mar, which is, of late, becoming a matter of such trivial moment amongst us, that it is hardly worth the noticing. Grotius thought that the penalty on crime was a sort of tax on sin, which some seem to think might be defined without regard to syntax.

There are many antiquated absurdities and heresies, which have to be reformed, before our legal institutions can be regarded as adapted to the wants of the age. One of the absurd customs still in vogue in courts of justice, is that of inquiring whether the party arraigned, is guilty or not of the offence alleged against him. This was recently rendered ludicrous by the reply to the question: "Guilty or not guilty?" by a native of the Emerald Isle-"Just as your honor plazes. It's not for the likes o' me to dictate to your

honor's worship."

The following is an amusing anecdote of the well-known Cooke, the actor and musician. At a trial in the Court of King's Bench, in 1833, betwixt certain music-publishers as to an alleged piracy of an arrangement of the song of The Old English Gentleman, Cooke was subpoenaed as a witness by one of the parties. On his cross-examination by Sir James Scarlett, afterwards Lord Abinger, for the opposite side, that learned counsel questioned him thus :-"Now, sir, you say that the two melodies are the same, but different; now what do you mean by that, sir?" To this Tom promptly answered,—“ I said that the notes in the two copies were alike, but with a different accent, the one being in common time, the other in six-eight time; and consequently, the position of the accented notes was different."-"Now, pray sir, don't beat about the bush, but explain to the jury, who are supposed to know nothing about music, the meaning of what you call accent." Cooke.-"Accent in music is a certain stress laid upon a par ticular note, in the same manner as you would lay a stress upon any given word for the purpose of being better understood. Thus, if I were to say, "you are an ass,' it rests on ass; but

if I were to say, 'You are an ass,' it rests on you, Sir James." Shouts of laughter by the whole court followed this repartee. Silence at length having been obtained, the judge, with much seeming gravity, accosted the counsel thus: "Are you satisfied, Sir James ?" Sir James (who had become scarlet in more than name), in a great huff, said "The witness may go down."

We close our desultory chapter, by citing a paragraph from the author of "Companions of my Solitude," because it recapitulates, in brief, the "law points " most vulnerable.

"What a loss is there-of time, of heart, of love, of leisure. The myriad oppressions and vexations of law. There are many things done now in the law, at great expense, by private individuals, which ought to be done for all by officers of the State. It is as if each individual had to make a road for himself whenever he went out, instead of using the King's highway.' I do not know a meaner and sadder portion of a man's existence, or one more likely to be full of impatient sorrow, than that which he spends at the offices of lawyers. Many of the adjuncts and circumstances of law are made to retain, for the sake of mystery, its uncouth form and size of deeds, its antiquated words, and unusual character of hand-writing. Physicians' prescriptions may have a better effect for being expressed mysteriously, but legal matters cannot surely be made too clear, even in the merest minutiæ."

After all we have to urge against the law, we beg to acknowledge allegiance to its high authority; and, as to its administrators, let the words of an old epigram speak for us :

When we've nothing to dread from the law's sternest frowns,
We all laugh at the barrister's wigs, bags, and gowns ;

But as soon as we want them to sue or defend,

Then their laughter begins, and our mirth's at an end.

THE reasoning faculty in man is supposed to be the proud prerogative which confers his preeminent distinction in the scale of being; to institute a comparison, therefore, between it and the instincts of the inferior creation may well excite surprise, and possibly be deemed incongruous, if not absurd. The inculcation of moral precept in the form of fable, dates as far back as the days of Esop; and this favorite expedient-so attractive and suggestive-has ever since been regarded as equally poetic, elegant, and impressive. Need we higher authority for its adoption, it may be found among the earliest records of the sacred canon: "Ask now the beasts, and they

A term originating with Lord Erskine, as a substitute for the phrase "brute creation."

shall teach thee; and the fowls of the air, and they shall tell thee;" while, in other passages, we are instructed to gather lessons from the lilies of the field, and to take example from the industry of the seemingly insignificant insects. But "creation's lord "-the " paragon of animals," blinded by the consciousness of his boasted superiority of intellect, renders himself inaccessible to the gentle teachings, the silent, though eloquent persuasions of Nature's voice. We propose to refer to some facts illustrative of the beauty and worth of the moral virtues, deduced from this source.

Instinct seems to be the incipient state of reason, although the instinctive sensations of which animals are the subjects can not be properly classed in the same category with the ideas or the rationative process of the human mind. Here is the dividing line between instinct and reason, and yet it is difficult for the metaphysician to define the boundaries of each, sincé, as in the several kingdoms of nature-animal, vegetable, mineral-they seem to commingle where they unite.

A German author* thus writes on this subject:

"In taking a review of most, if not all, of the actions of the animal world, it must be obvious that, whether we allow them reason or not, the actions themselves comprehend those elements of reason, so to speak, which we commonly refer to rational beings. So that if the same actions had been done by our fellow-creatures, we should have ascribed them without hesitation to motives and feelings worthy of a rational nature. It is certain that most animals, in their several rational acts, show every outward sign of consciousness or knowledge of the end of their actions, not like the fixed and uninformed operations of instinct, which is wholly employed in their self-preservation, or in providing for their young.

"If we compare our own mental constitution with that of brutes, however we may excel them, as we certainly do, in some noble capacities and principles, exclusively belonging to our

* Schleiden.

moral nature, yet we possess many faculties and powers precisely analogous to theirs; and the motives and combined operations of these, it is often as difficult to understand as it is those of the lower animals."

The reason of animals, it has been urged, is limited to memory enlightened by experience; the intelligence of man, on the contrary, is unrestricted and free. This constitutes his superiority.

The peculiarites and habits of animals constitute a theme rife with interest. In Buck's "Beauties of Nature," we find many curious and important facts recorded, some of which exhibit a striking analogy between the characteristics of man and those of animals. "Thus in the jay we may trace the petulant airs of a coquette; in the magpie, the restlessness, flippancy, and egotistical obtrusiveness of the gallant; while the green macaw is the perfect emblem of a suspicious and jealous spouse; for if its master's caresses are transferred to a dog, a cat, a bird, or even a child, nothing can exceed its anxiety and fury, nor will it be appeased till he forsakes the new favorite and returns to it. Envious men and calumniating women we may compare to the porcupine and the secretary-bird; and the selfish will find their type in the rhinoceros, since it is said to be incapable either of gratitude or attachment; while the inebriate may also be classed with the rougette bat, whose propensity to become intoxicated with the juice of the palm-tree is no less proverbial. Again, obstinate or perverse persons may read their lineaments of character in that of the Lapland mouse, or the Arctic puffin; for if the latter should seize the end of a bough, thrust into its hole, rather than let it go, it will suffer itself to be drawn out by it and killed; and the former will not move out of its course for any thing or any body." Some indolent bipeds there are, also, who resemble a certain bird, the laurus articus, which is said never to fish for itself, but to live upon the good fortune of other birds, which it pursues for the sake of their spoil. Others again may be said