vidly to the writer by the late Scottish knight, after whose
battle in South Italy the author of "Marmion" named his pet staghound
Maida, or, as Scott pronounced it, "Myda." It was as the author of "The
Twa Dogs" that young Ferguson and Scott regarded Burns on his entrance
into the room with such wistful attention. The story is told in
Lockhart, and we will not quote it further; but, leaving dogs of our own
days and lands to Mr Jesse, who has given an interesting volume on them,
we will close with a few paragraphs on the dog of the East--a very
differently treated animal to that generally prized and esteemed
"friend" of man in these lands of the West.

The Holy Scriptures show us that dogs were generally despised. We select
three, out of many instances. "Is thy servant a _dog_ that he should do
this thing?" was the question with which Hazael, ignorant of the
deceitfulness of his own heart, indignantly replied to Elisha, when the
prophet told him of the evil that he would yet do unto the children of
Israel (2 Kings viii. 13). He, "who spake as never man spake," knowing
the faith of the Syrophoenician woman, and giving her an opportunity
of manifesting it "for our example," said, in the Syriac fashion of
thought, "It is not meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it to
_the dogs_" (Mark vii. 27). And the apostle John, in that wondrous close
of the prophetical writings, says, "For without," _i.e._, outside of the
New Jerusalem, "are _dogs_" (Rev. xxii. 5). In the East up to the
present day, with but few exceptions, dogs are treated with great
dislike. We might quote passages in proof from almost every Eastern
traveller, and may venture to extract one from the graphic page of the
Rev. W. Graham, who lived five years in Syria, and who has given some
noble word-pictures of men, and streets, and scenes in Damascus and
other Turkish towns. Writing of Damascus,[53] he remarks, "The dogs are
considered unclean, and are never domesticated in the East. They are
thin, lean, fox-like animals, and always at the starving point. They
live, breed, and die in the streets. They are useful as scavengers. They
are neither fondled nor persecuted, but simply tolerated; and no dog has
an owner, or ever follows and accompanies a man as the sheep do. I once
went out in the evening at Beyrout, with my teacher to enjoy the fresh
air and talk Arabic. My little English dog, the gift of a friend,
followed us. We passed through a garden, where a