be exceedingly unamiable. But the truth must be confessed that having
very quickly learnt the value of comparison and relation, a child
rejoices in the perception that what he has is better than what his
brother has; this comparison is a means of judging his fortune, after
all. It is true that if his brother showed distress, he might make haste
to offer an exchange. But the impulse of joy is candidly egotistic.

It is the sweet and entire forgiveness of children, who ask pity for
their sorrows from those who have caused them, who do not perceive that
they are wronged, who never dream that they are forgiving, and who make
no bargain for apologies--it is this that men and women are urged to
learn of a child. Graces more confessedly childlike they make shift to
teach themselves.




FAIR AND BROWN


George Eliot, in one of her novels, has a good-natured mother, who
confesses that when she administers justice she is obliged to spare the
offenders who have fair hair, because they look so much more innocent
than the rest. And if this is the state of maternal feelings where all
are more or less fair, what must be the miscarriage of justice in
countries where a _blond_ angel makes his infrequent visit within the
family circle?

In England he is the rule, and supreme as a matter of course. He is
"English," and best, as is the early asparagus and the young potato,