ficed had he been known, stood at his own palace gate. There he met with an old dependant, who had formerly served him with fidelity, and who was yet faithful to his memory; but age, and hardship, and care, and the disguise which he now wore, had so altered the wanderer, that the good Eumæus had not the most distant suspicion who it was he was talking to: and

Thus near the gate conferring as they drew,
Argus, the dog, his ancient master knew,
And, not unconscious of the voice and tread,
Lifts to the sound his ear, and rears his head.

He knew his lord! he knew, and strove to meet :
In vain he strove to crawl and kiss his feet:

Yet all he could, his tail, his ears, his eyes,
Salute his master, and confess his joys.

The recognition was mutual; but Ulysses dared not yet to discover himself.

Soft pity touch'd the mighty master's soul;
Adown his cheek a tear unbidden stole,

Stole unperceiv'd. He turn'd his head and dried
The drop humane; then thus impassion'd cried :-
"What noble beast in this abandon'd state

"Lies here all helpless at Ulysses' gate?

"Some care his age deserves; or was he prized

"For worthless beauty, therefore now despis'd?"

The monarch thought that he should hear how it had fared with his old favourite; or perhaps he wanted to know what was said of the master when the servant was thus abandoned.

Eumæus thus rejoin'd :

"He serv'd a master of a noble kind,

"Who never, never will behold him more;

"Long, long since perish'd on a distant shore!

"Oh! had you seen him vigorous, bold, and young,

"Swift as the deer, and as the lion strong;

"His eye, how piercing, and his scent how true.

The dog, whom fate had granted to behold
His lord, when twenty tedious years had roll'd,
Takes a long look, and, having seen him, dies*.

This is painted after nature.

The attachment of the dog remains long after the death of the master, and in some cases terminates only with the existence of the quadruped.

A gentleman having lost his way in a fog, near the Helvellyn mountains in Cumberland, fell down a precipice, and was dashed to pieces. His remains were discovered, full three months afterwards, at the bottom, still guarded by his faithful dog. The story is told with much feeling by Sir Walter Scott. "Dark green was the spot 'mid the brown mountain heather, Where the pilgrim of nature lay stretch'd in decay;

Like the corpse of an outcast adandon'd to weather,
'Till the mountain winds wasted the tenantless clay.
Nor yet quite deserted, tho' lonely extended,
For faithful in death his mute fav'rite attended,
The much-lov'd remains of his master defended,

And chas'd the hill-fox and the raven away."

Opposite to the house of a gentleman near the churchyard of St. Olave, in Southwark, and where the little receptacles of humanity are in many parts dilapidated, was an aperture just large enough to admit a dog It led along a kind of sink to a noisome dark cavity, close to which a person had lately been buried. It was inhabited by his dog, who was to be seen occasionally moving into or out of the cavern. He had taken possession of it on the day of the funeral. How he obtained any food during the first two or three months no one knew; but he at length attracted the attention of a gentleman who lived opposite, and who ordered his servant regularly to supply the poor fellow. He used, after awhile, to come occasionally to this house for the food that was provided for him. He was not sullen, but there was a melancholy expression in his countenance, which, once observed, could never be forgotten. As soon as he had finished his hasty meal, he would gaze for a

* Pope's Odyssey, 17, 344.

moment on his benefactor. It was an expressive look, and which could not be misunderstood. It conveyed all the thanks that a broken heart could give. He then entombed himself once more for three or four days, when he crawled out again with his eyes sunk and his coat dishevelled. Two years he was faithful to the memory of him whom he had lost; and then, according to the most authentic account of him, having been missing several days, he was found dead in his retreat.

I make no apologies for these stories. They all tend to the same point. There is much to admire in every animal. He has all the intelligence and all the virtues, if we may so term them, which render him perfect in the precise grade in which he is placed. The object of this Essay would be fully accomplished if the reader could be induced to study him there—to trace his wonderful adaptation to his destiny, and, with regard to more of the inferior animals than we are always disposed to allow, the services which he renders us. Views of this kind, in proportion as we indulged in them, would become more and more pleasing to us; and every day would teach us a lesson of humanity. This cannot be summed up better than in the spirit, and to a considerable extent the language, of Dr. Percivall.

"The sight of animals in a state of nature is favourable to the exercise of benevolence. If we feel a common interest in the gratifications of inferior beings, we shal! no longer be indifferent to their sufferings, or become wantonly instrumental in producing them. We may be truly said to become susceptible of virtuous impressions from the sight and study of such objects. The patient ox is viewed with kind complacency; the guileless sheep with pity; the playful lamb raises emotions of tenderness. We rejoice with the horse in his liberty and exemption from toil while he ranges at large through the enamelled pastures; and the frolics of the colt would afford unmixed delight, did we not recollect the bondage which he is soon to undergo. We are charmed with the song of birds; soothed with the buzz of insects; and pleased with the sportive motions of the fish; because these are expressions of enjoyment, and we begin to exult in the felicity of the whole animated creation.

"But the taste for natural beauty is subservient to still higher purposes than those here enumerated; and the cultivation of it not only refines and harmonizes, but dignifies and exalts the affections. It elevates them to the admiration and love of that Being who is the author of all that is good, fair, and sublime in the creation. Scepticism and irreligion are hardly compatible with the sensibility of heart which arises. from a just and lively relish of the wisdom, harmony, and order subsisting in the world around us; and emotions of piety must spring up spontaneously in the bosom that is in unison with all animated nature. Elevated by this divine inspiration, man finds a temple in every grove; and, glowing with devout fervour, he joins his song to the universal chorus, or muses the praise of the Almighty in more expressive silence. Thus they

"Whom Nature's works can charm, with God himself

Hold converse; grow familiar, day by day,

With his conceptions; act upon his plan :
And form to his, the relish of their souls,"

IT is now time to look around us, and see how the principle that we have been advocating is applicable to our domesticated animals, and to others whose lives are sacrificed to our convenience or caprice. Our object will, perhaps, be best answered by taking a rapid sketch of our general conduct towards our quadruped and other servants; including not only those practices which evidently or flagrantly partake of cruelty, but others in which the happiness of the inferior animals might be better secured, with little or no sacrifice of our real pleasures, or even of our caprices.

THE HORSE.

THE RACE HORSE.

The first six or nine months of the life of a racer are pleasantly spent. He is with his dam well sheltered and well fed, every want anticipated, and the greatest care bestowed, in order that his frame and his powers may be fully developed in the least possible time. Some sportsmen, however, are too eager to ascertain the good or bad qualities of the youngsters, and to calculate-for money, money is their object-whether their yearling stock may be worth the expense of keeping on. The colts are haltered at three months old; their mouth is formed by the dumb jockey; and they are in the training stables, and under the care of the training groom, before November is half expired.

The mysteries of training. and training such youngsters, I pretend not to develope. I am aware that the system is much improved that the training groom possesses more real know