ness, and said, "Let there be light; and there was light."

At such times my attention has often been strongly drawn to the nature of animal life, and its use, under the various forms in which it is exhibited, in the creation. An inquiring mind wishes to account, as far as is practicable, for every thing it beholds, and the objects of its existence; being conscious that the perfect wisdom of GoD would create nothing in vain. I have fancied that my intellectual view was clearer at such times than at others; and that, on such occasions, I was enabled to perceive the relative importance of one link in the great chain of animals, to another, in a more striking light; and, also, to appreciate the duty of man towards them with more exactness. And, as I am about to treat on the lives of certain animals whose history I have conceived myself enabled to render more perfect, in a work of considerable magnitude, I consider it my duty to state a few of the reasons which should operate on the minds of practical Zoologists, as a check

upon the wanton, or unnecessary, destruc tion of any living creature, however insignificant it may appear on a slight and inconsiderate view.

It may perhaps be said, that a discourse on the iniquity and evil consequences of murder would come with a bad grace from one who was himself a murderer: and so it would but not if it came from the lips or the pen of a repentant murderer. Who can describe that which he has not seen, or give utterance to that which he has not felt? Never shall I forget the remembrance of a little incident which occurred to me during my boyish days an incident which many will deem trifling and unimportant, but which has been particularly interesting to my heart, as giving origin to sentiments, and rules of action, which have since been very dear to me.

Besides a singular elegance of form and beauty of plumage, the eye of the common lapwing is peculiarly soft and expressive: it is large, black, and full of lustre, rolling, as it seems to do, in liquid gems of dew.

I

I had shot a bird of this beautiful species; but, on taking it up, I found that it was not dead. I had wounded its breast; and some big drops of blood stained the pure whiteness of its feathers. As I held the hapless bird in my hand, hundreds of its companions hovered round my head, uttering continued shrieks of distress, and, by their plaintive cries, appeared to bemoan the fate of one to whom they were connected by ties of the most tender and interesting nature; whilst the poor wounded bird continually moaned, with a kind of inward, wailing note, expressive of the keenest anguish; and, ever and anon, it raised its drooping head, and turning towards the wound in its breast, touched it with its bill, and then looked up in my face, with an expression that I have no wish to forget, for it had power to touch my heart, whilst yet a boy, when a thousand dry precepts in the academical closet would have been of no avail.

There is a passage in the works of the admirable SIR WM. JONES, which is so beautifully expressive of his opinions on

this subject, and which is so accordant with my own sentiments, that I cannot refuse myself the pleasure of giving it in his own. elegant language:

"Could the figure, instincts, and qualities of birds, beasts, insects, reptiles, and fish, be ascertained, either on the plan of BUFFON, or on that of LINNEUS, without giving pain to the objects of our examination, few studies would afford us more solid instruction, or more exquisite delight: but I never could learn by what right, nor conceive with what feelings, a Naturalist can occasion the misery of an innocent bird, and leave its young, perhaps, to perish in a cold nest, because it has gay plumage, and has never been accurately delineated; or deprive even a butterfly of its natural enjoyments, because it has the misfortune to be rare or beautiful: nor shall I ever forget the couplet of FIRDAUSI, for which SADI, who cites it with applause, pours blessings on his departed spirit.

"Ah! spare yon emmet, rich in hoarded grain:

He lives with pleasure, and he dies with pain."

This may be only a confession of weakness, and it certainly is not meant as a boast of peculiar sensibility; but, whatever name may be given to my opinion, it has such an effect on my conduct, that I never would suffer the cócila, whose wild native wood notes announce the approach of spring, to be caught in my garden for the sake of comparing it with BUFFON's description; though I have often examined the domestic and engaging mayanà, which bids us good morrow at our windows, and expects, as its reward, little more than its security: even when a fine young manis or pangalin was brought me, against my wish, from the mountains, I solicited his restoration to his beloved rocks, because I found it impossible to preserve him in comfort at a distance from them.

"There are several treatises in Arabick, and very particular accounts of them in Chinese, with elegant outlines of their external appearance; but I have met with nothing valuable concerning them in Persian, except what may be gleaned from the