Page:Popular Science Monthly Volume 15.djvu/121

Rh was a filthy swamp in winter, and covered with dunghills in summer; tan-works and magnesia-works poured their refuse into open ditches of small declivity all around the place. The public drain from two humble localities of Edinburgh ran uncovered past the dwelling, and the house itself was connected with his father's brewery. A more unhealthy residence could hardly be conceived. The two-story house contained two rooms, a kitchen and bedroom on the lower, and three rooms and a very small bedroom on the upper floor. When Combe was about ten years old an additional room and bedroom were built. At about this time (1798) the family consisted of the parents, thirteen children, and the servants, all crowded into these small rooms. Combe says, "The conditions of health and disease were wholly unknown, the mind being regarded as independent of the body, and the constant sickness and many deaths in the family were never thought of in connection with these material surroundings."

Combe thought that if people only knew better they would do better; but after a lapse of eighty years, and with our abundant knowledge of sanitary science, it seems that in the public schools of New York to-day the conditions of health and disease are frequently no more thought of than they were in Edinburgh when Combe was a child.

It will be observed that, in telling us about his education, Combe all the while distinguishes sharply between his real education and his nominal education. His knowledge of mental science, such as it was, helped him to interpret his own experiences. The things he remembers are to him indexes to his natural gifts, as the strongest impressions would be made on his predominant faculties. By this means he discovers the emotional bias that shaped his life, in the incidents of a summer spent on his uncle's farm when he was three or four years old. His first remembered lesson was given him here by one James Reid, a young farmer who came often to visit his aunt and cousins. Combe says of him:

He was a clever, intelligent person, and fond of jokes and fun. He gave me a large red field-turnip, hollowed it out, cut a nose, mouth, and eyes in one side, put a candle within, and astonished me by the apparition of a human face with a dark-purple skin. He taught me to give myself a number of ridiculous names, such as Timothy, Peter, Baldy, Elshinder, and so forth; and for the sport which this afforded he gave me a halfpenny. The list was closed with the name "Scoundrel Grant" (the familiar name of a mean man in Edinburgh); and I observed that when I wound up by giving myself this appellation there was a loud shout of laughter from all the company. This hearty laugh led me to suspect something wrong in that name, and I stopped short at it. Mr. Reid tempted me with another halfpenny to complete the list, and I reluctantly uttered "Scoundrel Grant." The reward was given amid shouts of laughter, and for the first time I became conscious of conflicting emotions. I was as much ashamed of the name as I was pleased by the money, and when I was at length told what "Scoundrel Grant" meant no power on earth could induce me to give myself the name.