e, from the creation of the earth, has been striving to
woo and to teach us to entertain gentler sentiments. No one ever played
with cruelty but he lost by the game, and still the sport is fashionable.
No one ever spared or relieved the meanest creature but in his feelings he
was rewarded; and yet are there comparatively few who will seek such
pleasure. Neither through our sensibilities nor our interests are we quick
to learn that which Heaven itself is constantly striving to impress.

The dog is our companion, our servant, and our friend. With more than
matrimonial faith does the honorable beast wed itself to man. In sickness
and in health, literally does it obey, serve, love, and honor. Absolutely
does it cleave only unto one, forsaking all others--for even from its own
species does it separate itself, devoting its heart to man. In the very
spirit and to the letter of the contract does it yield itself, accepting
its life's load for better, for worse--for richer, for poorer--in sickness
and in health--to love, cherish, and to obey till death. The name of the
animal may be a reproach, but the affection of the dog realizes the ideal
of conjugal fidelity. Nevertheless, with all its estimable qualities, it
is despised, and we know not how to prize, or in what way to treat it. It
is the inmate of our homes, and the associate of our leisure: and yet its
requirements are not recognised, nor its necessities appreciated. Its
docility and intelligence are employed to undermine its health; and its
willingness to learn and to obey is converted into a reason for destroying
its constitution. What it can do we are content to assume it was intended
to perform; and that which it will eat we are satisfied to assert was
destined to be its food.

Bones, stones, and bricks, are not beneficial to dogs. The animals may be
tutored to carry the two last, and impelled by hunger they will eat the
first. Hard substances and heavy weights, however, when firmly grasped, of
course wear the teeth; and the organs of mastication are even more
valuable to the meanest cur than to the wealthiest dame. If the mouth of
the human being be toothless, the cook can be told to provide for the
occasion, or the dentist will in a great measure supply the loss. But the
toothless dog must eat its customary food; and it must do this, although
the last stump or remaining fang be excoriating the lips, and ulcerating
the gums. The ability to crush, and the power to digest