which we are enabled to keep them in subjection; for what such brutal creatures are, is a striking picture of what, but for the principles of reason, of conscience, and restraint, we must certainly have been.

It would be unpardonable not to observe, how happily and unavoidably this study terminates in the conviction, the knowledge, and the adoration, of His being, perfection, and government, from whom so much life, so much bliss, and so many forms, originate. For who can steadily survey the great line of animation, as it runs and disseminates through the whole system of existence, without tracing it to a fountain totally inexhaustible! And what are all created beings, but the limited efflux of a principle that has no limits, of a life superior to all our ideas of dependence and supply, and which is circumscribed by no modification of time or place! The universe may thus be considered as one great and living temple, consecrated to His service and worship who made it; and should not the various tribes which mingle so much sweetness, magnificence, and solemnity, with the scenery, strike us as so many incentives to an operative, a rational, and sublime devotion? Do not the stations they fill, the propensities they indulge, and the destination they supply, put us in mind of that wisdom which is but the instrument of benignity, of that goodness which communicates being only to communicate bliss, and of that power, which, for the best of purposes, confines every part of nature to her original destination? The very means of subsistence with which every district in the animal world is furnished, illustrate, in a manner singularly conspicuous and interesting, the constant attention of a benevolent and paternal Providence to the necessities of the least, as well as of the most exalted, creatures; in short, the various arts by which the weak so frequently and surprisingly escape the stratagems and enterprises of the strong, is more than a bare presumption, that a kind paternal Divinity is not less deeply concerned in the management of the moral, than of the natural world; that virtue, however degraded at present by the mortifying superiority of vice, must be ultimately triumphant; and that injured innocence and suffering worth, though sometimes subjected to the indignant treatment of supercilious petulance, are yet regarded by indulgent Heaven with infinite tenderness and unchangeable approbation.

Apart from every other consideration, the subject seems of itself sufficiently engaging to merit universal attention.

Is there not something sublimely beautiful and pleasing in the general idea of life's putting on such a vast variety of different appearances? Here we perceive the same various and mysterious principle, from which all our senses and powers originate, as perfect and proportionably operative in a gnat as in a giant; and an object, which the finest microscope can hardly distinguish, equally possessed of that invisible and wonderful agency, which puts the largest in motion at pleasure; indeed, we recognize nothing but life wherever we turn our eyes: the elements, thus combined and modified by its influence, uniformly and every where exhibit the same beauteous and variegated phenomena. And where can imagination roam with so much innocent and exalted delight, as among the many charms of novelty and grace, which in this manner decorate the animal kingdom? From these, poetry borrows her purest descriptions, eloquence her sweetest flowers, and painting her chastest drapery; in truth, we have no conception at all of that universal genius whence nature and art derive every perfection and excellence, but from the infinite configurations which life assumes, and which regularly beget their correspondent images in the mind; so that, while taste is pleased with elegance, and the heart susceptible of sympathy, the study of Zoography must be interesting.

The strong and obvious attachment which women discover to prettiness, vivacity, variety, and beauty of all kinds, points out this particular branch of science as peculiarly congenial to their taste. It possesses, indeed, that delicate and lively species of elegance of which they are generally most fond, in a degree greatly superior to any other part of natural history. Botany, for example, which is the next capital article in the same universal system, for the most part occupies those only who have no relish for the charms of society. And there can be no very exquisite pleasure in the study of what has been found so frequently the amusement of the cynics, misers, and hypocrites. Where there is no life, there must be very little entertainment; and the inanimate beauties of Nature have no power of pleasing,

In this sentiment, the editors beg to be understood as by no means concurring. Whilst the disinterested benevolence of a Linnæus the genuine piety of a Ray-the sociability of a Darwin-the patriotism of a Chretien Smith, are strong in their recollections; they must exempt from the general admiration of the sentiments and style of this essay, (the writer of which is unknown to them,) the passage which condemns the study of a science, which such men as these so ardently and successfully pursued.

but as affecting indications of a living, though invisible, original. And nothing corresponds more naturally and exactly to the native urbanity of the feminine mind, than anecdotes of animal life. The whole scene is every where alive, and equally big with novelty and instruction. Here we have no statues, to deaden the prospect; no dumbshews, to fill us with unmeaning admiration; no unnatural associations, to stagger credulity, and disgust the general taste: but the actors are all in motion, and every part they perform is as amusing as it must be useful.

Into such a pleasing and profitable science, our youth cannot, surely, be too early initiated. While the human mind is yet neither fatigued in the acquisition of knowledge, nor palled by the repetition of experience, stories of all kinds are peculiarly acceptable. In the beginning of life, especially, the passions of wonder and surprise are almost the only ones we feel; and hence it is, that we find ourselves so deeply interested in the fate of what, or whoever, comes within our cognizance. The only species of composition suited to our tender capacities at that early period of life, is description and narration; for being then merely capable of comprehending only the simplest ideas, the least complicated instructions are most easily understood, as well as most easily remembered.

To this leading characteristic of human nature in its infant state, may, perhaps, be attributed that dreadful deluge of novel writing which at present overflows the public. Indeed, such is the taste and avidity for this species of literary entertainment, that there is hardly any success connected with serious composition. Were the mechanism of an interesting narrative so happily conducted as to leave some worthy impression on the mind, such a mode of addressing the rising generation might be adopted with the greatest propriety, as it would then be subservient to the best of purposes; but as it is now managed, does it not produce the most palpable and lasting mischief both to the minds and morals of youth? Is not vice, in such vehicles of profligacy and impiety as these, perpetually flouncing in all the gaiety of wit? And is not virtue as constantly exhibited in the dullest, the most awkward and disgusting light imaginable? Yes, every spark of vivacity, in the whole compass of three or four tedious and languid volumes, is lent in all its lustre to heighten, forsooth, the ideal consequence of some flagitious or rascally character; while the least degree of sentiment or worth, which happens to creep in

as it were by accident, is so wretchedly associated as to appear totally shocking. Besides, the story is often so pitifully told, the style so flimsy, the remarks are so trite and impertinent, and every thing is so full of levity and insipidity, that the mere perusal of so much frippery and fantastic nonsense must unavoidably enervate the mind.

Zoography presents to the rising intellect a very different object here we have a chain of well-connected facts, all leading to one and the same important conclusion. Sensibility is not queased with ideas of romance; uniformity satiates not the fancy; nor is reason startled by improbable conjecture; so that the whole may be considered as a pleasing introduction to a liberal acquaintance with the general theory of nature, where science is replete with utility, and instruction produces improvement. Thus, in contemplating a subject at once so full of amusement and information, we find the whole complexion of things heightened with additional embellishment, the acquisition of knowledge made easy by a new accession of ideas, and our relish of life considerably improved by a more extensive and lively circle of enjoyment.

SIRS,

On Making an Index.

TO THE EDITORS OF THE INVESTIGATOR.

THOUGH an Index-maker is one of those members in the republic of letters, who is commonly spoken of with great contempt; yet if his merits be duly considered, and his real utility and worth allowed, he ought to rank very high indeed. If it be a praise to write an instructive and useful book, surely he who renders it doubly, nay trebly, nay tenfold, more useful, is not to be despised; and that a book is really so much more useful for having an index, I have no hesitation in pronouncing. Great is the praise due to a Patrick, a Lowth, and a Whitby, to a Lardner, a Leland, and a Doddridge; but all the commentators on the Bible put together have not, perhaps, done so much towards making it understood, and its readers to be "wise unto salvation," by "comparing spiritual things with spiritual," as the labours of a CRUDEN, and those his predecessors, upon whose foundations he built his wonderful superstructure. If time be one of the most valuable of worldly articles, he who, by devoting his own, saves theirs to thousands and tens of thousands besides, is surely a most valuable

member of society. How many hours, formerly, must have been expended in searching for a text, to which, now, with a concordance we can turn in a minute. But it is not only in these great matters, but even in those of less concern, even to the merchant's ledger, and the housewife's receipt-book, that the index affords its time-saving and patience-saving assistance; and every one, who can contribute at all to the promoting and facilitating of these, is, in my estimation, a benefactor to society.

2

I have myself, Sirs, been a dabbler in authorship for several years; and, duly aware of the value of an index, I had made several indexes to works, but with a great expenditure of time, trouble, patience, and paper. I had begun by setting apart a page, or more, for each letter, and used to begin, for instance, by setting down a word, beginning with A. B. at the top of the A. page, A. w. at the bottom, and A. L. in the middle; and, so go on, interlining, till, perhaps, the whole of my space was filled up, and I had to add on the opposite leaf, or above, or below, and to begin numbering the words, or articles, in the order in which they should come; till, at length, the whole got so confused, that I had to copy it all over again for the printer; and, what with the looking up and down, to right hand and left, and turning backwards and forwards, from A. to z. and from z. to B., an index was not accomplished without much labour and vexation. At length, I published a work of more importance, and having a wish (as I suppose most authors have) that it should be read, and not only read, but remembered, and often referred to and consulted, I determined to have more than one index. But recollecting my former labours, with some degree of dread of having them repeated on a greater scale, I thought that there must be some shorter and more direct method some "royal road," as it were. I then made some inquiries, where I thought I might obtain information, of my printer and brother authors; but without success. I thought I recollected to have read in Boswell's Life of Johnson, the mechanical assistances of which he made use in compiling his Dictionary, and I consulted that work, both by the index, and by search in the volumes themselves; but my search was fruitless. I consulted Dictionaries and Encyclopædias, still to no purpose: at length I applied to a very intelligent printer, and he unfolded to me the grand arcanum, and most valuable do I consider the information to be. Wishing then to see almost every book with its index, and to impart to others all the knowledge I have obtained on the subject,