THE DOG. 57

Whose honest heart is stil! his master’s own,
Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone;
Unhonoured falls, unnoticed all his worth,
Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth;
While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,
And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.”

These last lines agree in feeling with the belief enter-
tained by the Indian warrior, who thinks that his favourite
dog will bear him company to the “happy hunting grounds,”
8 feeling beautifully expressed in the well-known lines—

“ Lo, the poor Indian ! whose untutored mind
Sees God in clonds, or hears him in the wind;
His soul proud science never taught to stray
Far as the solar walk, or milky way;

Yet simple nature to his hope has given,

Behind the cloud-topt hill, a humbler heaven ;
Some safer world, in depth of woods embraced,
Some happier island in the watery waste,

Where slaves once more their native land behold,
No fiends torment, no Christian thirets for gold ;
But thinks, admitted to that equal sky,

His faithful dog shall bear him company.”

The numerous anecdotes which might be related, to illas-
trate every interesting point of the dog’s character, would

fill a volume, and, though greatly tempted to record some
of them, I must refrain. There is an amusing and well-