thing to be got by it. On the other hand, however, we are so organized as to sympathise with the sufferings of all beings capable of expressing their feelings; and the spectacle of the misery of the larger and more perfect animals is extremely annoying, whenever their tortures are not at once convertible into amusement or gain. This gives us a direct interest in impressing forbearance upon our fellow men in all cases in which their wants, and not our own, are concerned; and thus it happens that a man may be overwhelmed with misery at the sufferings of the calves and oxen in Smithfield, who would be delighted to roast half his own species there, if they presumed to differ from him in opinion. Thus much being premised, it may be concluded that no one tortures the inferior animals without an object; and that some good, real or imaginary, is sought for, in all such exercises of ingenuity, from Domitian's butchery of a fly, to the blinding of singing-birds, the enlargement of a goose's liver, and the wholesale consumption of children in a cotton-factory. Now all the difference between cruelty and no cruelty, between use and abuse, lies in the dignity and utility of the ends for which such torture may be the means; and with reference to Mr. Martin's acts for preventing cruelty towards animals, in the lower classes of the community, it must be observed that the pains and penalties they inflict must be fully justified, provided the end sought be of sufficient importance to warrant their infliction. That this end is not, as is pretended, the sparing the animals so protected, is evident, because, in that case, the acts would have been so contrived as to have embraced the similar offences of the great. We should have had an act for preventing the empalement of worms; an act for suppressing horse-races, an act for regulating the number of head of game to be slaughtered in any single day's sport, &c. &c. The real end sought by Mr. Martin must therefore be to spare the feelings of those who have no direct interest in the forbidden practices, no love for bullbaitings, no hurry to be conveyed to their destination by over-driven hackney-coach horses, no acquaintance with the difficulty of driving a pig or a flock of sheep. It is no new observation, that men are most powerfully affected with anger, at those backslidings of their neighbours, in which they themselves find neither pleasure nor profit, and that it is part of our common nature to Compound for sins we are inclined to, By damning those we have no mind to. It cannot then be denied, that this is a legitimate object of legislation, fully justifying the legal inflictions in question. If the legislative part of the community, therefore, fancy that by fining, imprisoning, and treadmilling those who have nothing to do with the laws but to obey them, they shorten their own road to heaven; Heaven forbid we should tax them with wanton cruelty in so doing! Judging indeed by analogy, there is no more cruelty in sending a hackney coachman, or drover, to prison, for driving too fast, than in filling half the gaols of England with poachers and trespassers for the better preservation of hares and partridges. There certainly is much less of hardship in committing a rogue and a vagabond for attending a bull-bait, than in pinning a pauper to his parish, and forcibly preventing him from earning his bread where labour is most in demand: and there are very few of us who would not infinitely prefer a month's close custody in the service of oxen and sheep, to being hanged at the Old Bailey for the security of the Bank of England's bungling notes. If the protection of the suffering animals were indeed the great object of this novel mode of law-making, I do not dispute that the good would not be great. There is something infinitely touching in the mute sufferings of a helpless brute, and the truth of Hogarth's induction from wanton cruelty towards beasts to homicide is undeniable. I by no means presume that the cold-blooded indifference of country gentlemen, in that round of torturing so strangely called field sports, is any the slightest justification of the barbarity of the lower classes; and if a man of a thousand a year, who knows no better, can find pleasure in breaking a noble horse's heart by over-riding, or in flogging a pointer into obedience, in running down a stag, or breaking a partridge's wing or a hare's leg, that does not excuse the brute in ragged breeches and a dirty shirt, who delights in bear-baitings, finds amusement in beating sheep about the head, or derives pleasure from drawing a badger. If the owner of a horse chooses to put the animal to ineffable tortures, merely to give its tail a handsome set, that does not diminish the atrocity of his servant in "making a raw" and flogging upon it, in order that the sluggish beast may go with less trouble and fatigue to the driver. The protection of the poor sufferers would in both cases be worthy of an enlightened nation: still we admit that end would be much better attained by giving both classes of offenders a somewhat better education. Humanity and gentleness of disposition are acquired habits in all ranks. They are not to be created by legislation, but by the inculcation of sound principles of morality. There would, however, be this inconvenience resulting from such a remedy; that if the upper classes were properly educated, their humanity would extend to their own species; while the lower classes being so educated, as a certain Irish church dignitary observes, they would become at once irreligious and insubordinate, to the manifest disturbance of episcopal order! All attempts, therefore, at bettering the condition of the offenders, at awakening their sympathies by multiplying their comforts, or of softening their hearts by enlightening their understandings, being too dangerous to be encouraged; nothing remains for keeping them within the bounds of humanity but holding a tight rein on them. It is then a manifest injustice to censure the law-makers either for cruelty when they strike, or for partiality when they spare. If they strove indeed to include all cruelties in their enactments, they would never carry a single question, and from our not being content with part, all would be lost whereas, by working hard at extinguishing some portion of the mass of either genteel or vulgar cruelty, something is effected for the satisfaction of the sentimental and the serious, of the virtuous and enlightened. M. KING ARTHUR'S SWORD.* THEY rode along-they rode away, There rose a spectre arm upright Half in white samite clothed and bright A massy sword was in that hand, Than fancy's skill could make. "Within that lake there is a cave, And there she dwells, that lady brave, The north-star lights her pearly bed With never quenching ray But see, she comes, so soft her tread The lady came unto the king That Lady of the Lake, And said, "King Arthur, for one thing "Tis that whene'er I ask of thee The boon that shall repay, But grant what I shall pray!" Then by his faith King Arthur swore He row'd the boat away from land, And grasp'd it in his royal hand, The phantom arm sank in the stream, The water bubbled o'er; As it went down, a parting gleam It flash'd-'twas seen no more. Back row'd the king, his horse to take, And buckler, lance, and spur, Thus from the Lady of the Lake He won Excalibur.t * See the most ancient and famous History of Prince Arthur, King of Britain and of the Round Table. The name of King Arthur's sword, ORIGINAL LETTERS OF BURKE. THE early history of Mr. Burke is but little known. We are, however, acquainted with the circumstance of his coming into possession of a small paternal estate on the death of his elder brother, Garret Burke, in 1765, and that the name of his mother's family was Nagle, settled near Castletown Roche, in the South of Ireland. The first six letters of this collection are addressed to his maternal uncle, Garret Nagle, Esq. the grandfather, we presume, of the present Admiral Sir Edmund Nagle, who is alluded to frequently in them. The Garret mentioned in the postscript of the fourth letter was his deceased elder brother, Garret Burke, who, it appears, died upon the estate before mentioned. The 7th letter, written to his cousin Garret, details the death of the relative to whom the preceding six are addressed, and whom he honours with high encomiums. To this cousin Garret the remainder are superscribed, and we regret that we cannot add to the illustration of their contents any thing which the reader himself may not glean from the shelves of his library. The character of Mr. Burke in private life was kind and exemplary; and while the present epistles will be deemed by the superficial reader to afford little display of the powers and talents, for which their writer was so distinguished, he who is accustomed to value evidence and truth of character in private life, on authority which cannot be disputed, will know how to read them to his pleasure and improvement-to his pleasure in discovering that great talents are often joined with great virtues, and to his improvement in the example held out for his imitation. For agricultural pursuits, Mr. Burke appears, through life, to have cherished a strong regard; and what is more, to have understood thoroughly how to till his own farm to the best advantage, a qualification, which few men so distinguished in lofty pursuits have possessed, when they have shewn a taste for it. VIII. MY DEAR GARRET,-I was very much hurried, more so than I have ever been in my life, when I received your letter; and I continued in the same course of full employment for some time, or I should have given you a more immediate answer. I am sorry, that with regard to the business it contained, the speediness of my answer would have been the only thing very pleasing in it, as unluckily I have no acquaintance with Mr. Madden; I do not remember so much as to have seen him. Ned Nagle is gone off in very good health; with good hopes, and fair prospects before him. I loved his father very much; and the boy himself has gained upon me exceedingly. He has a spirited and pleasing simplicity in his manner, which has got him the affection of as many as have seen him, and in particular recommended him to the owner of the ship in which he has sailed, who is a man of great fortune and good-natured, and will in future be very useful to him. My brother has taken care that he should in all respects be provided for as well as if he had been his own son. It gave me a good impression of the poor fellow, that he seemed anxious about his nurse, whom he represented as not in the best circumstances. I told him I would order a gown for her as a present from him; you will be so good to give her a guinea for that purpose, and put it to my account. He wrote from some port into which the vessel put; and I send you his letter that you may see in what spirits he is. About two months ago, your brother James called upon me. Until then I knew nothing of his having been in London. He was extremely poor, in a very bad state of health, and with a wife to all appearance as wretched and as sickly as he, and big with child into the bargain. k was evident enough that, with his epileptic distemper, he was very unfit to get his bread by hard labour. To maintain them here would be very heavy to me; more indeed than I could bear, with the very many other calls I have upon me, of the same, as well as of other kinds. So I thought the better way would be to send them back to their own county, where, by allowing them a small matter, we might enable them to live. My brother was of the same opinion; so we provided them for the journey homewards; and nothing but the hurry I mentioned, prevented my desiring you to give him, on my account, wherewithal to buy some little furniture, and a couple of cows. I then thought to have allowed him ten pounds a year. His wife told me, that with a little assistance she could earn something; and thus it might be possible for them to subsist. This day I got a letter from him, in which the poor man tells me that he is more distressed than ever; and that you showed great resentment to him, so far as even to refuse to give him any thing that I should appoint for him. I can readily excuse the first effect of warmth in an affair that must touch you so nearly. But you must naturally recollect, that his indigent circumstances, his unfortunate marriage, and the weakness of his mind, which was in a great measure the cause of both, make him a just object of pity, and not of anger; and that his relation to us neither confers upon you nor me any right whatsoever to add to his affliction and punishment-but rather calls upon us to do him all the little good offices in our power to alleviate his misfortunes. A little reflection will make you sensible of this; I therefore wish you would not only give him now six or seven guineas on my account, but that you would, by yourself, or some friend, take care that it should be laid out in the manner most beneficial for him, and not entrusted to his own management. If you are not near him, I dare say Dav. Crotty or Jack Nagle, would look to his settlement. I can have no improper view in this; no more than in the other affair, which I earnestly recommended to you, and offered my assistance to conclude. But you, very justly, I suppose, paid no regard to my opinions or wishes; I hope you will have no reason to be dissatisfied with what you have resolved on that occasion. Mr. Doran of Liverpool has informed me, that he could not send the bull to Cork, but that he has shipped him for Dublin, where by this time he has arrived. Mrs. Burke of the Mall is to take care of him. The great point now is to have a safe person to convey him to the county of Cork. You remember the usual allowance I have made for these two or three years to some poor persons in your county. You will be so obliging to continue it to them according to my plan of last year, which you can refer to, or remember. You will not scruple to advance this for me; and I do not doubt but your good nature will prevail on you to take the trouble. As to my farming-I go on pretty well. All my wheat is in the |