts the white metal with the snow, because they differ in temperature, without regarding their agreeing together in colour. All this is abstraction, and all this is quite level to the meanest capacity of men. But is it not also level to brute intellect? Unquestionably all animals know their mates and their own kind. A dog knows his master, knows that he is not a dog, and that he differs from other men. In these very ordinary operations, we see the animal mind at one time passing over certain resemblances and fixing on differences; at another time disregarding differences and fixing only on resemblances. Nay, go lower in the scale. A bull is enraged by a red colour, be the form of the body what you please. A fish is caught by means of a light, be it of any size or any form."

Better still

"A. I think we may go a step further; have not animals some kind of language? At all events they understand ours. A horse knows the encouraging or chiding sound of voice and whip, and moves or stops accordingly. Whoever uses the sound, and in whatever key or loudness, the horse acts alike. But they seem also to have some knowledge of conventional signs. If I am to teach a dog or a pig to do certain things on a given signal, the process I take to be this. I connect his obedience with reward, his disobedience with punishment. But this only gives him the motive to obey, the fear of disobeying. It in no way can give him the means of connecting the act with the sign. Now, connecting the two together, whatever be the manner in which the sign is made, it is abstraction; but it is more, it is the very kind of abstraction in which all language has its origin-the connecting the sign with the thing signified; for the sign is purely arbitrary in this case as much as in human language.

"B. May we not add that they have some conventional signs among themselves? How else are we to explain their calls? The cock grouse calls the hen; the male the female of many animals. The pigeon, and the fieldfare, and the crow, make signals; and the wild horse is a clear case of signals. All this implies not only abstraction, but that very kind of abstraction which gives us our language. It is, in fact, a language which they possess, though simple and limited in its range.

A. As to the power of comparing, what is commonly called reason, par excellence, comprising judgment and reasoning, this needs not detain us very long. The facts here are not well liable to dispute. There is no possibility of explaining the many cases which we began by going over without allowing this power. They all prove it in some degree. Several of them shew it to exist in a very considerable degree. The acts of some birds and monkeys cannot be accounted for by instinct; for they are the result of experience; and they are performed with a perfect knowledge of the end in view; they are directed peculiarly to that end; they vary according as the circumstances in which they are performed alter, and the alteration made is always so contrived as to suit the variation in the circumstances. Some of these acts shew more sagacity, according to Mr. Locke's observation, than is possessed by many men. The existence of a comparing and contriving power is, therefore, plain enough. And, on the whole, I conceive that a rational mind cannot be denied to the animals, however inferior in degree their faculties may be to our own."

But this rationality is still different from the human, in kind as well as in degree, as we understand the author, taking the whole of the dissertation, although the difference is not very consistently maintained. He says, it is a question of relations and connections -of adaptation, adjustment, mutual dependence of parts, conformity of arrangement, balance, and compensation; these things appearing in every department, and pervading the whole system of animated creation. Accordingly it signifies not whether we regard instinct

"As the result of the animal's faculties actuated by the impressions of his senses, or as the faint glimmerings of intelligence working by the same rules which guide the operations of more developed reason, or as a peculiar faculty differing in kind from those with which man is endowed, or as the immediate and direct operation of the Great Mind which created and which upholds the universe. If the last be indeed the true theory, then we have additional reason for devoutly admiring the spectacle which this department of the creation hourly offers to the contemplative mind. But the same conclusion of a present and pervading intelligence flows from all the other doctrines, and equally flows from them all."

And this is the safe conclusion to which all such speculations should be brought. A reference to Lord Monboddo's strange and whimsical theory may aptly be quoted after the last extract, and at the same time aptly conclude our samples of a work that will increase the celebrity even of Lord Brougham:

"B. I consider it a thing just as little supported by the facts as it is repugnant to all known systems of theology. But my objection to it is really not founded upon its tendency to lower human nature. On the contrary, I doubt if it does not rather exalt our faculties beyond all the ordinary doctrines, and draw a broader line of distinction between us and the lower animals, than that which it was intended to efface. For surely

if we have not only by our intelligence made the great progress from a rude to a refined state-from the New Zealander to Laplace, and Newton, and Lagrange-but have also, by the help of the same faculties, made the progress from the state of monkeys and baboons, while all other animals are the same from one generation to another, and have made not single step for sixty centuries, and never have attempted in a single instance to store up for after-times the experience of a former age, our faculties must needs be immeasurably superior to theirs. In short, the only question is as to the nature of the difference."

ART. VII.-The Boot and Shoe Trade. By JAMES DELVIN. London : Steil. 1839.

THE subject of costumes is curious and interesting. Dress is an object which everybody thinks of. It forms a distinct and important trade; or, we should be more inclined to call it, profession; it constitutes a very large branch of commerce. We should be somewhat at a loss to determine whether civilized or barbarous nations are most occupied by the cares of the toilet. Certainly a full-dressed savage makes a wonderful display of art. His painted face and decked head, the variety of colours which he fancies, the torturing of his hair, the pouch and moccasin skilfully embroidered with variegated porcupine quills, the cloak of gorgeous feathers, or cloth of bark, indicate plainly, that his attention has been directed with no slight degree of patience and contrivance to this all-important object. And we doubt not, that as much anxiety is expended upon his toilet, as the votary of civilized fashion gives to his.

We should be almost afraid to compute how large a portion of our time is occupied, either in dressing or thinking about dress. It may be safely asserted, however, that half-civilized nations display more taste in their costumes than the absolutely savage or the highly refined. Besides, there is this peculiarity in the case of the mediate condition, that it appears to arrive at and keep by a uniform style. The people know what colours and what forms they are to use, by adopting and never imagining that another sort can be entertained than that which their ancestors have worn for centuries. Therefore little time can be wasted by them in this department. What in the world can the fair in such a country find to supply the place of that deep interest which the subject affords to the happier heirs of civilization? Just think of a country where there is no such thing as fashion! where a blooming damsel must dress like her great grandmother; and where the morning and the evening require no change, no difference! No new shapes in the matter of bonnets to study, no alteration in the style of the waist, the flounces, the sleeves! Ah! the half-civilized must be dull and stupid.

It might well occupy the most ingenious speculations of a fanciful philosopher were he to choose for his theme the causes which have in different countries affected the forms of dress. It would be reason

able, for instance, to attribute a good deal to climate. The peculiar taste in the fine arts, as we shall see, that obtains among any people, will naturally reach the matter of costume. Still, how are we to account for the people of Persia dressing at the present day as they did in the times of Cyrus, while the forms of England and France have been constantly changing, at least since the times of the Roman conquests, much of the intermediate period being identified with the people of these countries while in a condition not more advanced than that of the Persians? How shall we account for anomalies in costume? Why does civilization in different countries affect people differently? Let each one pursue, as his opportunities and tastes prompt, the inquiry for himself: it will be sufficient for us to note some facts, that may help to the construction of a theory.

There is certainly no way in which taste, whatever it is, displays itself more than in dress; and, as far as nationality of costume exists, there will, we think, be found a certain correspondence in this department and that of the fine arts. Thus, the Egyptian costume would be very different from that of Greece and Rome. The dress of one age, too, would vary from that of another in the same country. The costume of a cavalier in the thirteenth or fourteenth century would not be in exact conformity with that of a Roman in the days of Cicero, any more than the temples were. A difference in the ceremonies of religion, in the weapons and art of war, and, perhaps, still more in architecture, would affect the forms of dress.

We shall find this last-mentioned influence strikingly illustrated. The architecture of the Egyptians was stiff, graceless, square, massive, and solid. Now the ancient dress of that extraordinary people is strongly marked, and analogous to their pyramids and obelisks, though not imitative or copies. The closely-wrapped body, showing the whole outline of the figure, the bare arms, the small cap, with its wings or pendants, making the neck as broad as the shoulders, were all in keeping not merely with the style in which the same people set out their mummies, but to the harmonies in colossal taste which distinguished their statues and public or sacred buildings.

How different is the Asiatic dress! There we have flowing tunics and loose trousers, the folds being ample and the reverse of stiff, conferring on man a dignity and grandeur, of which, by the aid of art, he is so susceptible.

Then, to come to the classic costume, how remarkably is it in keeping with the taste displayed by the Greeks and Romans in other things! First of all, with regard to the former people, observe the great pains they bestowed upon the arrangement of the hair. Writers on costumes distinguish the different ages by the changes in this particular. The earliest style was characterized by primness, the hair being divided into symmetrical curls, somewhat in the corkscrew form; and the dress was made to correspond with this by