Where this reciprocity is violently disturbed, and poetry appeals to the heart, the cruel acts which it describes and condemns are regarded with aversion, which frequently rouses the strongest feelings of virtuous indignation. Take the following as a specimen :

"Will none befriend that poor dumb brute ?

Will no man rescue him?

With weaker effort, gasping, mute,

He strains in every limb.

Spare him, O spare, he feels, he feels,
Big tears roll from his eyes.
Another crushing blow, he reels,
Staggers, and falls, and dies.

Poor jaded horse, the blood runs cold,
Thy guiltless wrongs to see:

To heaven, O starved one, lame and old,
Thy dim eye pleads for thee.

Thou too, O dog, whose faithful zeal,
Fawns on some ruffian grim,

He stripes thy skin with many a weal,
And yet thou lovest him.

Shame that of all the living chain,

That links creation's plan,
There is but one delights in pain,

The savage monarch, man.

O Cruelty, who could rehearse

Thy million dismal deeds,

Or track the workings of the curse,

By which all nature bleeds?

'Thou meanest crime,' thou coward sin,

Thou base, flint-hearted vice,

Scorpion to sting thy heart within

Thyself shalt all suffice.

The merciless is doubly curst,

As mercy is twice blest ;'

Vengeance, though slow, shall come-but first

The vengeance of the breast."-Monckton Milnes.

We now proceed to remark that scenes where this reciprocity is displayed in living nature always excite feelings of benevolent and gratified sympathy. La Martine has compelled us by * his genius and lively description to be his companions in travel, and often does he excite in us these sympathetic emotions. We are not insensible to the national remaining barbarity of the Turks, nor are we the apologists of the marauders of the desert for the cruelties they may perpetrate in pursuing what they have been taught to regard as their legitimate vocation; but with respect to their treatment of animals, we do think that the conduct of the Mahometans and the Arabians is well worthy of imitation.

Of the humanity of the former, La Martine affords us some notion in the following account :

* "Souvenirs, Impressions, Pensées et Paysages pendant un Voyage en Orient, (1832-1833,) ou Notes d'un Voyageur, par M. Alphonse de la Martine."

"We no longer saw the storks, whose large nests, like cradles of reeds, crowned the tops of all the mosque domes in European Turkey, and formed a roof-work to the ruined minarets. Every evening on arriving in the villages or the desert kans, we saw these birds, two by two, hovering over our tents or our huts, the young ones stretching their long necks out of the nest like serpents, and holding their beaks to the mother bird, who, half suspended on her broad wings, shared with them the food she had brought from the neighbouring marshes; the male bird hovering at a considerable height above the nest, looked down apparently gratified by the interesting sight. These beautiful birds are by no means wild: they are the guardians of the roof, as the dogs are the guardians of the door. They live in harmony with the clouds of white turtle-doves which cover the domes of all the kans and mosques, and they do not even scare the swallows.

"The Turks themselves live in peace with all the animate and inanimate creation-trees, birds, or dogs; they respect every thing that God has made. They extend their humanity to those inferior animals which are neglected or persecuted among

us. In all the streets there are, at certain distances, vessels filled with water for the dogs, and sometimes on their death-beds, the Mussulmans leave legacies for feeding the doves which they have tended during life."

Of the happy effect of this reciprocity between men and animals, an Arab family exhibits very interesting specimens. "We cannot have an idea ourselves, of the degree of intelligence and affection with which the habit of living with the family, caressed by the children, fed by the women, reprimanded or encouraged by the master, is capable of elevating the instincts of the Arabian horse. But he is naturally superior to the same species in Europe, and this is the case with all the animals of Arabia. I have myself seen frequently in Syria, birds taken in the morning by the children become perfectly tame by night, requiring no longer a cage, or string appended to their legs to keep them with the family,-flying about at liberty, in the orange trees and mulberry trees of the garden,-returning when called, to perch on the fingers of the children, or on the heads of the young girls."

This beautiful reciprocity appears in the

following scene of barter, as described by La

Martine :

:

"The Arab, who was mounted on the fine horse that I wished to possess, admired the Turkomanian I had mounted the day before. In a conversation dexterously turned on the subject, he bestowed great praise on mine. I proposed the exchange. We bargained all the evening, but in vain. The moment I named a price, he appeared agitated with grief at the idea of parting with the companion of his exploits and dangers. The next morning I made him another offer. He was at length persuaded to mount my Turkomanian, and to gallop him across the plain. His brilliant qualities increased the admiration of his rider, and he sent me his Arabian by his son, through whom I remitted to him nine hundred piastres. When I mounted the horse at starting, all the tribe seemed to regret his departure, as an endeared friend they were to see no more. The children talked to him, the women fondly pointed at him, the Sheik turned back repeatedly with a lingering look of regret, and made him certain cabalistic signs, a precaution always adopted by the Arabs to the horses they buy or sell. The

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