After reviewing and criticising some of the faults and follies of human society, the poem concludes,

"By this, the sun was out o' sight,

And darker gloaming brought the night:
The bum-clock hummed wi' lazy drone;
The kye stood rowtin' i' the loan;
When up they gat, and shook their lugs,
Rejoiced they were na men, but dogs;
And each took aff his several way,

Resolved to meet some ither day."

6

1786.

"Burns," says A. Cunningham, "had a favourite collie at Ellisland, with this legend on its collar: Robert Burns, Poet.' His last dog, a fine burly fellow, which survived him sometime, was named THURLOW, which I suppose the poet had bestowed on him in compliment to the rough, manly character of the Chancellor. You remember Thurlow's famous reply to

1 Shaggy.

6 Dug.

2 Jolly.
3 Hips.
4 Fond.
7 Sporting.
8 Hillock.

5 Intimate. 9 Beetle.

the Duke of Grafton, in which he challenged comparison with the noble Duke as A MAN. This could not fail to take a strong hold of the feelings of Burns."-R. Carruthers' MS.

Burns was very fond of animals, and he showed it in 'The Farmer's Address to his Mare,' his 'Lines on a Wounded Hare,' 'The Winter's Night,' and other pieces. He also, at a lady's importunity, wrote an epitaph on a lapdog, but it has slight merit.

Blacklock,

mentioned above, composed a better inscription of the kind, and also an ode.

Undisguis'd, each reigning passion,
When thou mov'st or look'st we see:
Were the same with us the fashion,
Happy mortals would we be!

May her favour still pursue thee,
Who propos'd thee for my theme;
Till superior charms subdue thee,
And inspire a nobler flame.

In each other bless'd and blessing,
Years of pleasure let them live;
Each all active worth possessing,
Earth admires or heav'n can give."

Roscommon

was also happy on another of the fondlings of the fair.

ON THE DEATH OF A LADY'S DOG.

"Thou, happy creature, art secure
From all the torments we endure;
Despair, ambition, jealousy,
Lost friends, nor love, disquiet thee;
A sullen prudence drew thee hence
From noise, fraud, and impertinence.
Though Life essay'd the surest wile,
Gilding itself with Laura's smile;

How didst thou scorn Life's meaner charms,

Thou who could'st break from Laura's arms!

Poor Cynic! still methinks I hear

Thy awful murmurs in my ear;
As when on Laura's lap you lay,
Chiding the worthless crowd away.
How fondly human passions turn! .
What we then envied, now we mourn!"

a French writer on the canine race, has given the next pretty

ÉPÎTRE À LIRON ET LIRETTE.

Hamilton,

born in 1704, and who fought for the Pretender, wrote the following:

ON A DOG.

"Calm though not mean, courageous without rage,

Serious not dull, and without thinking sage;

Pleas'd at the lot that Nature has assign'd,

Snarl as I list, and freely bark my mind;