The Brahmin, who had never left the sick man’s couch during his sleep, now that he was out of danger, was greatly diverted at the dispute.  But he good-naturedly added, that, notwithstanding the ridiculous figure they had that day made, they were all men of genius and ability, but had done their parts injustice by their vanity, and the ambition of originating a new theory.  “With all the extravagance,” said he, “to which they push their several systems, they are not unsuccessful in practice, for habitual caution, and an instinctive regard for human life, which they never can extinguish, checks them in carrying their hypotheses into execution:  and if I might venture to give an opinion on a subject of which I know so little, and there is so much to be known, I would say, that the most common error of theorists is to consider man as a machine, rather than an animal, and subject to one set of the laws of matter, rather than as subject to them all.

“Thus,” he continued, “we have been regarded by one class of theorists as an hydraulic engine, composed of various tubes fitted with their several fluids, the laws and functions of which have been deduced from calculations of velocities, altitudes, diameters, friction, &c.  Another class considered man as a mere chemical engine, and his stomach as an alembic.  The doctrine of affinities, attractions, and repulsions, now had full play.  Then came the notion of sympathies and antipathies, by which name unknown and unknowable causes were sought to be explained, and ignorance was cunningly veiled in mystery.  But the science will never be in the right tract of improvement, until we consider, conjointly, the mechanical operations of the fluids, the chemical agency of the substances taken into the stomach, and the animal functions of digestion, secretion, and absorption, as evinced by actual observation.”  I told him that I believed that was now the course which was actually pursued in the best medical schools, both of Europe and America.

Our worthy host, though very feeble, had so far recovered as to dress himself, and receive the congratulations of his household, who had all manifested a concern for his situation, that was at once creditable to him and themselves.  Expressing our gratitude for his kind attentions, and promising to renew our visit if we could, we bade him adieu.

We took a different road home from the way we had come, and had not walked far, before we met a number of small boys, each having a bag on his back, as large as he could stagger under.  Surprised at seeing children of their tender years, thus prematurely put to severe labour, I was about to rail at the absurd custom of this strange country, when my friend checked me for my hasty judgment, and told me that these boys were on their way to school, after their usual monthly holiday.  We attended them to their schoolhouse, which stood in sight, on the side of a steep chalky hill.  The Brahmin told me that the teacher’s