earned something about the
homo caudatus as spoken of by Linnxus, and as shown me in photograph by
Dr. Priestley. This child is a candidate for the vacant place of Missing
Link.

In accounting for the blunders, and even gross blunders, which, sooner
or later, one who writes much is pretty sure to commit, I must not
forget the part played by the blind spot or idiotic area in the brain,
which I have already described.

The most knowing persons we meet with are sometimes at fault. Nova
onania possumus omnes is not a new nor profound axiom, but it is well to
remember it as a counterpoise to that other truly American saying of the
late Mr. Samuel Patch, "Some things can be done as well as others." Yes,
some things, but not all things. We all know men and women who hate
to admit their ignorance of anything. Like Talkative in "Pilgrim's
Progress," they are ready to converse of "things heavenly or things
earthly; things moral or things evangelical; things sacred or things
profane; things past or things to come; things foreign or things at
home; things more essential or things circumstantial."

Talkative is apt to be a shallow fellow, and to say foolish things about
matters he only half understands, and yet he has his place in
society. The specialists would grow to be intolerable, were they not
counterpoised to some degree by the people of general intelligence. The
man who knows too much about one particular subject is liable to become
a terrible social infliction. Some of the worst bores (to use plain
language) we ever meet with are recognized as experts of high grade in
their respective departments. Beware of making so much as a pinhole in
the dam that holds back their knowledge. They ride their hobbies without
bit or bridle. A poet on Pegasus, reciting his own verses, is hardly
more to be dreaded than a mounted specialist.

One of the best offices which women perform for men is that of tasting
books for them. They may or may not be profound students,--some of
them are; but we do not expect to meet women like Mrs. Somerville, or
Caroline Herschel, or Maria Mitchell at every dinner-table or afternoon
tea. But give your elect lady a pile of books to look over for you, and
she will tell you what they have for her and for you in less time than
you would have wasted in stupefying yourself over a single volume.

One of the encouraging signs of the times is the condensed and
abbreviated form in which knowledge is presented to th