being
brought to the den--a child accustomed, in all probability, to
tyrannise over the whelps of pariah dogs and other young animals, they
would find it far easier to play than to kill; and if we only suppose
the whole family going to sleep together, and the parents bringing
home fresh food in the morning--contingencies not highly
improbable--the mystery is solved, although the marvel remains. It may
be added, that such wolves as we have an opportunity of observing in
menageries, are always gentle and playful when young, and it is only
time that develops the latent ferocity of a character the most
detestable, perhaps, in the whole animal kingdom. Cowardly and cruel
in equal proportion, the wolf has no defenders. 'In short,' says
Goldsmith--probably translating Buffon, for we have not the latter at
hand to ascertain--'every way offensive, a savage aspect, a frightful
howl, an insupportable odour, a perverse disposition, fierce habits,
he is hateful while living, and useless when dead.'

But what, then, is man, whom mere accidental association for a few
years can strip of the faculties inherent in his race and convert into
a wolf? The lower animals retain their instincts in all circumstances.
The kitten, brought up from birth on its mistress's lap, imbibes none
of her tastes in food or anything else. It rejects vegetables, sweets,
fruits, all drinks but water or milk, and although content to satisfy
its hunger with dressed meat, darts with an eager growl upon raw
flesh. Man alone is the creature of imitation in good or in bad. His
faculties and instincts, although containing the _germ_ of everything
noble, are not independent and self-existing like those of the brutes.
This fact accounts for the difference observable, in an almost
stereotyped form, in the different classes of society; it affords a
hint to legislators touching their obligation to use the power they
possess in elevating, by means of education, the character of the more
degraded portions of the community; and it brings home to us all the
great lesson of sympathy for the bad as well as the afflicted--both
victims alike of _circumstances_, over which they in many cases have
nearly as little control as the wild children of the desert.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See 'The Rudimental,' in No. 391.

[2] A paper on this subject will be found in _Chambers's Miscellany of
Useful and Entertaining Tracts_, vol. v. No. 48.

[3] See 'Gang-Robbers of India,' in Nos. 360 and