fort his surprizing animal, immediately offered a considerable reward for the apprehension of the culprit: the monster had, however, absconded, and thereby evaded that chastisement which British humanity, blended with justice, would, no doubt, have inflicted on the savage and cruel offender. Communicated by W. Upton, Esq.

The dying Horse.

MASTER, farewell! I've serv'd you long and true; Yes, noble master! for I've found thee so: Twice fourteen years my back has carried you, And yet not once did thy displeasure know.

Oh, master dear! when both were green in years, How oft I've borne thee to thy distant love, You best can tell!—but why thine eyes in tears? I do not wish your tender heart to move.

Nay, do not look so sad, nor stroke my head; We now must part !—must bid a long adieu! Yet, ere I'm number'd with the silent dead,

Thy poor old servant dies with blessing you.

And oh, fond master! hear my last request,
Be still the same, be still the horse's friend!
So may'st the turf lie lightly on thy breast,
When you and life (which heav'n prolong) doth
end.

Do you learn others, like thyself, to feel,
To know our value, and to use us fair;
For could our tongues the pains oft felt reveal,
Sure those who lash us would such torture spare.

Willing, nay eager, is our wish to please-
When oft we're scourg'd, and ev'ry pore runs
blood!

By day and night, alas! bereft of ease,

Whipp'd, spurr'd, and goaded in the very stud. Master! kind master, do you prove a friend-The horse's friend-for much thy care they need;

Depict their suff'rings, and their cause defend, And save, oh save them, when condemn'd to bleed!

So may'st thou, best of masters! happy be,

Nor grief nor trouble e'er thy wishes cross; But cherub babes their blessings lisp for thee, Is the last prayer of thy dying horse.

William Upton, Esq.

Remarkable Instance of Preservation by a sure-footed Horse.

THE Construction of the bridge at Chepstow is extremely curious; the planks that form the floor rise with the tide, which, at certain times, is said to attain to the height of 70 feet. About twenty-four years since, it was thought necessary to remove the floor of this bridge which was accordingly done, and only one or two of the planks remained for the convenience of the foot passengers. This was very well lighted, and a man placed at the end, to warn those that approached of their danger. But it so happened, that one dreadful stormy night the lamps blew out, and the monitor, supposing that no one would in such a hurricane attempt to pass, retired to shelter.

After midnight a traveller knocked at the door of an inn at Chepstow.