of these 'babes in the
wood'; and till, moreover, it can be shown that they would have survived
this experiment so as to preserve the characteristics of humanity a
little better than the 'wild boy of Germany,' and were fit to be the
heads of the human family,--I shall at times be strangely tempted
to embrace any theory as infinitely more probable. I cannot think it
was in this way that our first parents made their entree into the
world. I hope not, for the credit of the Creator, as well as for
the happiness of his offspring. Of the moral bearings of such a
brutal theory, I say nothing; but if it can be true, all I can say
is, that I am glad that you and I, my dear Fellowes, are not the
immediate children but so fortunate as to be only the great-great
--great-great-grandchildren of God! You have well called it a 'cruel
experiment'; according to this, the first Father of all thrust forth
his children into the world to be for an indefinite time worse than
the beasts, who were carefully provided against miserable man's
inconveniences! Certainly, I think you may alter the account of man's
creation given in Genesis, to great advantage. Instead of God's saying,
'Let us create man in our image, he must be supposed to have said,
'Let us create man in the image of a BEAST: and in the image of a BEAST
created he him, male and female created he them'; and very imperfect
beasts they must have been, after all. This is that old savage theory
which I had supposed was pretty well abandoned. If the necessity of
denying miracles imposes any necessity of believing that, I fear that
I shall sooner be got to believe a thousand."

"Well," said Fellowes, who seemed ashamed of this theory, but knew
not how to abandon it; "I cannot believe there have been any miracles,
and, what is more, I will not."

"That is perhaps the best reason you have given yet," said Harrington.
"The Will is indeed your only irresistible logician. You are one
degree, at all events, better off than I, for I can hardly say either
that I believe, or that I do not believe, in miracles."

"And yet," continued Harrington, after a pause, "two or three other
strange consequences seem to follow from that seemingly undeniable
principle on which we base the conclusion that there neither has
been nor can be any such thing as a miracle: in other words, a
departure from the established series of sequences which, as tested
by our own experience and by that of other men, we are con