The horrid eye of murder, scowling in the dark,

The bony hand of avarice, filching from the poor,

The lurid fires of lust, the idiot face of folly,

The sickening deed of cruelty, the foul fierce orgies of the drunken,
Weak contemptible vanity, stubborn stolid unbelief,

Envy's devilish sneer, and the vile features of ingratitude,

Man, hast thou seen enough? or are these full proof

That thou art a miracle of mercy, and all thy dignity is dross?

Well said the wisdom of earth, O mortal, know thyself;
But better the wisdom of heaven, O man, learn thou thy God:
By knowledge of self thou art conusant of evil, and mailed in panoply
to meet it;

By knowledge of God cometh knowledge of good, and universal love is

at thy heart.

Every creature knoweth its capacities, running in the road of instinct,
And reason must not lag behind, but serve itself of all proprieties:
The swift to the race, and the strong to the burden, and the wise for right

direction;

For self-knowledge filleth with acceptance its niche in the temple of utility:

But vainly wilt thou look for that knowledge, till the clue of all truth is in thy hand,

For the labyrinth of man's heart windeth in complicate deceivings:

Thou canst not sound its depths with the shallow plumb-line of reason, Till religion, the pilot of the soul, have lent thee her unfathomable coil: Therefore, for this grand knowledge, and knowledge is the parent of dominion,

Learn God, thou shalt know thyself; yea, and shalt have mastery of all things.

of Cruelty to Animals.

Shame upon thee, savage Monarch-man, proud monopolist of reason; Shame upon Creation's lord, the fierce ensanguined despot:

What, man! are there not enough, hunger, and diseases and fatigue,-. And yet must thy goad or thy thong add another sorrow to existence? What! art thou not content thy sin hath dragged down suffering and death

On the poor dumb servants of thy comfort, and yet must thou rack them with thy spite?

The prodigal heir of creation hath gambled away his all,—

Shall he add torment to the bondage that is galling his forfeit serfs?
The leader in nature's pæan himself hath marred her psaltery,
Shall he multiply the din of discord by overstraining all the strings?
The rebel hath fortified his strong-hold, shutting in his vassals with him,-
Shall he aggravate the woes of the besieged by oppression from within?
Thou twice deformed image of thy Maker, thou hateful representative of
Love,

For very shame be merciful, be kind unto the creatures thou hast ruined;
Earth and her million tribes are cursed for thy sake,

Earth and her million tribes still writhe beneath thy cruelty:

Liveth there but one among the million that shall not bear witness against thee,

A pensioner of land or air or sea, that hath not whereof it will accuse thee?

From the elephant toiling at a launch, to the shrew-mouse in the harvest

field,

From the whale which the harpooner hath stricken, to the minnow caught upon a pin,

From the albatross wearied in its flight, to the wren in her covered nest, From the death-moth and lace-winged dragon-fly, to the lady-bird and

the gnat,

The verdict of all things is unanimous, finding their master cruel:
The dog, thy humble friend, thy trusting, honest friend;

The ass, thine uncomplaining slave, drudging from morn to even;.

The lamb, and the timorous hare, and the labouring ox at plough;

The speckled trout, basking in the shallow, and the partridge, gleaning in the stubble,

And the stag at bay, and the worm in thy path, and the wild bird pining in captivity,

And all things that minister alike to thy life and thy comfort and thy

pride,

Testify with one sad voice that man is a cruel master.

Verily, they are all thine: freely mayst thou serve thee of them all: They are thine by gift for thy needs, to be used in all gratitude and kind

ness;

Gratitude to their God and thine,-their Father and thy Father,

Kindness to them who toil for thee, and help thee with their all:

For meat, but not by wantonness of slaying: for burden, but with limits of humanity;

For luxury, but not through torture: for draught, but according to the

strength:

For a dog cannot plead his own right, nor render a reason for exemption,
Nor give a soft answer unto wrath, to turn aside the undeserved lash;
The galled ox cannot complain, nor supplicate a moment's respite;
The spent horse hideth his distress, till he panteth out his spirit at the

goal;

Also, in the winter of life, when worn by constant toil,

If ingratitude forget his services, he cannot bring them to remembrance;
Behold, he is faint with hunger; the big tear standeth in his eye;
His skin is sore with stripes, and he tottereth beneath his burden;
His limbs are stiff with age, his sinews have lost their vigour,
And pain is stamped upon his face, while he wrestleth unequally with toil;
Yet once more mutely and meekly endureth he the crushing blow;
That struggle hath cracked his heart-strings,—the generous brute is dead!
Liveth there no advocate for him? no judge to avenge his wrongs?
No voice that shall be heard in his defence? no sentence to be passed on
his oppressor?

Yea, the sad eye of the tortured pleadeth pathetically for him;
Yea, all the justice in heaven is roused in indignation at his woes;
Yea, all the pity upon earth shall call down a curse upon the cruel;
Yea, the burning malice of the wicked is their own exceeding punishment.
The Angel of Mercy stoppeth not to comfort, but passeth by on the other

side,

And hath no tear to shed, when a cruel man is damned.

of Friendship.

As frost to the bud, and blight to the blossom, even such is self-interest to friendship:

For Confidence cannot dwell where Selfishness is porter at the gate.

If thou see thy friend to be selfish, thou canst not be sure of his honesty ; And in seeking thine own weal, thou hast wronged the reliance of thy friend. Flattery hideth her varnished face when friendship sitteth at his board; And the door is shut upon suspicion, but candour is bid glad welcome: For friendship abhorreth doubt, its life is in mutual trust,

And perisheth, when artful praise proveth it is sought for a purpose.
A man may be good to thee at times, and render thee mighty service,
Whom yet thy secret soul could not desire as a friend;

For the sum of life is in trifles, and though, in the weightier masses,
A man refuse thee not his purse, nay his all in thine utmost need,
Yet if thou canst not feel that his character agreeth with thine own,
Thou never wilt call him friend, though thou render him a heartful of
gratitude.

A coarse man grindeth harshly the finer feelings of his brother;
A common mind will soon depart from the dull companionship of wisdom;
A weak soul dareth not to follow in the track of vigour and decision;
And the worldly regardeth with scorn the seeming foolishness of faith.
A mountain is made up of atoms, and friendship of little matters,
And if the atoms hold not together, the mountain is crumbled into dust.

Come, I will show thee a friend; I will paint one worthy of thy trust: Thine heart shall not weary of him: thou shalt not secretly despise him Thou art long in learning him, in unravelling all his worth;

And he dazzleth not thine eyes at first, to be darkened in thy sight afterward,

But riseth from small beginnings, and reacheth the height of thine

esteem.

He remembereth that thou art only man; he expecteth not great things

from thee;

And his forbearance toward thee silently teacheth thee to be considerate unto him.

He despiseth not courtesy of manner, nor neglecteth the decencies of life: Nor mocketh the failings of others, nor is harsh in his censures before

thee:

For so, how couldst thou tell, if he talketh not of thee in ridicule ?
He withholdeth no secret from thee, and rejecteth not thine in turn;
He shareth his joys with thee, and is glad to bear part in thy sorrows.
Yet one thing, he loveth thee too well to show thee the corruptions of his
heart:

For as an ill example strengtheneth the hands of the wicked,

So to put forward thy guilt, is a secret poison to thy friend:

For the evil in his nature is comforted, and he warreth more weakly against it,

If he find that the friend whom he honoureth, is a man more sinful than

himself.

I hear the communing of friends; ye speak out the fulness of your souls,
And being but men, as men, ye own to all the sympathies of manhood: "
Confidence openeth the lips, indulgence beameth from the eye,
The tongue loveth not boasting, the heart is made glad with kindness:
And one standeth not as on a hill, beckoning to the other to follow,
But ye toil up hand in hand, and carry each other's burdens.

Ye commune of hopes and aspirations, the fervent breathings of the heart,

Ye speak with pleasant interchange the treasured secrets of affection, Ye listen to the voice of complaint, and whisper the language of comfort, And as in a double solitude, ye think in each other's hearing.

Choose thy friend discreetly, and see thou consider his station,

For the graduated scale of ranks accordeth with the ordinance of heaven: If a low companion ripen to a friend, in the full sunshine of thy confidence,

Know, that for old age thou hast heaped up sorrow

For thou sinkest to that level, and thy kin shall scorn thee,

Yea, and the menial thou hast pampered haply shall neglect thee in thy

death:

And if thou reachest up to high estates, thinking to herd with princes, What art thou but a footstool, though so near a throne?