through every part of her wide domain. In the newly-discovered islands of the Pacific, there are no large edible quadrupeds; hence, there are no animals of prey to regulate their numbers. In the vast and fertile continent of America, till Columbus, not three centuries ago, landed his small number of horned cattle, and his eight sows, there were none of these animals, nor even sheep; the number of quadrupeds were few, and those principally of the minor tribes; and hence, the beasts of prey seemed to conform exactly to that state of things, there being only one or two of any note, the jaguar and the cougar, which are far less formidable than the ferocious animals of the Old World. But the fishes in the rivers, and on the coasts of that continent, are numerous; and hence, the seal and the cayman abounded. In like manner, the feathered tribes were in immense multitudes; so, therefore, were the serpents. And thus it is, he beautifully adds, that the circle of nature, however enlarged or contracted, must be perfect and complete in itself to be perpetuated; a circle which, to use the illustration of our greatest poet, has been circumscribed by the golden compasses of the Eternal, and which he has filled with his wonders, and satiated with his mercies.

We have seen how numerous tribes of beings "prey upon each other," and the sense in which that expression may be rationally usednor is there any thing shocking to reason in that ordinance, but, on the contrary, that branch of the economy of nature is as replete with benevolence as any of the rest of the laws of creation. Mr Sadler beautifully shews, that the successive renewal of life throughout the whole of creation swarming with existences, by the intervention of death, is, as it respects all but the first and original race of beings, an ordinance of benevolence, and unless the laws of nature were suspended or reversed, to those likewise; continuing, indeed, the blessing of existence while it can be enjoyed, and when no longer desirable, transferring it to successive myriads of participants, thereby preventing at once a monopoly of the pleasures, as well as a perpetuity of the increasing miseries,

of existence. For only suppose animals not immortal-and what reason have we to think that the removal of those which become the prey of others, is more distressing than that of such as die what is called a natural death, which is a rare case among them, and happily so; as in this instance it would be one of lingering disease, and increasing weakness, terminated often by the most dreadful form of animal suffering-actual famine?

self-preservation, implanted in them by "In the meantime the principle of Nature, may perhaps inspire them with a fear, or rather caution, respecting their enemies; but it may be doubted whether this approaches to constant or painful apprehension; nay, whether it amounts to any thing like the occasional disquietude which human beings feel in respect to their last enemy, whose final triumph they know to be certain, and cannot but anticipate, and which often forms the bitterest ingredient in the cup of human suffering. From this feeling the inferior animals are entirely exempt. Up to the very appearance of danger their fears are not excited, and then its duration is, generally speaking, too short to admit of distinct perceptions of suffering. Instead, therefore, of having life embittered by strong apprehensions, or pursued by relentless diseases, to the last it seems to them a scene of pleasure, as the poet sings of one of the loveliest victims of the master animal of prey:

Pleased to the last he crops his flowery food, And licks the hand just raised to shed his blood. But, if habitual caution among many of the tribes of life is, however, excited by the circumstance of their being the objects of prey, it calls into action those facilities of escape and means of defence with which all are endowed, the successful exercise of which inspires that sense of conscious security, which, no doubt, administers to their happiness, as it does, under different circumstances, to our own.

"Moreover, familiarized as we are to

slaughter, we are, perhaps, ready to trans

fer our ideas of this mode of sustentation far too largely to the animal creation. I am inclined to think that we mistake in

imagining our world to be a kind of immense slaughter-house. Beyond a certain proportion this evidently is not the case; and that proportion, in all probability, will seem smaller, compared with the whole, the more closely we consider the subject. The expression of an author I have all along in my recollection, that of

animals' preying upon each other,' is capable of a very erroneous interpretation, and, as respects the subject under consideration, leads it to a very false conclusion. Scarcely any species of animal preys upon its own kind; from such a mode of subsistence nearly all rigidly abstain.

"Pursuing this idea as we ought, we shall find that it will almost entirely di vest that part of the system of Nature under our consideration, of its apparent terrors. Look where we please, whether to the tribes of earth, air, or ocean, those creatures of prey, which are the objects of dread to those on which they feed, are, compared with the latter, in point of prolificness, sterile; and in point of numbers, few: they are then, to such, rare and soHitary beings, and the amount of their depredations is accordingly limited. I mean not to confine this observation to the ferocious monarchs of the various tribes, with whom this is obviously the case, and has been often noticed; but down through all the descending links of carnivorous animals, it holds as strikingly true. The shark is as rare a monster to the cod, as the cod is to the herring; the depredations of both, then, must be limited indeed, compared with the numbers of the entire class. For example, much as game is destroyed in this country, still, probably for a single hawk, there are a thousand partridges; and for a single partridge, ten million ants. Different classes of beings may, indeed, prey upon the same tribe; but still, all the former united, will always be found little numerous, compa

red with the latter. Thus, though the

spider commit devastations upon the same species as the swallow, the numbers of both these are as nothing, compared with those of the flies. Indeed, the minuter, and, as it appears to us, the most defenceless beings, seem to form a sort of life-assurance company amongst themselves, moving together in multitudes, and consequently, the individual risk from weakness and exposure is reduced to almost nothing. The shoals in which the smaller fry of the waters always move, and the clouds in which insects congregate, may illustrate what I mean; not that these associations may not have other purposes, and each individual distinct means of defence, or rather escape, some of which should be particularized, had we opportunity.

"On the whole, then, it is not beyond the scope of possibilities, nor can I think it very unlikely, that those devastations in nature, over which we profess to mourn so much, are, in comparison with the immense numbers exposed to them, the reverse of numerous, possibly indeed not so

common as those premature deaths, from whatever cause, to which our own species is so subject, but from which theirs are almost wholly exempt.

"If the preceding views be just, it is probable that most animals in a state of nature survive through the period of their health and enjoyment, and that their de eline then is almost as instantaneous, as we have noticed was their growth; when, to spare them the most cruel of deaths that must otherwise await them all, (that of solitary suffering, terminated by fa mine,) a numerous class of animals before alluded to, distributed through every element, are commissioned to put an end to their sufferings; whose prey they become. Nature, therefore, in this, as in all other of her operations, acts upon a principle of kindness, and rescues such from a far more acute degree of suffering, than that from which a kind master frees a faithful quadruped, its period of enjoyment over, by a sudden and easy dismissal. Nay, we observe this instinctive propensity to terminate sufferings, when the animals of prey are absent, and consequently the impulse of appetite can have nothing to do with the act; thus notwithstanding the short-sighted speculations of ignorant man, perhaps the deer which joins in concluding the miseries of a comrade he cannot relieve, acts upon a law, impressed by Nature, grounded on substantial kindness."

But what if it be said that the chain of existence so visibly perfect and complete, where Nature is undisturbed in her operations, is as evidently broken, wherever she is greatly interrupted, and that when those animals of prey to which Mr Sadler has been diverting our attention as the preservers of the balance of food and numbers, are driven away, or destroyed, still the rest of creation continues to exist?

"My answer to this final objection brings me to the last and far most important reason of their creation, and continued existence upon our earth; and this has an essential relation to that state of things which the Deity doubtless contemplated when he created our world, and especially to that being whom he condescended to place at the head of it: without whom the universe would have been incomplete, and, with all its infinite myriads of inhabitants, still destitute of a single creature who could recognise the universal Parent,-the temple of Nature void of a single worshipper of its indwelling and presiding Deity,—and that everlasting anthem of praise, with which it resounds, hushed in eternal silence

that mysterious being, whom the Eternal has placed, as it were, midway between immensity and nothing; who, though a creature to God, is a god to his creatures, and whom the King of the Universe has crowned with glory, and arrayed with his own vesture of immortality! And to whom, in the language of an ancient poet, he has given dominion over the works of his hands, and put all things in subjection under his feet :' or, to express myself in the words of a later writer, and one, perhaps, less objectionable to modern philosophy, Principio ipse mundus Deorum hominumque causâ factus est: quæque in eo sunt omnia, ea parata ad fructum hominum et inventa sunt.' Thus is it that all creation, with its unnumbered forms and exquisite adaptations, has a prime and final reference to man.

"And yet, astonishing as the assertion seems, and almost exceeding belief, if we were not perpetually hearing it repeated; touching this one creature, at once the sole genus and species of his kind, whose increase is the most strictly guarded of all others, and who is indeed the most sterile being in existence,-to sustain whom, not only the vegetable kingdom. offers its inexhaustible resources, but to whom the whole animal creation, in every element, is surrendered for that special purpose, it is pronounced that even his food and his numbers are not duly balanced; but, on the contrary, in such grievous disproportions has Nature established the principles of their increase, that, without unnatural or cruel expedients to rectify her errors, present misery must ensue, and in a thousand years' (which, with his Creator, is but as one day) the discrepancy would involve him in universal distress, and threaten his final annihilation."

pears-or, in other words, just as long as their office is necessary to him, and no longer, till, as the master animal of prey, he assumes the dominion which they were appointed to preserve for him.

"The history of man presents him to us, in the first stages of society in every country of the world, as comparatively few; and, as dispersed over vast tracts, solitary his numbers progressively increase, till at length we find him multiplied into mighty nations. At first he reclaims, from the dominion of the wild beasts, but a small part only of the earth, which he gradually extends as his necessities require; making war upon them as he advances, either dispossessing or destroying them, till, at length, they utterly perish from the country, which he fully occupies. Now, if these were necessary in a state of nature to preserve the whole of animal life, by balancing its numbers and proportions, (which I trust has been fully shewn,) then is the utility of these objects of dislike and dread manifest, especially to man: they have actually preserved for him that profuse provision which Nature ordained for his use, till he appears and enjoys it. This, I think, is a true, and by no means a new, view of this important branch of the subject.

"Any material destruction of these ferocious animals, in anticipation, and before mankind were sufficient in numbers to take their place, were it very practicable, we may conclude (if the foregoing reasonings are just) would be injurious; and would be fruitful of calamity rather than of benefit to the remaining tribes of animal life, unless Nature, ever fruitful in resources, should restore the balance in some other way, not very comprehensible to us at present. Practical exemplifications of this fact, it is obviously almost impossible to give one very interesting instance, however, just rises to my recol

lic has access-that he does in his great work to which this Dissertation is an appendix-but discussing it on those more obvious and popular grounds which, however the argument is constructed, must ever form one of its most important branches. Why then, in reference to the human race, do mere animals of prey exist at all in a state of nature? As regulators of the numbers, and consequently as preservers, of animal creation, till man himself ap

lection.

In the Carolinas, very slenderly peopled even at present, and where the ne

cessities of the inhabitants have not com

plies which the waters afford, which, though so nutritious and healthful a food, is nevertheless always among the last to which mankind, in general, willingly resort; the cayman, (the American crocodile,) once numerous, has been almost entirely destroyed: hence, says Chateaubriand, the

rivers are often infested with the multitudes of fishes which ascend from the ocean, and perish. Here the removal of the check without its substitution, (evidently a breach of the economy of Nature,) is productive of multiplied misery.

"But the steps of the Divine economy, in reference to the larger animals of prey, are, indeed, peculiarly manifest. Their destruction almost always bears a due proportion to the multiplication of mankind hence the most formidable of them have long since ceased to exist in Europe; and the wolf, which still continues to infest some of its more solitary tracts, will disappear as man advances, as it did long ago from this well-peopled island. Lions thus are no longer found in many parts of the world-in Greece, for instance; and, should population press onward in the eastern and southern quarters of our globe, and spread those useful agricultural pursuits with which it is inseparably connected, the lion will no longer exist, and will be remembered only in tradition, or known to us, as the mammoth, by some unperished remains of his majestic form.

"The animals of prey, therefore, exist only as preservers of animated creation, for the use of man, and disappear when himself approaches. They are, without a figure of speech, the locum tenentes of him who is the master animal of prey throughout the world. The co-existence, then, of these and man, would be incompatible with the scheme of Nature, and would, indeed, destroy, instead of preserving, the balance of food and numbers throughout the edible creation. Mark, therefore, how Nature has interposed insuperable obstacles and barriers against their co-existence, which she knows would be mutually destructive. She has kindled, between these and mankind, the fiercest animosity: other animals may fear man ; these join hatred and defiance to fear; they are to each other irreconcilable rivals; when they meet, they either fly or contend to the very death; and no compromise has existed, or ever will exist, by which they shall conjointly prey upon creation. Nor is she satisfied even with this precaution; she has removed all possible temptation from human beings to evade or reverse this important law. The flesh of these animals, as Lord Bacon has observed, whether of beasts or birds, is not edible to man; it is, to use an emphatical word, carrion; man, therefore, has no inducement to favour their increase as forming part of his food; while, on the other hand, all his ingenuity and all his patience cannot tame such to his purposes in other respects; they are, consequently, not only highly dangerous, but utterly worthless, to him. Look at the difference made for this special purpose betwixt an animal of prey and an herbivorous one; compare the elephant and the ox, for instance, with the lion and the tiger; the first amongst the mightiest

masses of vital power in the creation, are readily reduced to the docility of a child, and the patience of a slave, in the service of man: but where is the second Bacchus, that shall attempt to couple the latter, and yoke them to his car? Buffon, if I rightly recollect, has a fine passage on the docility of the useful animals, compared with the voracious one :-a sentiment happily fully as familiar to the mind of the peasant, as it is to that of the philosopher."

With regard to Man, all the operations of nature are conducive to his support. All those numerous

causes which contribute to the sustentation of the animal tribes, are again put into requisition on his behalf; and they are multiplied beyond all calculation, while each is rendered infinitely more efficient, so intent does Nature seem to be on her great work of sustaining man. But hear Mr Sadler, in a passage of great power and beauty:

"Here, however, is the place to observe, that the ample provision Nature has made for all creatures, is bestowed upon one indispensable condition; but it is one that contributes to their pleasure, as well as promotes and secures their health it is exertion. To this Catholic law of Nature man is submitted, and in a severer degree, as we may think when superficially viewing the subject, than all the other tribes of life. But to the stricter operation of this law, he owes the exercise of those powers, mental as well as bodily, by which he rises so greatly superior to them all. It is this which is the means of elevating him through the wide gradations of his own existence, from barbarism to the highest state of civilisation. Moreover, the peculiar nature of that exertion which is required of him, in order to his sustentation, is the cause of that appropriation of the bounties of Nature which is peculiar to his race, and which necessarily lays the foundation of those 'social and civil institutions which conduce so much to his prosperity. This appropriation, however, which was evidently, in the contemplation of the Crea tor, as necessary to his existence, involves those striking inequalities in the distribution of the bounties of Nature, which have ever existed in human society, especially in its more civilized stages; and these, again, the Creator has anticipated, implanting deep in the human breast those sacred impulses which prompt the fortunate to distribute of their superfluity to the destitute; thereby awaking mutual feelings which heighten into pleasures, and

more than compensate for the distresses in which they originate. It is thus that, watered by mingling tears of sympathy and sorrow, the heavenly plant of Divine charity is seen rising in all its fragrance and beauty, and bearing its perennial fruits, which are for the healing of the nations. But this feeling is peculiar to man, and is evidently given him to remedy the tendencies of that appropriation to which animal creation is a stranger. Political economists, however, contemplate a system, which shall, in great measure, dispense with this distinguishing virtue of human nature, and which, if realized, would therefore rob humanity of its noblest attribute, that in which it most resembles the Creator,-and leave it only the selfish instincts of the brutes that perish."

But how stands the proof that Nature is more liberal of her means of support, and more careful to accomplish her purpose in behalf of man, than of all the rest of creation? Why, respecting other orders of animated beings, severally considered, one only of the kingdoms of nature, either the vegetable or the animal, and that only in strictly limited parts, is generally afforded to their sustentation; respecting man, each is offered, and offered almost without limitation, for the same purpose. If, says Mr Sadler, particular tribes are confined to their own elements in their supply of food, each of these elements yields him its tribute of support, and some of them in unlimited quantities. If different climates and seasons are required to produce the means of subsistence to separate divisions of the family of nature, all the climates, and every season, furnishes his board with their various and successive stores. If astonishing instincts are impressed upon various animals, in order to obtain their necessary supplies, touching man, the godlike attribute of reason, as far surpassing instinct as mental perception does bodily sensation, instructs him to bend all nature to his purposes, and to provide, under all emergencies, for his present and continued sustentation.

The views which Mr Sadler so eloquently opens up on this part of his subject, must set the mind of every thoughtful reader astir, and suggest a thousand reflections on the grandeur of the design of man's earthly condition; and perhaps we

may be pardoned for making a remark or two. The primary physical wants of the human being are food, clothing, shelter, and defence. To supply these, he has cleared and cultivated the earth-he has invented his various arts, and built houses and cities. At first, we see him like the wants which their common nathe other animals, labouring under ture produces-under sufferings to which they are alike exposed, actuated by passions which boil in their blood,-Hunger, Thirst, the incle mency of the skies, the fear and anger of self-preservation in the midst of powerful and inflammable enemies. Hunger and Thirst cultivate the earth. Fear builds castles and embattles cities. The animal is clothed by nature against cold and storm, and shelters himself in his den. Man builds his habitation, and weaves his clothing. With horns, or teeth, or claws, the strong and deadly weapons with which nature has furnished them, the animal kinds wage their war; he forges swords and spears, and constructs implements of destruction that will send death almost as far as his eye can mark his foe, and sweep down thousands together. The animal that goes in quest of his food, that pursues or flies from his enemy, has feet, or wings, or fins; but man bids the horse, the camel, the elephant, bear him, and yokes them to his chariot. If the strong animal would cross the river, he swims. Man spans it with a bridge. But the most powerful of them all stands on the beach and gazes on the ocean. Man constructs a ship, and encircles the globe. Other creatures must traverse the element nature has assigned, with means she has furnished. He chooses his element, and makes his means. Can the fish traverse the waters? So can he. Can the bird fly the air? So can he. Can the camel speed over the desert? He shall bear man as his rider.

But to see what he owes to inventive art, we should compare man, not with inferior creatures, but with himself, looking over the face of human society, as history or observation shews it. We shall find him almost sharing the life of brutes, or removed from them by innumerable differ ences, and incalculable degrees. In