72 



KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



THE TONGUE. 



Thou art a might}' leveller, in sooth, 

 And in the twinkling of an eye canst slay 

 More marshalled foes with thy two-edged sweep, 

 Than Sampson in a century could fall. 



There seems to be an inveterate propen- 

 sity in all the animate creation to be always 

 making a noise during their waking hours. 

 And verily a good portion of the said creation 

 cannot remain quiet even in sleep ; but in 

 their dreams keep snoring and babbling at such 

 a rate, that a blind man would rind it difficult 

 in their society to tell when it was time to 

 go to bed. 



Whether this continued infringement on 

 the sober propriety of silence be the result 

 of habit, or some mysterious influence ope- 

 rating on the passions, it is not easy to de- 

 termine. It is not improbable, however, that 

 such a principle exists. We know that 

 gravitation controls and approximates eveiy 

 particle of matter, however remote or dis- 

 similar ; and why may not the principle of 

 sympathy have a like influence upon every 

 individual mind throughout the universe ? 



Now, on the supposition that this is so, 

 and that the theory of the ancients with 

 regard to sphere-music is correct, which tells 

 us that every orb has its individual and ap- 

 propriate melody, which, blending with the 

 music of all the others, forms the harmony 

 of creation — we can plausibly account for the 

 said propensity among the inhabitants of this 

 mundane sphere. For man being an .imitative 

 animal, and very susceptible of outward im- 

 pressions, cannot remain silent while all 

 nature is lifting up its voice around him. On, 

 what a noisy fellow a man is ! In the theatre 

 he shouts, hisses, or whistles ; and in Par- 

 liament he yells and imitates cats as well as 

 dogs. He must be heard, somewhere. He 

 loves the sound ©f his own voice. 



Apropos of sound ; there is a sort of 

 cacoethes imitandi which infests the tongue of 

 every living thing. It is not confined to man 

 alone, but to the lower animals also ; and you 

 may notice it, whenever you please, in the 

 country. It is really delightful to go out 

 into the fields of a summer morning just as 

 the day is breaking. At first all is still, 

 except the low dreamy sound of unfolding 

 yegetation, which is for ever stealing forth, 

 even in the deepest retirement of nature. 

 By-and-by, as the dawn advances, the voice 

 of some wakeful chanticleer breaks in upon 

 the stillness with a clear and silvery cadence, 

 — like the first note of a clarionet heard at 

 evening far away upon the waters ; and before 

 its last echo has expired. a response comes ring- 

 ing back from every " harem " in the valley. 

 Presently the robin commences his plaintive 

 but eccentric song, to be answered by his 

 mate in the neighboring coppice. Bird after 

 bird breaks in, till every grove is vocal with 



the mingled matin. Crow calls to crow from 

 the distant pine tops, and eagle screams to 

 eagle from opposite mountain peaks. 



Now the prime minister in the great dia- 

 pason of sound which rules our universe, is 

 the tongue — that apparently most insignificant 

 of all organisations. Place thy mirror before 

 thee, gentle reader, and examine it atten- 

 tively. Is it not a puny part and parcel of 

 humanity? Verily there appertains to it 

 nothing of the os hominis sublime. It hath 

 neither the rose-tint of the lip, nor the fair 

 beauty of the cheek, nor the fearless bearing 

 of the nose, nor the soul-speaking expression 

 of the eye, nor the princely grandeur of the 

 lift -d brow. It is a little squab, brandy- 

 colored, unsymmetrical, and unpoetical per- 

 sonage, without either dignity or comeliness. 

 The novelist gives you page after page about 

 the silken lashes, the radiant orbs, the glossy 

 locks, and the polished forehead of his 

 heroine ; but never does he waste a syllable 

 on the form or feature of her tongue. The 

 fact is, it is too prosaic for the dalliance of 

 his imagination ; and, besides, he is aware 

 that should he throw about it all the charms 

 which fancy can accumulate, the world would 

 set him down as a visionary, and assert out- 

 right, that though her face may be as beautiful 

 as a peri's, her tongue can be no better than 

 it should be. Being one of those common- 

 place objects which experience has always 

 found insignificant, it cannot be dignified by 

 tropes, nor exalted by high-sounding epithets. 

 Indeed, a simile would be utterly lost upon 

 it, if used to illustrate its shape rather than 

 its abilities ; for I know of nothing within 

 the whole circle of existence, to which it can 

 be compared with the least shadow of 

 resemblance. 



In form, the tongue is a physical anomaly, 

 a material nondescript,without "kith or kin ;" 

 and whoever should attempt to classify it 

 with any known species of objects, would 

 manifest as much reason in the undertaking, 

 as the idiot displayed wiien he set about 

 climbing a sapling to get a better view of the 

 stars. It seems as if Nature was ashamed of 

 her work, or why has she taken such pains 

 to hide it from observation ? For what other 

 possible purpose than as a concealed place 

 of banishment for this unsightly member, 

 could she have formed the mouth — that hor- 

 rible excavation in the " human face divine," 

 whose abyss has engulfed more fortunes than 

 the Norwegian maelstrom ? There she has 

 secreted it, "squat like a toad;" within a 

 double bastion of teeth, and a two-fold 

 curtain of lips ; and there, like the sibyl of 

 Delphos, invisible and in darkness, it 

 fashions its intrigues, and utters its varied 

 oracles. 



With all these defences, however, the 

 tongue is the most consummate coward in 



