;
But why should I for others groan,
When none will sigh for me?
Perchance my dog will whine in vain,
Till fed by stranger hands;
But long ere I come back again,
He'd tear me where he stands."

The affection of the dog for his master does not end with his life; and
innumerable are the anecdotes on record of dogs, which have continued
to pine after their master's death, or died immediately after. We shall
select but one or two well-authenticated instances, for they are all so
much alike, that it is unnecessary to produce many. It is said, in the
Life of Mary, Queen of Scots, lately published at Glasgow, that, after
her head was cut off, her little favorite lapdog, which had
affectionately followed her, and unobserved had nestled among her
clothes, now continued to caress her, and would not leave the body till
forced away, and then died two days afterwards.

Mr. Renton, of Lammerton, had a herdsman, who, pursuing a sheep that
had run down the steep bank of Blackadder Water, fell into the river
and was drowned. His dog, a common shepherd's dog, returned home next
morning, and led his wife to the spot, holding her by the apron. The
body was found. The dog followed it even to the grave, and died in a
few days.

A mastiff dog belonging to the Honorable Peter Bold, England, attended
his master in his chamber during the tedious sickness consequent on a
pulmonary consumption. After the gentleman expired, and his corpse had
been removed, the dog repeatedly entered the apartment, making a
mournful, whining noise; he continued his researches for several days
through all the rooms of the house, but in vain. He then retired to his
kennel, which he could not be induced to leave; refusing all manner of
sustenance, he soon died. Of this fact, and his previous affection, the
surgeon who attended his master was an eye-witness.

The regret of the dog for its master's death is not confined to
inactive sorrow; if his death has been caused by violence, it discovers
a singular and persevering hatred of the murderers, which in some cases
has led to their detection. The following instance is related in a
letter, written in 1764, by a gentleman at Dijon, in France, to his
friend in London: "Since my arrival here, a man has been broken on the
wheel, with no other proof to condemn him than that of a water-spaniel.
The circumstances attending it being so very singular and striking, I
beg leave to communicate them