materials of which they compose their nests, but sometimes to choose places for nidification altogether foreign to their general habits.* Fothergill affirms that " they possess all the faculties of man, though in a limited degree, imagination alone perhaps excepted." "It seems to me as evident," says Locke," that they do in some instances reason as that they have sense."+ The late Dr. Brown of Edinburgh "believed that many of the lower animals have the sense of right and wrong; and that the metaphysical argument which proves the immortality of man, extends with equal force to the other orders of earthly creatures." Many of them, it must be admitted, are endowed with properties so closely approximating to those of the creature which we call rational, that it is by no means easy to shew an essential difference. It cannot be denied that they possess moral affections, for they have gratitude; nor intellectual faculties, for they have memory; and that each of their powers conducts to the proper end with unerring certainty. Autobulus, one of the speakers in a dialogue of Plutarch, observes, that "reason is in the creature by nature, but right and perfect reason is attained by industry and education; so that, naturally, all creatures may be said to be rational. But if they look for perfection of reason and true wisdom, they will hardly find these perfections in any man whatever.”

Should we admit with Cicero, that whatever feels, wills, and acts with discernment and vigour, is celestial and divine, and therefore eternal, the question as to their im

Thus the herons in the island of Rathlin, where there are no trees, build their nests among the reeds of a lake.

Hildrop affirms, that instances, if necessary, might be produced in which brutes "reason well, and discover more sense and better logic than many a stupid puppy with two legs, who lives at random, who pursues every appearance of pleasure, gratifies every appetite, submits to every demand of lust or fancy, without thought or reflection, and rushes with his eyes open into certain diseases, beggary, and damnation."

+ The biographer of this distinguished philosopher and poet says that "the tenderness and the quickness of his sympathy were such, that he could not bear to see any living thing in pain. The cold-hearted would have smiled, perhaps, had they seen the patient and anxious care with which he tried to relieve the sufferings of animals that to them would have appeared unworthy of a thought. He considered the duties which we owe to the brute creation a very important branch of ethics, and had he lived he would have published an essay upon the subject."-Philosophy of the Human Mind. Edin. 1828, p. 22.

mortality would be settled. "Quicquid est illud quod sentit, quod sapit, quod viget, cæleste et divinum est, ideoque æternum.'

Come to what conclusion we may on these subjects, if, as religion teaches, every man must hereafter give an account of the deeds done in the body, cruelty to animals is a crime that will not escape due chastisement; and whether reason be granted or refused to brutes, it will scarcely be denied that they can feel: for feeling does not depend on intellect, nor is the intensity of a man's sensations to be estimated by the strength of his reasoning powers. Shall we suppose that a philosopher feels more acutely than a clown? He may, indeed, from education be more sensible of indignity, but the sum of physical suffering, under similar circumstances, will in both be the the same. Stoicism taught Epictetus to express no sense of uneasiness, while his leg was undergoing the operation of a deliberate fracture. A similar operation could not be performed on any animal capable of sound or gesture, without shrieks and contortions; whence the inference is obvious, that it is "mind which masters matter;" that reason alone, by a mighty effort, can subdue the sense of physical pain. When a patriot or a martyr is brought to the scaffold or the stake, he is enabled to endure the rack or the flame, by the high and holy thoughts which occupy his mind. The consciousness of his own rectitude, the mens conscia recti, arms him with invincible patience. He knows that he has the sympathy of the wise and good; that he is contemplated by his friends with pity-by his enemies with admiration; that his death may serve the cause for which he dies more effectually than his life; and that even on earth he cannot all die, for his name will be embalmed in the poet's song or the historian's page. He looks up with confidence to the righteous Judge and merciful Parent of all, and cheered by the certain hope of passing into a state of felicity ineffable and immortal, he smiles in the midst of torture, and gives a joyous welcome to death. But what cheers a poor animal under the butcher's hatchet, or the epicure's crimping knife? What redress can it hope for its wrongs? What resource does it enjoy in futurity?

T

CHAPTER XII.

CRUELTY TO ANIMALS ADMITS OF NO DEFENCE.

"The merciful man doeth good to his own soul: but he that is cruel troubleth his own flesh."-Prov. xi. 17.

"Now they have no cloak for their sin."-John xv. 22. without excuse."-Rom. i. 20.

"They are

PHOTIUS, the learned Patriarch of Constantinople, records an anecdote highly honourable to the humane character of the Athenians. "The senate of the Areopagites being assembled together on a mountain, without any roof but heaven, the senators perceived a bird of prey which pursued a little sparrow that came to save itself in the bosom of one of their company. This man, who naturally was harsh, threw it from him so roughly that he killed it; whereat the court was offended, and a decree was made, by which he was condemned, and banished from the senate: whereupon the Patriarch judiciously observes, that this company which was at that time one of the gravest in the world, did it not for the care they had to make a law concerning sparrows, but to show that clemency and merciful inclination were virtues so necessary in a state, that a man destitute of them was not worthy to hold any place in government, he having, as it were, renounced humanity." WANLEY'S Wonders, fol. 174.

There are so many acts of cruelty on record, that it is pleasing to meet with an anecdote like this, to prove that clemency is an instinctive sentiment of the heart; while its opposite vice, cruelty, is universally detested, especially when it affects the lives and liberties of men. The tyrant

is an object of reprobation to the historian and the poet, to the old and the young. All who are in authority which they abuse-the master of a family, of a school, a city, a nation-all are censured and hated; they live unhonoured, and when they die, the people rejoice.

The same feelings of dislike extend to those who are

cruel to animals; and no one is known to treat them with inhumanity who does not suffer in the estimation of all the good and wise. We justly and naturally conclude, that he who maltreats his beasts or his birds, would also maltreat his fellow-creatures, if he dared. But happily, cruelty is a dastardly vice, and when confronted with courage, dreads to feel the pains it is so ready to inflict, and shrinks back into its own cowardice and deformity.

A tyrannical prince may often have some plausible pretext for his tyranny. He may plead the exigencies of his situation compelling him to lay heavy burdens on his people to seize by violence what he cannot gain by entreaty, and the necessity of providing for his own safety by the exile, imprisonment, or death of those from whom he apprehends danger. He may plead not only his fears, but his wrongs. He has been provoked, insulted, threatened; his throne, his life, placed in jeopardy. He may argue for the good policy of striking terror into the bosoms of the disaffected, by examples of appalling severity. But what plausible pretext can the tyrant of animals offer, to palliate or justify his inhumanity? He cannot affirm that he is wronged by his sheep, his ox, or his ass; and still less, if possible, by other creatures with which he has no manner of connexion. He cannot plead that he dreads their conspiracy and rebellion; that they malign his character, and want only an opportunity to depose him and establish another in his place. He dares not make any such allegations as these. Wherefore, then, does he maltreat them, and play the tyrant? To make them more obedient, to stimulate them to greater exertion. But here he acts like a fool. Harshness never renders animals more obedient; on the contrary, it renders them more refractory and stubborn. Again; it is, for his own sake, unwise by cruel stimulants to compel an animal to a greater exertion of strength or fleetness than its nature can properly endure. It breaks down under labours disproportioned to its powers; or if wronged in its food, or otherwise ill treated in the pasture or the stall, it dies prematurely the victim of folly and cruelty; and he is justly punished by the loss of a servant, whom lenity and proper usage might have rendered valuable for years.

But this is an argument addressed only to the cold, selfish, calculating principle of profit and loss. There are higher considerations to lead men to the practice of humanity. Animals, it must be reiterated again and again, have their rights-rights chartered to them by their Creator, and not to be violated with impunity.

The very circumstance of animals being unable to ap peal to any earthly tribunal to witness and avenge their wrongs, must influence every right-thinking mind in their behalf. The destitute, the friendless, the orphan are the most proper objects of compassion among our own species. The duty of yielding assistance increases with the urgency of the necessity. The more dependent an animal is on our care, the stronger is our obligation to yield it protection. But the very circumstance which elicits the generosity of noble minds, is that which induces the base and degenerate to be cruel. They are fond of shewing their superiority where there is no resistance; and are lavish of kicks and blows where they dread no retaliation. Wo to the animal that shews any inclination to reciprocate these rewards of its services! It is sure to receive tenfold chastisement from the rod or the lash of its exasperated dastardly owner. A man of generous mind, instead of resenting the use which an animal makes of the weapons which God has given it, in defending itself from aggression and injury, will hold it in respect; and appreciate even in a worm or a fly the virtues which he would honour in a man. Thus felt a gallant soldier, who having caught a mouse in his hand, was severely bitten by it. He could have crushed it instantly to death; but he acted more nobly in restoring it to freedom, as the reward of its courage.

Much more might be said on this topic, but time, the most constant and invincible of all antagonists, warns me to conclude.

In a word, then, Cruelty admits of no defence. It is opposed to the laws of God, and the interests of man; it is the worst passion of the breast; the perpetrator of the most detestable crimes; the darling attribute of the great adversary of Him whose name is Love. As benevolence