r novel situation.
I have since learned, however, that this want of observation is a sad
and very common infirmity of human nature, there being hundreds of
persons before whose eyes the most wonderful things are passing every
day who nevertheless, are totally ignorant of them. I therefore have to
record my sympathy with such persons, and to recommend to them a course
of conduct which I have now for a long time myself adopted--namely, the
habit of forcing my attention upon all things that go on around me, and
of taking some degree of interest in them whether I feel it naturally or
not. I suggest this the more earnestly, though humbly, because I have
very frequently come to know that my indifference to a thing has
generally been caused by my ignorance in regard to it.
We had much serious conversation on this subject of the tides; and Jack
told us, in his own quiet, philosophical way, that these tides did great
good to the world in many ways, particularly in the way of cleansing the
shores of the land, and carrying off the filth that was constantly
poured into the sea therefrom--which, Peterkin suggested, was remarkably
tidy of it to do. Poor Peterkin could never let slip an opportunity to
joke, however inopportune it might be, which at first we found rather a
disagreeable propensity, as it often interrupted the flow of very
agreeable conversation--and, indeed, I cannot too strongly record my
disapprobation of this tendency in general; but we became so used to it
at last that we found it no interruption whatever. Indeed, strange to
say, we came to feel that it was a necessary part of our enjoyment (such
is the force of habit), and found the sudden outbursts of mirth,
resulting from his humorous disposition, quite natural and refreshing to
us in the midst of our more serious conversations. But I must not
misrepresent Peterkin. We often found, to our surprise, that he knew
many things which we did not; and I also observed that those things
which he learned from experience were never forgotten. From all these
things I came at length to understand that things very opposite and
dissimilar in themselves, when united, do make an agreeable whole; as,
for example, we three on this our island, although most unlike in many
things, when united, made a trio so harmonious that I question if there
ever met before such an agreeable triumvirate. There was, indeed, no
note of discord whatever in the symphony we played together on th
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