Nature and Human Nature

by Thomas Chandler Haliburton

“I have often asked myself, Slick,” said he, “the same question, for nothing is made in vain, but it is a query not easy to answer. My own opinion is, they were designed to enforce civilisation. Without these terrors attending a sojourn in the wilderness, man would have wandered off as they do, and lived alone; he would have made no home, dwelt with no wife, and nurtured no children. His descendants would have done the same. When he encountered another male, he would have given him battle, perhaps killed and eat him. His very language would have perished, if ever he had any, and he would have been no better than an ourang-outang. The option was not given him. He was so constructed and so situated, he could not live alone. Individual strength was insufficient for independent existence. To preserve life he had to herd with his kind. Thus tribes were first formed, and to preserve one tribe from the violence of another, they again united and formed nations. This combination laid the foundation of civilisation, and as that extended, these beasts of prey retired to the confines of the country, enforcing while they still remain the observance of that law of nature which assigned to them this outpost duty.

“Where there is nothing revealed to us on the subject, all is left to conjecture. Whatever the cause was, we know it was a wise and a necessary one; and this appears to me to be the most plausible reason I can assign. Perhaps we may also trace a further purpose in their creation, in compelling by the terror they inspire the inferior animals to submit themselves to man, who is alone able to protect them against their formidable enemies, or to congregate, so that he may easily find them when he requires food; and may we not further infer that man also may by a similar sense of weakness be led to invoke in like manner the aid of Him who made all things and governs all things? Whatever is, is right,” and then he quoted two Latin lines.

I hate to have a feller do that, it’s like throwin’ an apple into the water before a boy. He either has to lose it and go off disappointed, wonderin’ what its flavour is, or else wade out for it, and like as not get out of his depth afore he knows where he is. So I generally make him first translate it, and then write it down for me. He ain’t likely after that to do it a second time. Here are the words:

“Siquid novisti rectius istis
Candidas imperti, si non his utere mecum.”

[CHAPTER XXIV.]
THE CUCUMBER LAKE.

“Here is a place under the lee bow,” said the pilot, “in which there are sure to be some coasters, among whom the mate may find a market for his wares, and make a good exchange for his mackarel.”

So we accordingly entered and cast anchor among a fleet of fore-and-afters in one of those magnificent ports with which the eastern coast is so liberally supplied.

“There is some good salmon-fishing in the stream that falls into the harbour,” said the doctor, “suppose we try our rods;” and while Cutler and his people were occupied in traffic, we rowed up the river beyond the little settlement, which had nothing attractive in it, and landed at the last habitation we could see. Some thirty or forty acres had been cleared of the wood, the fields were well fenced, and a small stock of horned cattle, principally young ones, and a few sheep, were grazing in the pasture. A substantial rough log hut and barn were the only buildings. With the exception of two little children playing about the door, there were none of the family to be seen.

On entering the house, we found a young woman, who appeared to be its sole occupant. She was about twenty-five years of age; tall, well formed, strong, and apparently in the enjoyment of good health and spirits. She had a fine open countenance, an artless and prepossessing manner, and was plainly but comfortably clad in the ordinary homespun of the country, and not only looked neat herself, but everything around her was beautifully clean. It was manifest she had been brought up in one of the older townships of the province, for there was an ease and air about her somewhat superior to the log hut in which we found her. The furniture was simple and of rude manufacture, but sufficient for the wants of a small family, though here and there was an article of a different kind and old-fashioned shape, that looked as if it had once graced a substantial farm-house, probably a present from the inmates of the old homestead.

We soon found from her that she and her husband were as she said new beginners, who, like most persons in the wilderness, had had many difficulties to contend with, which from accidental causes had during the past year been greatly increased. The weavil had destroyed their grain crop and the rot their potatoes, their main dependence, and they had felt the pressure of hard times. She had good hopes however she said for the present season, for they had sowed the golden straw wheat, which they heard was exempt from the ravages of insects, and their potatoes had been planted early on burnt land without barn manure, and she was confident they would thereby be rescued from the disease. Her husband, she informed us, in order to earn some money to make up for their losses, had entered on board of an American fishing vessel, and she was in daily expectation of his arrival, to remain at home until the captain should call for him again, after he had landed his cargo at Portland. All this was told in a simple and unaffected manner, but there was a total absence of complaint or despondency, which often accompany the recital of such severe trials.