FROM A NEW ENGLAND HILLSIDE. 143 



motions than any other living thing, even 

 than a kitten, and yet instead of enjoying 

 these, similar motions in other beings ex 

 cite in us a certain repulsion, at least poet 

 ically, because of this association. Is not 

 this really, in part, at least, a &quot;survival in 

 culture,&quot; a result of the traditional iden 

 tification of the serpent with the supposed 

 embodiment of the principle of evil ? 



We are magazines, full of these remnants 

 of the past, which sometimes wear out, but 

 often long endure to colour our opinions 

 and our reasoning, and control our action. 

 Our whole social structure is based upon 

 them, and the e|fort to effect a sudden rev 

 olution is as senseless as anything of which 

 you can conceive. Why is it good form to 

 sell certain things by the ton, but ignoble 

 to sell them by the pound? Why is ser 

 vice in a store or office respectable, and 

 service in a house menial ? Why is a cer 

 tain kind of service paid for at a certain 

 rate, and another service, just as simple, 

 paid for at four times that rate ? Why, a 

 thousand things that pass before us every 

 day without attracting our observation, sim 

 ply because we have always been accus 

 tomed to them? We do not know anything 

 more, than that under the interaction of the 



